Friday, May 14, 2021

Read this Issue. Your or Your Colleague’s Life May Depend on It.

From the 5/14/2021 newsletter


Director’s Corner


Read this Issue. Your or Your Colleague’s Life May Depend on It. 


Adina Kalet, MD MPH


This week, we focus on suicide and its prevention. Dr. Kalet urges you to read what is likely our most compelling issue ever of the Transformational Times, curated by Dr. Jeffery Fritz and the Kern Student Leadership group. You will learn a few things, be moved, and be better prepared to save a life …



The MCW-Milwaukee medical school graduating class of 2021 has suffered the loss of two of its cohort to suicide. This has been devastating for the families and close friends of these individuals. Their grief, profound and deeply personal it must be, and has been, treated with tenderness and respect for desired privacy. 

As new physicians, this class joins a profession where suicide is all too common. An estimated 300 US physicians take their own lives each year and the rates may be rising. It is likely that each of us have been, or will be, touched by suicide amongst our colleagues and friends. 

For many people who are contemplating suicide, prevention is possible. As colleagues, it requires each of us to be proactive, skillful, and brave in facing our own acculturated barriers to reaching out to others in times of despair. On a personal level, we must all learn to identify and skillfully intervene with friends and colleagues at risk, and vow to accompany those family members and friends who are left to deal with the grief and guilt that suicide leaves in its wake. It is good news that more than 90% of people who survive an attempted suicide never go on to die by suicide. Intervention and treatment save lives.

We also know that, in some cases, there is little that we can do. Some people are committed to ending their lives without intervention and offer no detectable warning or cry for help. With these deaths, we must care for the survivors, enact the self-compassion to digest and deal with our own thoughts and feelings, and develop meaningful ways to acknowledge the loss.  


What we know about suicide

Suicide is among the most common causes of death in those under 55 years of age. The rate of suicide has increased from 17 to 22 per 100,000 over the past twenty years, rising particularly among white and Native American men. Other Americans with higher-than-average rates of suicide are military veterans, people who live in rural areas, and workers in mining and construction. Lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgendered young people have higher rates of suicidal ideation and behavior compared to their straight peers. There is a rising concern for adolescents who have been socially isolated during COVID-19. Those with mental health diagnoses, such as major depression and bipolar disorder, and those who struggle with alcohol or other substance abuse disorders are at increased risk. Because of their access to lethal weapons, people who live in homes with firearms are at higher risk. About 60% of firearms deaths each year in the US are suicides.

Systemic approaches to preventing suicide include cultural and institutional efforts that eliminate professional burnout and enhance wellbeing. This requires, as Dr. Cipriano points out in this issue, viewing suicide through a public health lens. Meaningful prevention of suicide on a population basis will require comprehensive approaches that strengthen financial safety nets and coping skills, promote connectedness, and enhance access to excellent mental health care. 


What to do when the person in front of you is suffering

Preventing suicide while in the presence of an individual who concerns you requires your active intervention. Learn to ask about suicidality. Be willing to remain present and keep the individual safe. Help the person stay connected to others and follow up. In this issue, our students describe their efforts to disseminate these basic principles. 


The experience of relatives and friends 

I find hearing that someone has killed themselves is always disorienting and unfathomable. While not ubiquitous, it is common for families to close ranks and feel both stigmatized and ashamed for a time. Traditionally, many cultures and religions have created a stigma around suicide although, as a result of work to raise awareness around these issues, most groups have faced down their stigmatizing actions. As one of this week’s authors, Toni Gray, points out, things have changed for the better through research, public awareness campaigns, and the compassion of mental health caregiving.  The key is to try, follow the lead of those who are grieving, and remember that they will be dealing with the loss for their lifetimes. 


Suicide in medical settings gets uncomfortably close

Suicide has touched my personal social circle a few times over the last years, including a teenager and more than one adult with loving families and seemingly rich lives. 

When I was just starting out in medical practice, it was a commonly held (and incorrect) belief that asking someone, especially someone who was desperately fragile emotionally, if they were considering killing themselves might “plant the idea in their head.” This approach likely cost lives. Now we know better. Many people who attempt suicide have seen a physician, usually not a mental health expert, in the weeks prior to the attempt. Physicians and healthcare workers in every specialty must understand their obligation to recognize and intervene.

In medical settings, I have noticed that suicides tend to happen in waves. A few years ago, a medical student, well known and loved by his peers and teachers and who had no known personal or academic troubles, jumped from the roof of a building in New York City. Soon thereafter, two other young physicians in our community died by suicide. Four senior physicians at a hospital where I have worked took their own lives over the course of a year; this was attributed to workloads of over 100 hours a week

MCW has been similarly touched. These are profound shocks for any educational institution and, despite having policies, protocols, confidential counselling, and employee assistance offices, deaths still occur. Each suicide is devastating. With each occurrence, we look for answers. We redouble our commitment to reach out if we are concerned about colleagues, friends or patients. We educate ourselves. We plan to simply ask, “Are you thinking about killing yourself?” and then commit to sitting and listening.  Each loss leaves the community diminished.


We hear the voices of people who have struggled

Like our anonymous student essayist, survivors of profound depression and grief often become so focused on their own suffocating isolation that they can see no other option. Shakespeare reminds us that, "Everyone can master a grief but he that has it." It falls to those of us nearby to accompany the person suffering, offering safety, connection, and help. As the student tells us, “As I am connecting with this other human, their logic and compassion towards me overpower the force of self-destruction.” We might be the one to save a life.

We are deeply grateful to those who contributed pieces in this issue. Students, staff, and faculty members who have struggled personally or vicariously through close relatives and friends, share their stories. We hear from Brett Linzer, a physician who, having experienced the loss of a number of colleagues and friends to suicide, as he faces his own burnout with the help of his loved ones. Although reluctant at first, he seeks the coaching that strengthens him with skills and support, enhances the joy he experiences in his work, and compels him to use his experience to work toward systems change for all of us. We get to know Kerri Corcoran, Student Behavioral Health and Resource Navigator in the MCW office of Student Services, who is committed to providing direct support for our students. MCW-Central Wisconsin students write about their work at self-organizing, with great creativity, to do suicide prevention work. 


This is a difficult, ongoing, and devastating problem that disproportionately touches us as physicians. We desperately want to do this right and welcome your experiences and efforts. 

I urge you to read this issue. You never know when it will be your turn to save someone’s life. 


Adina Kalet, MD MPH is the Director of the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education and holder of the Stephen and Shelagh Roell Endowed Chair at the Medical College of Wisconsin.


Many Hands, Many Voices: Suicide Prevention Work at MCW

 From the 5/14/2021 newsletter


Perspective/Opinion

 

 Many Hands, Many Voices: Suicide Prevention Work at MCW

 

 David J. Cipriano, Ph.D. - Director of Student and Resident Behavioral Health and Co-Chair, MCW Suicide Prevention Council

 

 Dr. Cipriano, Co-chair of MCW’s Suicide Prevention Council, describes how the council is approaching this critical topic through the development of peer support, beginning at MCW-CW …

 


 Many hands, many voices – a common call for community collaboration – describes the progress of our Suicide Prevention Council (SPC).  I reported a few months ago on our identification of two risk factors for suicide that we chose to focus on this year:  isolation and stigma.  And, I promised to report back on our progress. 

Last time, I spoke about the culture change needed to reduce these risk factors.  We began to plan for a public health model to promote such culture change.  There are three categories of prevention: Primary prevention focuses on various determinants in the whole population. Secondary prevention comprises early detection and intervention. Tertiary prevention targets for advanced recovery and reduction of relapse risk. Our model utilizes trained peer supporters as the main change agents in the secondary prevention component. 

 We looked to Drs. Alicia Pilarski and Timothy Klatt’s Supporting Our Staff (SOS) program to address “second victim” - or vicarious trauma - amongst clinicians, and our program is closely modelled on theirs. The primary prevention component seeks to raise awareness, educate, and begin the conversation through events, media, and other means.  These are the seeds of the culture change needed beginning with stigma which keeps mental health in the shadows and isolation, perpetuated by shame and pride which keep us from reaching out to peers and colleagues.  Tertiary prevention involves removing barriers to access to care for those who need it.  We have made good progress on this over the past few years, but there is more we can do.

 

A student-led suicide prevention initiative at MCW-CW

So, whose hands and whose voices?  Dr. Jon Lehrmann, Chair of Psychiatry and Behavioral Medicine and co-founder of our Suicide Prevention Council, kept directing us back to the Pilarski/Klatt SOS program.  He saw the benefits of the public health approach and of the peer support component. MCW-Central Wisconsin medical student, Margaret (Meg) Lieb, pointed out the difference between peer support programs that encourage the active outreach of peer supporters, versus passive models where it is the responsibility of those in distress to reach out.  Then, our terrific community member of SPC, Dr. Barbara Moser, jumped in with her wealth of knowledge of training tools and experiences needed to prepare these peer supporters.  

So, what’s coming next?  Meg Lieb has assembled a group of fellow students with a passion for the mental health and wellbeing at MCW-CW.  They will launch a pilot program next month. You will be hearing from several of them in this issue of Transformational Times.  Meg and her team have been putting together the training materials, recruiting peer supporters and have even secured funding through Dr. Lisa Dodson, Dean of MCW-Central Wisconsin from a grant she received.  All this, while Meg is preparing for the Step 1 exam! 

I’ll stop here and let these amazing students tell their story.  I will make another promise here – while they are running their pilot, we on the SPC will continue to make plans for extending this program to our MCW-Milwaukee and MCW-Green Bay, as well.

 

 

David J. Cipriano, Ph.D. is an Associate Professor in the Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Health at MCW and Director of Student and Resident Behavioral Health. He is a member of the Community Engagement Pillar of the Robert D. and Patricia E. Kern Institute for the Transformation of Medical Education.


What is it like to be suicidal?

 From the 5/14/2021 newsletter


Perspective/Opinion

 

 

What is it like to be suicidal?  

 

 

By an anonymous medical student

 

 

A medical student shares their personal journey with suicidal thoughts …

 


 

To me, being suicidal is a physical place in my mind. I’ve boarded the wrong train, or maybe it’s the right train going in the wrong direction. It’s a vast transit system: all the stops are underground so I can’t see where the train is going, and the doors are locked so I can’t get off. In addition, my vision is too blurry to read the map posted on the door.  

 

As I ride to The Wrong Place, I only know that’s the destination if I pay close attention to myself. There are telltale signs: my hobbies become boring or arduous, my favorite foods taste like saliva, and I avoid eye contact with the mirror. 

 

As another stop goes by, my arms and ankles become heavy—too heavy to lift. Taking a shower sounds like a luxury that I simply do not deserve. I do not have the energy to hurt myself at this point... until the train reaches its next stop. 

 

This next stop is at the most dangerous neighborhood I can imagine. Here, I have the will to get out of bed, say my goodbyes, and seek out my demise. At this point, one of two things will happen. I either tell a friend my plans (you know, so they aren’t surprised; it’s common courtesy really), or I call my mom. Every single time so far, someone, somehow, has listened to my spiel about why I should leave this world. The person I am speaking to invariably disagrees with me, and I can feel the train slowing down. Slowly, I can sense how absurd the idea sounds as I hear my own voice speak this strange manifesto. 

As I am connecting with this other human, their logic and compassion towards me overpower the force of self-destruction. The train finally stops, the doors unlock, and my vision clears. I choose to walk onto the platform and take the stairs back up to ground level, where the rest of my life is waiting. I am existentially exhausted, having both won and lost an argument that put my life at stake. 

 

Personally, I find the feelings of suicidality are always temporary. They fade away, and I am left to live with myself, knowing that some part of me tried to delete all parts of me. But I am not afraid for the next time I head to The Wrong Place. At this point, I know all the stops and the symptoms that accompany them. I can usually get off the train before I end up at the I-don’t-deserve-to-shower part of the journey. I can’t exactly put that on my resume but, hey, I can still be proud of myself.  

 

It's a skill in self-awareness to know when you’re in trouble and when to get help. When I am faced with an internal struggle, seeking out a third party gives me a perspective I can’t generate on my own. There are wonderfully compassionate people—counselors, therapists—who have dedicated their careers to helping people get un-stuck when they feel stuck. They have given me tools that I can always carry with me; their expertise has been distilled to a few tips and tricks that work for me to navigate stressful situations and life changes. I encourage you to seek inside yourself the will to live, the love of those around you, and most daringly, the point at which to be vulnerable and seek help; for me, it was the most difficult and most rewarding thing I have ever learned. 

 

 

 

Author’s note: After much deliberation, and due to the current climate of resident medical education, this piece will be published anonymously. Special thanks to my campus colleagues for being such an open and supportive community. 


Red Flags

 Perspective/Opinion



From the 5/14/2021 newsletter


Perspective/Opinion


Red Flags


Margaret (Meg) Lieb, MS



Ms. Lieb is the current medical student representative for MCW’s Suicide Prevention Council and a co-founder of the council’s inaugural program, Seeking Peer Outreach (SPO). In this issue, she reflects on how her past gives life to her vision for future of SPO …


I remember trembling in a bustling coffee shop as I numbed the buzz around me to delicately lay each word in place. I was clenching every muscle in my body to contain the explosions in my chest vibrating my fingertips. I was eighteen, and I was writing my first personal statement. As with every personal statement since I was firmly instructed to “address [my] red flags.” My caveat: it is impossible to explain my red flags without also disclosing my most painful, darkest, personal secrets.

How do you address a big, red, domestic violence charge without sharing that it was the first time I tried to fight back after a year of abuse? How do you justify enduring an entire year of abuse without conveying I intervened in his suicide the year prior and was terrified for his life? How do you fend off assumptions about my judgment without explaining it was my first love, and I simply did not know better? How do you describe the ways it was formative without reliving every traumatic memory and its sequelae?

After nearly ten years of writing and re-writing my sharpest pain and deepest shame for various admissions committees, I have yet to craft a different answer.

However, time gifted me the hindsight to reflect on ways I grew into my red flags, in ways, driving my purpose. For instance, I was nominated to sit as the student representative for MCW’s Suicide Prevention Council (SPC) last year. One of my mentors challenged me to imagine the intricacies of a culture in medical education where we would not be forced to question, “When is it safe to be me?” primarily when applied to well-being and mental suffering.

As I reflected on this concept and connected it to my own experience, I realized it never was safe for me. However, with each rendition disclosing my history, I grew from tolerating my forced vulnerability to comfort to strength in my vulnerability. This concept of ‘strength in vulnerability’ has been integral as I helped develop SPC’s first initiative, Seeking Peer Outreach (SPO). How do you breathe strength into brilliant, high-functioning individuals, who are also struggling to dress in the morning, to be vulnerable enough to seek help?


Make help active and accessible 

Our approach to this: make it easy and make it normal. In applying this to SPO, I’ve called it “active accessibility.” Active because we are placing the responsibility of getting support away from a person potentially suffering and, instead, giving it to everyone else in the community by setting the expectation of actively and regularly reaching out. Accessible because we considered existing barriers to requesting or receiving help and have streamlined circumventive processes.

We are augmenting active support via a subset of individuals identified by others in the community as being particularly approachable and empathetic. This group goes through additional training, is equipped with various resources to share, is tasked with checking in with all individuals regularly, and displays a specific version of the SPO logo as a silent signal. The signal conveys the pledge to share their vulnerability, support, resources, and confidentiality for anyone who may need it at any time. 

Additionally, we are enhancing accessibility through an innovative anonymous reporting platform for anyone burdened with barriers to revealing their identity. Each SPO logo will be an embedded with a QR code directly linked to an encrypted submission page. Any submission will go to the SPO peer support team, who will be able to respond accordingly. Further, every person will be provided a pin displaying the QR code and encouraged to keep it on their MCW badge. Therefore, every member at MCW will carry an anonymous means of support with them at all times.


We are not alone

When I joined the SPC, I knew there were very few people in my life who understood what I had been through; thus, I was sure no one at my institution could personally relate to my lived experience: a lonely burden to acknowledge. 

A year later, I am astounded and inspired by how wrong I was. As we selected leaders for the SPO pilot program at MCW’s satellite campus in Central Wisconsin, I was adamant that our leadership be committed to being the best example of the program’s mission. In response, a few weeks ago, I sat with next year’s selected SPO leaders, composed of 25% of the Central Wisconsin M1 class, faculty, and staff. Each person shared their personal dedication for SPO by disclosing their own big, red, scary secrets. Many secrets that were strikingly similar to my own. It was a powerful meeting that served as a beacon of hope, a seed for compassionate collaboration, and the ribbon-cutting for strength in vulnerability. 

Most notably, it would not have been possible without the influential faculty members who take extra steps to help their colleagues and students feel safe in their vulnerability. Further, I would not have been able to co-lead the formation of SPO without the same faculty who empowered my voice and simply left the door open. 


I couldn’t be more grateful for them or the skills they granted me to pass the torch for those to come.


Margaret (Meg) Lieb, MS is a second-year medical student at MCW-Central Wisconsin. She serves as the medical student representative to MCW’s Suicide Prevention Council.