MJA20213 5 720 Sept20cover

Issues

Volume 213 Issue 5

7 September 2020

Perspectives

Indigenous health 17 August 2020 Free

The time for inclusive care for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people is now

Understanding the multiple identity groups of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people can assist in meeting their health care needs Where does a young, LGBTQ+ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, and other non‐heteronormative or non‐binary sexual and gender identities, including asexual) Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander person go for health care in Australia? Do they attend an Aboriginal community controlled health organisation in search of culturally sensitive care? Or do they visit an LGBTQ+‐friendly health service to access staff trained in sexual and gender diversity? Is there a space for them, and other LGBTQ+ Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander young people, in the Australian health care landscape? These questions are being posed by Indigenous LGBTQ+ health advocates.1 Recent national policy documents outline the need for comprehensive health care for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people.2,3 Despite this identification in policy, limited information is available to health practitioners on working with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people (Box 1). Practitioners are limited by the absence of an integrated framework as well as a dearth of research into these young peoples’ health needs and service preferences. Intersectionality theory highlights that individuals can face multiple structural inequalities within each of the social groups that they occupy, which also affect their access to health, social and economic resources.4 We suggest intersectionality theory as a guiding principle for research and practice with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people. An intersectional approach means recognising that patients belong to multiple identity groups, such as sexual orientation and cultural groups, which are socially constructed and which affect their social positioning and subsequent treatment, such as discrimination, within health care systems.4 The health and wellbeing of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people occupy three intersecting identities, which, when considered separately, are each linked to risks for poor health. The risks for poor physical health and social emotional wellbeing among Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples are well documented.5 Within Australia, LGBTQ+ individuals experience heightened suicidality, serious assault, homelessness and psychological distress6,7 compared with their heterosexual, cisgender peers. These increased health risks do not indicate inherent vulnerability but rather are outcomes of discrimination, marginalisation, racism, transphobia and homophobia.15 Young people not only experience health risks associated with their development phase — for example, heightened risk of psychopathology, physical injury and emotional dysregulation9,10 — but are also often unaware of health services available to them or have fears around confidentiality.11 LGBTQ+ young people, in particular, report feeling isolated from health services.6 Health practitioners may therefore see Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people in a variety of settings, including in suicidal crisis, seeking care after a serious assault or injury, or counselling for prolonged psychological distress. Although health care workers may be aware of the health risks associated with being Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander, LGBTQ+ or young, the health outcomes for someone with these intersecting identities remain largely unknown. Emerging literature has begun to identify the health concerns of people who are both Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander and LGBTQ+, although this work is thus far limited to adults.12,13,14 Consistent with research into these groups separately, findings suggest that suicidality, substance misuse and homelessness are primary health concerns for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people. However, the evidence in adults also points to a set of health‐related concerns which are unique to being Aboriginal and Torres Islander and LGBTQ+. For example, some individuals move off Country in search of more accepting communities or to access gender‐affirming care.13,14 However, moving off Country can lead to feelings of dislocation due to loss of connection to Country, which can then precipitate illness. Arguably, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people find it harder to move off Country because of reduced financial and personal resources. Support and service in remote areas are also scarce.14 An inability to express gender or sexual identity is another health‐related concern for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people. Some people report feeling pressure to suppress their sexual or gender identity when they are in Indigenous communities.12 Exclusion of gender diverse individuals from men's or women's business can negatively affect social and emotional wellbeing.13 Contemporary culture‐based wellbeing programs often continue this practice of providing support along binary gender lines. Some of the authors’ own experiences reiterate this unintentional bias; Indigenous health care providers use terms such as “sis”, “brother” or “sistergirl” when answering the phone, which can mean that people are misgendered. Although we acknowledge that these terms carry meaning to the Indigenous community, they can be problematical for trans and non‐gender‐conforming young people. There is therefore scope to develop a culturally sensitive way to bypass the use of these gendered terms until a young person's pronouns have been established. Intersectionality theory as a guiding framework International models8,15 provide a useful footing on which to consider intersectionality in the Australian health context. These models demonstrate how societal oppressions of racism and heterosexism within health care systems influence internal (eg, an individuals’ self‐concept) and external (eg, lack of LGBTQ+‐specific services, stigma toward multiple minority groups) risk factors. Importantly, the impact of these risk factors resulting from societal oppressions is not simply a multiplicative effect. Rather, individuals living within multiple minority groups face health disadvantage because of their unique social positioning. Common across these models is an emphasis on the social context of health outcomes because membership in multiple minority status groups can be associated with increased stresses and barriers impeding an individual's coping efforts. Further, when practitioners do not consider how a patient's gender, social class, ethnicity and sexual orientation influences their care needs, patients who experience multiple oppressions can become invisible by being left out of health research or ignored in policy and health promotion efforts, leading to delays in seeking care. Such invisibility in health care is a reported concern among Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people.12 Health care at the intersection: implications for health research and practice Adopting an intersectional approach to health care requires practitioners to consider the relationship between multiple structural inequalities faced by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people, and downstream consequences for this group's wellbeing. Doing so will likely require additional training and professional development. As Box 1 outlines, although not health providers per se, services and supports led by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people have emerged in response to the multiple barriers presented by existing health services. These services provide a space for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people to discuss intersecting identities. For example, the Gar'ban'djee'lum Network offers a space in which to celebrate sexual and cultural identity, and Black Rainbow partners with an online newspaper to publish content by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ authors, providing a platform for voices from people living at this intersection. Service providers can increase their awareness of the contemporary issues faced by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people by accessing online information from these organisations. Moreover, concrete steps which practitioners can follow can be guided by an awareness of intersecting categories, diversity of knowledges, power and multilevel analysis, reflexivity, time and space, and equity and social justice.8 Actions that practitioners can take which are consistent with these domains are outlined in Box 2. The increased focus on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people, led by and advocated for by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ community members and researchers, is a welcome step towards ensuring safe and effective health care for all Australians. However, there has been little guidance for practitioners on how best to work with this patient group. Health services wanting to support Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people can: include an LGBTQ+ status question on intake forms; services can also use an open‐ended question format for young people to describe their gender, rather than tick‐boxes of “male”, “female” or “other”; provide visual displays of support in waiting rooms, such as displaying a rainbow pride flag and other pride flags alongside Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander flags; and establish mechanisms for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people to provide service feedback (eg, asking patients from this group how the service can best meet their needs). Further, although there are increasing calls to apply an intersectional approach in health care — none more powerful than those of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people themselves — research has yet to systematically evaluate treatment outcomes for patients when such an approach is applied. Future research should measure treatment outcomes in services where staff apply an intersectional lens. The omission of young people from previous research into the health and wellbeing of Aboriginal Torres Strait Islander and LGBTIQ+ people also remains a pressing concern. Further research with young people is needed if practitioners and services working with young people are to effectively and appropriately work within an intersectional framework. Box 1 – Current services available for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people* Organisation name Description Website Black Rainbow Advocacy for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ suicide prevention Support for homelessness, domestic violence, and people involved in the justice system http://www.blackrainbow.org.au/ Tekwabi Giz Provides support to the National LGBTI Health Alliance for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people, specialised knowledge, advocacy https://lgbtihealth.org.au/tekwabigiz/ IndigiLez Women's Leadership and Support Group Special focus on Indigenous lesbians and same sex‐attracted women Advocacy for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people, cultural retreats, safe sex workshops, family days, workshops, social activities, self‐defence workshops https://www.facebook.com/IndigiLez/ Sisters and Brothers NT Social change, advocacy, support, consultation, resource creation, and research, and awareness for sistergirls, brotherboys, and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ people https://www.facebook.com/SistersBrothersNTCelebratingDiversity/ First Nations Rainbow Acceptance, celebration, raising community awareness, improving wellbeing, and reducing stigma and discrimination https://www.firstnationsrainbow.org.au/ Yarns Heal Suicide prevention among Indigenous peoples, including sistergirls, brotherboys and LGBTQ+ individuals https://www.yarnsheal.com.au/ Gar'ban'djee'lum Network Support, advocacy, information on healthy lifestyles, social events, fundraising, and celebration of sexual and cultural identity https://www.afao.org.au/article/us-mob-garbandjeelum-network/ Blaq Aboriginal Corporation Celebration, representation and increased visibility of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ community members https://www.blaq.org.au/about-about * This list of organisations in not exhaustive but provides a starting point for practitioners wanting to learn more about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ health. Information in the table is taken from the organisations’ websites. None of the organisations listed are young people‐specific, although some make note of the importance of young people. Box 2 – Next steps in health care provision for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people Domain8 Next steps for research and practice Intersecting categories: health professionals should consider that patients likely occupy multiple social positions, not just the identity which appears most dominant Develop LGBTQ+ health information guides that are culturally sensitive to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander patients and easily accessible to young people Display the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander flags alongside the pride flags at health services Including LGBTQ+ status options on patient intake forms Because experiences of discrimination based on sexual and gender diversity among Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people can occur within the context of pre‐existing trauma,12 consider applying trauma‐informed care models when working with this patient group Specific health promotion efforts and programs targeted at Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people Primary research into the social emotional wellbeing of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people Primary research into experiences and preferences of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people in the health system Diversity of knowledges: consider Indigenous and queer ways of knowing and being Seek Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young peoples’ perspectives on their health issues Assess whether Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people have a culturally specific understanding of their health and wellbeing, which may differ from dominant, medicalised explanations Primary research into how Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people conceptualise health and wellbeing Power and multilevel analysis: health professionals hold greater power than Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people due to their positions in society; health issues for this patient group occur across multiple levels of society Reducing power differentials in the healing relationship by using less medicalised language with patients and asking them how to best cater to their specific needs Ensuring young people understand limits of confidentiality so that they can trust practitioners with disclosing their LGBTQ+ status Practitioners attend professional development opportunities that promote appropriate ways of working with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people (such training is currently provided by some organisations listed in Box 1). Primary research into the impact of various societal oppressions on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young peoples’ wellbeing Primary research into enablers of effective service delivery in this patient group Reflexivity: consistent reflection on practice decisions and how they relate to patients’ social positioning Practitioners regularly reflect on assumptions they may hold about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people and the root cause of their health problems Discussions with LGBTQ+, Indigenous and mainstream health care providers around attitudes toward Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people Time and space: patient needs and preferences are not static, and vary with social positioning Practitioners remain up to date on social trends which may affect this patient group (eg, recent legalisation of same sex marriage, release of the Uluru Statement from the Heart) Practitioners ask individual patients about their experience of living at this intersection, and not assume a universal experience Primary research into health care needs and preferences across the life course in this patient group Equity and social justice: advocating for increased inclusion of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people Health professionals can use their positions of social power to advocate for the needs of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ young people within their collegiate relations, workplaces and the broader health sector

Bep Uink · Shakara Liddelow‐Hunt · Kate Daglas · Dharma Ducasse

Ethics 24 August 2020 Free

Navigating the complexities of voluntary assisted dying in palliative care

Voluntary assisted dying is not part of palliative care The Voluntary Assisted Dying Act 2017 (Vic)1 came into effect in Victoria on 19 June 2019. We present the case of an inpatient death under the voluntary assisted dying Act in our health service and describe a short case history followed by a discussion examining two relevant topics related to voluntary assisted dying and palliative care: conscientious objection and the complexity of palliative care involvement. Case report The patient was diagnosed with metastatic (axillary nodes) breast cancer in 2016 at the age of 53 years and declined completion staging and all conventional treatment options. She was referred to community palliative care services in 2019 with clinically progressive locoregional disease, manifesting as fungating malignant disease of the chest wall and axilla. She experienced symptoms of pain, nausea, anorexia, and weight loss. Pharmacological treatment options for her symptoms were refused due to her sensitivities to many medications. The patient lived alone but had support from friends and siblings. She had a history of chronic fatigue syndrome and mood disorder. She did not subscribe to a religion, but believed in the soul and an afterlife. She had been caring for her mother, who died from advanced breast cancer. Her mother's suffering at the end of her life was a significant reason for the patient's decision to pursue voluntary assisted dying. She commenced the voluntary assisted dying process in July 2019. Her initial intention was to self‐administer the voluntary assisted dying substances at her home on her birthday (early December). However, she was admitted to the palliative care unit (PCU) in late November for symptom management. During her admission, it became clear to the patient and her carer (who was also her voluntary assisted dying support person) that her deterioration would preclude her from returning home. She made a request to self‐administer the voluntary assisted dying substances in the PCU. The organisational voluntary assisted dying clinical practice guidelines stated that voluntary assisted dying could not occur in the PCU, in line with the Royal Australasian College of Physicians (RACP) statement on voluntary assisted dying, which recommended that “voluntary assisted dying must not be seen as part of palliative care”.2 The patient was informed of the organisational approach and the need to minimise misperceptions about the PCU. Both the patient and her support person understood and accepted our stance, and we commenced the search for another site within the service that could accommodate her wishes. Staff in the first venue of care option conscientiously objected to the admission. Despite her condition continuing to deteriorate and the imminence of her preferred date of administration, she remained understanding. Another venue of care within the service was found and she was transferred there 2 days before her birthday. She self‐administered the voluntary assisted dying substance on her birthday as originally intended. Conscientious objection Although not defined in the Act, conscientious objection has been outlined by the Victorian Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) as an outcome of a conflict in beliefs or values.3 A similar conflict was recently discussed in relation to a growing concern about moral injury in health care, where moral injury was defined as “perpetrating, failing to prevent, bearing witness to, or learning about acts that transgress deeply held moral beliefs and expectations”.4 Health care professionals are subject to moral injury as a result of “being unable to provide high‐quality care and healing in the context of health care”.5 In this context, conscientious objection becomes integral to the psychological safety of the health care workforce as voluntary assisted dying is introduced into mainstream medicine. The DHHS in Victoria permitted each health service within its jurisdiction to decide on their extent of involvement in voluntary assisted dying.4 This was determined by “whether participation aligns with the values of the health service”.6 The Catholic Health and Aged Care Services, which are responsible for several health services across Victoria, were clear that they would not provide or facilitate voluntary assisted dying.7 Such health services are under no obligation to refer a patient who has requested voluntary assisted dying. However, there is a requirement to inform the patient as soon as practicable that they will not assist them and the services cannot actively inhibit the patient's access to treatment.3 All health services were obliged to nominate their level of participation, irrespective of the actual number of health care professionals in the organisation willing to be involved with voluntary assisted dying.3 These choices were: pathway A — single service (it has the necessary suite of services and staff with sufficient expertise to provide voluntary assisted dying within their existing health service); pathway B — partnership service (these services would require the assistance of other services to provide the full requirement of voluntary assisted dying); and pathway C — information and support service (it includes services electing not to provide voluntary assisted dying). The dilemma of this approach for health care services is the contentious nature of voluntary assisted dying. Organisations consist of people some of whose individual values and beliefs are unlikely to align neatly under the organisational approach when it comes to voluntary assisted dying. The Voluntary Assisted Dying Act (Part 1, Section 7) outlines scenarios where registered health care practitioners may conscientiously object to participation in the voluntary assisted dying process.1 It provides for health care staff to refuse to participate in, or be present for, the administration of the voluntary assisted dying substance. The DHHS has provided clear guidelines for individual health care practitioners with regards to conscientious objection.3 A health practitioner “has the right to refuse to assist or support the patient when the assistance is associated with voluntary assisted dying”. Health practitioners are expected to “provide routine and other care unrelated to a request for voluntary assisted dying”.3 Health practitioners also need to balance their own moral and ethical beliefs while respecting differences and ensuring the rights of the patient are upheld. Therefore, health services face the challenge of navigating between the principle of justice and equity in access to health care and the responsibilities to their employees. Health practitioners cannot conscientiously object to the routine care of a patient who has elected to undertake voluntary assisted dying. Palliative care The specialty of palliative care is in its infancy, having only received recognition in Australasia as a specialty in 1998. It aims to improve the quality of life of patients and caregivers, faced with life‐limiting illness, by addressing physical, psychosocial and spiritual challenges. There is mounting evidence that it is indeed effective in doing so.8 Nevertheless, population‐based studies demonstrate a public misperception associating palliative care with euthanasia.9 The International Association for Hospice and Palliative Care has stated that assisted dying in all its forms corrodes the work done by the specialty and risks patients refusing palliative care for fear that health practitioners may hasten their death.10 There is a continuing need to increase public awareness of palliative care and clarify misperceptions. Therefore, palliative care services need to maintain their differentiation from voluntary assisted dying. The RACP emphasises that voluntary assisted dying “must not be seen as part of palliative care” and that they need to be seen as “distinct practices”.2 Peak palliative care organisations, such as Palliative Care Australia and the Australia and New Zealand Society of Palliative Medicine, similarly emphasise that voluntary assisted dying is not part of palliative care practice.11,12 The International Association for Hospice and Palliative Care has recommended that assisted dying practices not take place in PCUs.10 The risk otherwise is further blurring of the public perception and an erosion of trust. The RACP has recommended that all patients seeking voluntary assisted dying should be made aware of palliative care and that a referral to palliative care is strongly recommended.2 The Victorian DHHS, in its voluntary assisted dying documentation, has also outlined a key role for palliative care. This includes “managing complex communication interactions with patients and families, and responding to complicated, multifaceted psychosocial and/or spiritual distress”.3 Furthermore, they describe the most “valuable [role] palliative care specialists play is supporting other healthcare teams and professionals through consultation, advice and support to provide end‐of‐life care for their patients”.3 The challenges for palliative care services are therefore clearly visible: how to maintain its distinction and separation from voluntary assisted dying and yet provide a necessary and expected service for patients at the end of life who have elected voluntary assisted dying. The RACP and the DHHS guidelines will necessitate palliative care involvement, not only for our patients and their families but also in support of medical practitioners. Palliative care services risk becoming the gatekeepers for voluntary assisted dying because of our expertise in managing complex communication and discussions around death and dying. In addition, there is the risk of further burdening already stretched palliative care services, with education, counselling and support of fellow health service staff, in matters relating to voluntary assisted dying. It is important to note that the voluntary assisted dying legislation does not provide extra resources to services to support their health care staff. Nevertheless, specialist palliative care services can help patients who elect voluntary assisted dying, as they are well placed to provide specialist support within clear boundaries of engagement. This can include optimal symptom management as well as psychosocial and spiritual support. The RACP, the Australia and New Zealand Society of Palliative Medicine and Palliative Care Australia have all emphasised the need for greater access and resourcing for specialist palliative care. Our concern echoes that of the Catholic Health and Aged Care Services that we cannot, at this time, be distracted by the diversion of limited palliative care resources to voluntary assisted dying and lose focus on the need to ensure adequate and timely access to palliative care across Victoria and Australia.7 The perception of specialist palliative care services in cases where voluntary assisted dying has been requested will remain problematic. Collaboration with families and treating teams is essential and should involve the recognition of specialist palliative care involvement separate from voluntary assisted dying. The challenge remains to educate the public and health care professionals about palliative care and how it differs from voluntary assisted dying, amidst a new background of mixed messages. Regardless of the end‐of‐life choice made, holistic care and good communication skills are not solely related to our specialty, these are skills that can be, and need to be, routine for all areas of medicine.

Eswaran Waran · Leeroy William

Medical education

Ethics and law

Editorial

Research

Ethics 10 August 2020 Free

Sexual misconduct by health professionals in Australia, 2011–2016: a retrospective analysis of notifications to health regulators

Objectives: To assess the numbers of notifications to health regulators alleging sexual misconduct by registered health practitioners in Australia, by health care profession. Design, setting: Retrospective cohort study; analysis of Australian Health Practitioner Regulation Agency and NSW Health Professional Councils Authority data on notifications of sexual misconduct during 2011–2016. Participants: All registered practitioners in 15 health professions. Main outcome measures: Notification rates (per 10 000 practitioner‐years) and adjusted rate ratios (aRRs) by age, sex, profession, medical specialty, and practice location. Results: Regulators received 1507 sexual misconduct notifications for 1167 of 724 649 registered health practitioners (0.2%), including 208 practitioners (18%) who were the subjects of more than one report during 2011–2016; 381 notifications (25%) alleged sexual relationships, 1126 (75%) sexual harassment or assault. Notifications regarding sexual relationships were more frequent for psychiatrists (15.2 notifications per 10 000 practitioner‐years), psychologists (5.0 per 10 000 practitioner‐years), and general practitioners (6.4 per 10 000 practitioner‐years); the rate was higher for regional/rural than metropolitan practitioners (aRR, 1.73; 95% CI, 1.31–2.30). Notifications of sexual harassment or assault more frequently named male than female practitioners (aRR, 37.1; 95% CI, 26.7–51.5). A larger proportion of notifications of sexual misconduct than of other forms of misconduct led to regulatory sanctions (242 of 709 closed cases [34%] v 5727 of 23 855 [24%]). Conclusions: While notifications alleging sexual misconduct by health practitioners are rare, such misconduct has serious consequences for patients, practitioners, and the community. Further efforts are needed to prevent sexual misconduct in health care and to ensure thorough investigation of alleged misconduct.

Marie M Bismark · David M Studdert · Katinka Morton · Ron Paterson · Matthew J Spittal · Yamna Taouk

Research letters

Infectious diseases 10 August 2020 Free

Mumps outbreak in a rugby league team despite pre‐existing immunity

While mumps outbreaks involving professional rugby league, rugby union, and ice hockey teams have been reported in the media,1,2,3,4,5 there have been few scientific reports. On 30 January 2018, a general practitioner notified the local Public Health Unit of a mumps outbreak in a National Rugby League team, prompting investigation according to the NSW Public Health Act 2010. Four players and two coaching staff had developed fever and parotitis during 21–24 January (Box). Mumps virus was detected by polymerase chain reaction (PCR) in the buccal or throat swabs of two patients; each had detectable mumps IgG but not IgM (Liaison Mumps IgG and IgM, DiaSorin). In the other four patients, who had fever and parotid swelling, mumps was diagnosed clinically. The patients were isolated and their travel restricted; the Public Health Unit recommended measles–mumps–rubella (MMR) vaccination of all asymptomatic players and support staff. A further six cases were diagnosed during 1–10 February, in five players and an intimate contact of one of the earlier PCR‐positive patients; the contact developed symptoms 18 days after symptom onset in the source patient. Mumps virus was detected by PCR in four of the six new patients; two were diagnosed clinically. In one PCR‐positive case, mumps IgG, but not IgM, was detected. In all six PCR‐positive patients, genotype G mumps virus was identified. The offer of vaccination was extended to the partners of players and staff, and to players from four elite clubs who shared facilities with the team; by 19 February, 178 players and support staff and their partners had been vaccinated. No new cases were diagnosed after 10 February, and the outbreak was declared ended on 31 March. None of the 12 patients (median age, 25 years; range, 18–39 years) suffered complications. The nine players were from a pool of 42 elite and junior players, an estimated attack rate of 21%. Significantly, mumps‐specific IgG had been detected in nine patients (all players) at the time of their joining the club; the other three patients (all non‐players) had not previously been tested. Documentation of past vaccination was unavailable. No players or staff who received MMR vaccine during the outbreak developed mumps. The intimate contact who developed mumps was vaccinated at least 10 days after first exposure, at which point they were probably in the incubation phase of infection. This was the first mumps outbreak in NSW for many years, and nine of the twelve patients had pre‐existing mumps IgG, which does not appear to be a reliable marker of protective immunity.6 Patients who underwent both serology and PCR testing had detectable IgG but not detectable IgM. This pattern, generally understood to reflect waning immunity following vaccination — that is, pre‐existing mumps‐specific IgG does not prevent infection but its concentration rapidly increases after infection — was also reported for a community outbreak in Western Australia.7 PCR testing is consequently preferable for detecting infection in vaccinated populations, and outbreak control should include vaccination of contacts, even if they have previously received two doses of mumps vaccine.8 Apart from hockey, mumps outbreaks in elite team sports other than the rugby codes have not been reported. Intensive exposure to saliva may result in greater force of infection; tackling and scrums facilitate frequent contact with saliva from fellow players’ faces and on jerseys contaminated by the wiping of mouthguards. Ensuring at registration that players have received two documented lifetime doses of mumps vaccine may be a more effective preventive measure than relying on IgG screening. Ethics approval All patients and their rugby league club provided written consent for the publication of this report. Box – Timeline of the mumps outbreak in a New South Wales National Rugby League team, 21 January – 10 February 2018 PCR = polymerase chain reaction testing.

Karen Chee · Cassy Workman · Susan Irvine · Mark J Ferson

Infectious diseases 20 April 2020 Free

Characteristics, treatment and complications of herpes zoster ophthalmicus at a tertiary eye hospital

Herpes zoster ophthalmicus (HZO), a condition that affects the ophthalmic division of the trigeminal nerve, is caused by reactivation of latent varicella zoster virus;1,2 about 10% of people with varicella zoster infections experience HZO.1 Over the past decade, the number of emergency department presentations by people with herpes zoster in Australia has increased by 2–6% per year, and the number of people with herpes zoster managed in general practice has almost doubled.3 The purpose of our study was to develop a contemporary perspective of the clinical presentation, incidence of complications, and treatment practice for patients with HZO referred to an Australian tertiary eye hospital. We performed a retrospective audit of digital health records of the first 100 consecutive patients who presented to the Royal Victorian Eye and Ear Hospital (RVEEH) emergency department with HZO during July 2017 – July 2018. The investigation was approved by the Human Research Ethics Committee of the Hospital as a quality control project (reference, 18/1416HL). The clinical features at the time of presentation of the 100 patients are summarised in the Box. Sixty‐five patients initially presented to their general practitioner, 20 to a hospital emergency department, and 15 directly to the RVEEH. The mean time between rash onset and presentation to a GP or emergency department was 3.3 days (range, 0–14 days). For 51 patients, treatment commenced before presentation to the RVEEH (famciclovir, 27; valaciclovir, 16; acyclovir, 6; two patients had received no topical treatment); treatment had commenced within 72 hours of the rash developing for 36 of these patients (71%). The recommended dose and frequency were prescribed for 16 of the 51 patients: famciclovir (500 mg three times a day), two patients; valaciclovir (1 g three times a day), 12 patients; acyclovir (800 mg five times a day), two patients. For 29 patients, antiviral therapy was prescribed at lower than the recommended dose (famciclovir, 21 patients; valaciclovir, two patients; acyclovir, two patients) or prescribed as a topical treatment (acyclovir, two patients); the prescribing information was not documented for five patients. Nineteen of the 68 patients who attended follow‐up 7–14 days after their initial presentation to the RVEEH presented with ocular symptoms regarded as late complications, including four with more than one complication. Eight of 29 patients (29%) who had not commenced systemic antiviral therapy within 72 hours of rash onset developed late complications, as did 13 of 71 patients (18%) who were treated within 72 hours (Fisher exact test: P = 0.78). We found concerning variations in timing and practice of treating HZO, despite recognised clinical guidelines.4,5 This may be partly explained by diagnostic uncertainty caused by the variability of clinical signs during the early stages of HZO,6 and by an earlier discrepancy between the famciclovir dosing recommended by therapeutic guidelines (250 mg three times a day) and recommendations based upon the results of a clinical trial4 (500 mg three times a day). This discrepancy has since been resolved in the therapeutic guidelines.4 Our findings suggest that education of all health care professionals involved in the care of patients with HZO needs to be improved. Clinical practice guidelines must provide clear and consistent information about managing HZO. Box – Demographic characteristics and clinical features of 100 consecutive people presenting with herpes zoster ophthalmicus to the Royal Victorian Eye and Ear Hospital, July 2017 – July 2018 Characteristic Sex (men) 52 Age at presentation (years), median (IQR) 59 (39–76) Age at presentation (years), range 16–93 Clinical features at presentation Best‐corrected visual acuity ≥ 6/12 62 Intra‐ocular pressure (mmHg), mean (SD) 15.4 (5.9) Rash 92 Pain 63 Conjunctivitis 62 Lid swelling 53 Skin erythema 41 Anterior uveitis 26 Keratitis 20 Other* 6 Late complications 19 Uveitis 11 Keratitis 5 Other† 3 IQR = interquartile range; SD = standard deviation. * Raised intra‐ocular pressure, retinitis/choroiditis, optic neuritis, cranial nerve palsy. † Neuralgia, elevated intra‐ocular pressure.

Rahul Chakrabarti · Grace George · Kristen Wells · Carmel Crock

Systematic review

Health occupations 3 August 2020 Free

Recruiting and retaining general practitioners in rural practice: systematic review and meta‐analysis of rural pipeline effects

Objective: To synthesise quantitative data on the effects of rural background and experience in rural areas during medical training on the likelihood of general practitioners practising and remaining in rural areas. Study design: Systematic review and meta‐analysis of the effects of rural pipeline factors (rural background; rural clinical and education experience during undergraduate and postgraduate/vocational training) on likelihood of later general practice in rural areas. Data sources: MEDLINE (Ovid), EMBASE, Informit Health Collection, and ERIC electronic database records published to September 2018; bibliographies of retrieved articles; grey literature. Data synthesis: Of 6709 publications identified by our search, 27 observational studies were eligible for inclusion in our systematic review; when appropriate, data were pooled in random effects models for meta‐analysis. Study quality, assessed with the Newcastle–Ottawa scale, was very good or good for 24 studies, satisfactory for two, and unsatisfactory for one. Meta‐analysis indicated that GPs practising in rural communities was significantly associated with having a rural background (odds ratio [OR], 2.71; 95% CI, 2.12–3.46; ten studies) and with rural clinical experience during undergraduate (OR, 1.75; 95% CI, 1.48–2.08; five studies) and postgraduate training (OR, 4.57; 95% CI, 2.80–7.46; eight studies). Conclusion: GPs with rural backgrounds or rural experience during undergraduate or postgraduate medical training are more likely to practise in rural areas. The effects of multiple rural pipeline factors may be cumulative, and the duration of an experience influences the likelihood of a GP commencing and remaining in rural general practice. These findings could inform government‐led initiatives to support an adequate rural GP workforce. Protocol registration: PROSPERO, CRD42017074943 (updated 1 February 2018).

Jessica Ogden · Scott Preston · Riitta L Partanen · Remo Ostini · Peter Coxeter

Letters

Cancer 7 September 2020 Free

Telehealth in cancer care during the COVID‐19 pandemic

To the Editor: The coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID‐19) pandemic has required rapid adjustments in health service delivery.1 The Victorian COVID‐19 Cancer Network (VCCN) is a joint initiative of the Victorian Comprehensive Cancer Centre and Monash Partners Comprehensive Cancer Consortium. Through expert groups, the VCCN aims to provide support and advice to clinicians and health care services treating cancer patients during the pandemic. The VCCN Telehealth Expert Working Group conducted a survey to understand the barriers and enablers to the rapid adoption of telehealth in health services during the first week of April 2020. Seventeen cancer services from across metropolitan and regional Victoria and Tasmania responded. Notably, all respondent cancer services had implemented some form of telehealth since the pandemic. Healthdirect, the Victorian Department of Health and Human Services’ supported telehealth platform, was used in 40% of services, with 25% using phone only and others using platforms such as Skype, FaceTime and doxy.me. With the unprecedented increase in the uptake of telehealth,2 there is a tremendous opportunity to integrate telehealth into routine practice, potentially improving inequities and inefficiencies in the delivery of cancer care for suitably selected patients. Our survey results suggest several areas for attention to support telehealth, including the need for further investment in information technology infrastructure across health services and administrative support to facilitate changes in practice and workflow (Box). The survey results also highlight the educational and training needs of consumers and health professionals during telehealth implementation. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders, people from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds and of lower socio‐economic status, and older patients may have greater needs and will require additional support from both government and relevant organisations to ensure equity of access to cancer care via telehealth. We strongly advocate the need to establish evidence‐based, patient‐centred and sustainable telehealth in cancer management. Research into the experience of patients and clinicians should be prioritised to ensure the consistent quality of telehealth consultation with face‐to‐face consultation in appropriate clinical circumstances. Box – Barriers to implementing telehealth: survey results

Zee Wan Wong · Hannah L Cross

Environmental health 7 September 2020 Free

Citation metrics for appraising scientists: misuse, gaming and proper use

To the Editor: In their recent article, Ioannidis and Boyack focused on the misuse of author‐ and journal‐based metrics.1 The “predatory and other easy journals” they allude to are becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish2 in a widening continuum of journal quality that is seeing some overlap between predatory journals and indexed (eg, in Web of Science, Scopus or PubMed) journals that are traditionally perceived to be of peer‐review quality and whose scholarly content has been editorially authenticated.3 This increasing overlap between predatory and indexed journals is accentuated by an increasing lack of reproducibility, often revealed through post‐publication peer review of indexed journals.4 Predatory journals may also seek scholarly validation by allowing citation of their papers to infiltrate supposedly reputable databases.5 However, the continued inability to identify such journals invalidates calls to ban such entities or to not cite papers from currently blacklisted predatory journals, as was recently suggested by the International Committee of Medical Journal Editors.6 Increasing retractions in the biomedical literature as a result of post‐publication peer review — which identifies errors and misuses such as the manipulation of citations discussed by Ioannidis and Boyack, including inflated and coercive self‐citation— affect author‐based metrics and journal‐based metrics differently. It is incumbent upon authors, editors and publishers to correct inflated, skewed or distorted author‐ and journal‐based metrics. To achieve this, retractions need to be destigmatised. Moreover, inflated author‐ and journal‐based metrics (eg, H‐index, Journal Impact Factor [Web of Science Group], CiteScore [Elsevier]) need to be adjusted with corrective, but not punitive, measures, to correct for imbalances and unfair rewards that may be associated with the attribution of citations of retracted (and thus potentially invalid) literature.7 Self‐citations that support stated claims are valid, independent of their number, and involve no ethical breaches. However, the misuse of self‐citations to manipulate author‐ and journal‐based metrics, such as citation cartels,8 raises ethical red flags. Independent of the possible ethical parameters of inflated or coercive self‐citation, such metrics can also be adjusted downwards to reflect the more balanced perspective of an author‐ or journal‐based metric.9 If the identity of predatory journals can be clearly determined and unanimously agreed upon, then the journal‐based metrics of valid, indexed scholarly journals that cite such journals should be adjusted accordingly.

Jaime A Teixeira da Silva

Statistics 7 September 2020 Free

Citation metrics for appraising scientists: misuse, gaming and proper use

To the editor: Ioannidis and Boyack discussed misuse of and gaming mechanisms for citation metrics in the publication records of scientists.1 Studies have suggested some other limitations regarding citation‐based bibliometric indices in the evaluation of articles2 or journals.3 A recent study showed the confounding effect of highly cited items on impact factor calculation.3 Previously, we measured a considerable effect for a series of highly cited articles affiliated with the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluations (IHME; University of Washington, Seattle) on the impact factor of The Lancet.4 Here, we evaluate the impact of these articles on the researchers’ quantitative bibliometric indices. Using the Scopus (Elsevier) database, we identified the 20 authors with the greatest involvement in IHME‐affiliated articles. We then extracted and calculated the scientometric indices (H‐index, total number of published items, and citations) of these authors, with and without their IHME‐affiliated articles. The mean (standard deviation) percentage of IHME‐affiliated papers for the authors was 47.5% (20.6%) of their total publications, leading to 81.6% (13.9%) of their total citations. Further, 49.6% (18.3%) of all authors’ H‐indices were related to IHME‐affiliated papers (Box). Accordingly, collaboration in HME‐affiliated articles can easily provide a large number of citations for authors and increase their H‐index. We believe that scientometric indices based on the citation count may require correction to avoid the confounding effect of such highly cited items. Further investigations considering all IHME collaborators are needed for a better understanding of the IHME effect on scientometric indices. We recognise that IHME‐affiliated papers are but a sample; the effect of other similar series of highly cited articles on bibliometric indices requires further evaluation. Box – Effect of articles affiliated with the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluations (IHME) on scientometric indices (total published items, citation count and H‐index), by the 20 most published authors

Hamidreza Karimi‐Sari · Mohammad Saeid Rezaee‐Zavareh

Cancer 7 September 2020 Free

HPV swab self‐collection and cervical cancer in women who have sex with women

To the Editor: A recent article highlighted a case where self‐collection enabled detection of an early cervical adenocarcinoma and curative treatment in a previously underscreened woman.1 This case underlines the important benefits from self‐collection making cervical screening more accessible and acceptable to women who have previously declined or delayed screening. Unfortunately, self‐collection is currently very underutilised in Australia. Although it is currently restricted to women aged 30 years and over who are 2 or more years overdue for cervical screening, potentially around a million women are eligible.2 In contrast, data from Medicare, VCS Pathology, and the National Cancer Screening Register suggest that fewer than 6000 self‐collected tests were processed over 2018 and 2019, indicating that less than 1% of eligible women have had a self‐collected test. What drives this discrepancy? Self‐collection is highly acceptable to underscreened Australian women, and very high uptake can be achieved with appropriate clinical support.3 A recent survey reported that many practitioners, especially outside Victoria, do not yet feel comfortable discussing or recommending self‐collection, and lack confidence that self‐collection is a reliable test.4 Potentially, this is due to an initial delay in self‐collection being available, confusion about eligibility, and current restrictions giving the false impression that self‐collection is less sensitive. Self‐collection is now available to eligible women nationally (provided samples are sent to one of two accredited laboratories, which accept samples from anywhere in Australia), and updated evidence demonstrates that polymerase chain reaction‐based human papillomavirus (HPV) testing is equally sensitive for detecting pre‐cancer in self‐collected and clinician‐collected samples.5 Another barrier may be difficulties for providers in checking whether women are eligible. The rollout of the provider portal into the National Cancer Screening Register, allowing providers to view a woman's screening history at the point of care, will be important in addressing this issue. Many screening‐eligible women who have not had their first HPV test are now overdue and could be eligible for self‐collection. Self‐collection is a reliable test now available nationally to eligible women, which can have a transformative effect in the lives of underscreened women, as shown in the recent case study.

Megan Smith · Marion Saville · Karen Canfell

Vascular diseases 7 September 2020 Free

May–Thurner syndrome: an overlooked cause of venous thromboembolism

To the Editor: The recent article by Akram and Sadashiv1 presents a timely and most welcome opportunity to enhance awareness, in the medical community at large, of the investigation and treatment options for proximal deep vein thrombosis (DVT) of the lower extremity. Diagnosis of lower extremity DVT is generally made or confirmed with duplex ultrasound assessment. Standards in Australia and New Zealand state that duplex ultrasound for DVT should determine the proximal extent of the thrombus, as well as identify structures causing extrinsic compression that may have contributed to the thrombosis.2 This information assists the clinician in determining the need to consider specific treatments, such as venous stenting for May–Thurner syndrome or placement of a caval filter in cases where there is a free‐floating thrombus in the inferior vena cava. Duplex ultrasound can play a key role in the diagnosis of May–Thurner syndrome.3 Technical factors, such as the presence of bowel gas, may inhibit ultrasonographic views of the abdominal and pelvic vasculature, and may therefore prevent attainment of the required information. Further, clinical experience in vascular surgery services in Australia and overseas has shown that, despite the above‐mentioned standards, it is common for there to be no attempt to obtain adequate proximal views during ultrasound DVT scans. Clinicians should therefore be wary of the limitations of ultrasound DVT scans and consider alternate imaging modalities such as computed tomography venography in cases where ultrasound has yielded inadequate information. Clinicians should also be aware of the potential of clot removal therapies such as catheter‐directed thrombolysis to improve long term outcomes for patients with proximal lower extremity DVT, whether or not May–Thurner syndrome is identified as a predisposing factor. Recent studies have reported improvements in the incidence and/or severity of post‐thrombotic syndrome in patients receiving catheter‐directed thrombolysis compared with those treated with anticoagulation alone.4,5 The appropriateness of catheter‐directed thrombolysis for some patients is acknowledged in the relevant guidelines,6 although patient selection remains a topic of debate. Lower extremity DVT is a common condition encountered in both inpatient and community settings. Due to technical considerations and quality variations, ultrasound DVT scans do not always yield adequate information to determine the optimal therapeutic approach. In such situations, consultation with a vascular specialist is strongly encouraged.

Trevor MY Kwok

Erratum

7 September 2020 Free

Erratum

Akram F, Sadashiv RG. May–Thurner syndrome: an overlooked cause of venous thromboembolism. Med J Aust 2020; 212: 402–403.e1. https://doi.org/10.5694/mja2.50548. In this Perspective article, the Box title should read: “Computed tomography (CT) venogram image showing maximally compressed left common iliac vein (blue arrow) and distal abdominal aorta just before it bifurcates (red arrow). The sequential CT images (not shown) demonstrate a thrombus in the external iliac vein and left common iliac vein as it passes posterior to the proximal right common iliac artery, suggestive of May–Thurner syndrome”.

Next Issue Volume 213 Issue 6

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MJA20213 6 2120 Sep cover
News 21 September 2020 Free

News briefs

Perspectives 17 August 2020 Free

“Now we say Black Lives Matter but … the fact of the matter is, we just Black matter to them”1

Chelsea J Bond · Lisa J Whop · David Singh · Helena Kajlich

Perspectives 21 September 2020 Free

Current COVID‐19 guidelines for respiratory protection of health care workers are inadequate

C Raina MacIntyre · Michelle Ananda‐Rajah · Mark Nicholls · Ashley L Quigley

Previous Issue Volume 213 Issue 4

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MJA20213 4 1720cover
Careers 30 April 2021 Free

COVID-19, Black Lives Matter and making a difference

Cate Swannell

News 17 August 2020 Free

News briefs

Perspectives 17 August 2020 Free

First Nations peoples leading the way in COVID‐19 pandemic planning, response and management

Kristy Crooks · Dawn Casey · James S Ward

Perspectives 3 August 2020 Free

Unemployment, suicide and COVID‐19: using the evidence to plan for prevention

Mark Deady · Leona Tan · Nathasha Kugenthiran · Daniel Collins · Helen Christensen · Samuel B Harvey

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