What can I see now on the secret doctors-only-web?

Summary

The article discusses the privileged access to timely and accurate medical information that healthcare professionals have during the COVID-19 pandemic through restricted social media platforms and message boards, contrasting this with the misinformation prevalent in public discourse.

Abstract

In the midst of a global health crisis caused by a novel and deadly virus, the article highlights the significant advantage that doctors possess: exclusive access to a network of online medical communities. These platforms serve as a vital source of real-time information and peer discussions on COVID-19, ranging from early observations of its symptoms to the effectiveness of various treatments and protective measures. The author emphasizes the value of these resources in staying informed and protecting both healthcare workers and patients. This insider access to credible information stands in stark contrast to the public domain, where misinformation and conspiracy theories abound, leading to dangerous misconceptions about the virus and its impact. The article underscores the importance of accurate information in guiding public health practices and the stark difference between the informed discussions among medical professionals and the often misguided beliefs found elsewhere.

Opinions

The author values the timely access to medical information as one of the most significant privileges of being a doctor during the pandemic.
There is a sense of frustration with the spread of misinformation outside of medical circles, which is seen as a hindrance to public health efforts.
The author appreciates the collegial sharing of insights and experiences on medical social media platforms, which contribute to a better understanding of the virus and its management.
The article criticizes the dissemination of unfounded claims and conspiracy theories related to COVID-19, such as the virus being engineered as a bioweapon or the idea that mask-wearing can lead to CO2 poisoning.
There is a clear distinction made between the evidence-based discussions within the medical community and the often contradictory and harmful narratives present in the general public's social media.
The author expresses concern over the public's lack of adherence to safety measures, such as mask-wearing and social distancing, despite the clear guidance from health professionals.

What can I see now on the secret doctors-only-web?

Doctors like to complain about the erosion of our autonomy and independence, but having a medical license still comes with plenty of perks. Some are obvious like, say, the means to diagnose and treat diseases. Others are of questionable value: the obligation to respond to a medical emergency on board a cross-country flight. Some are alluring myths, such as getting out of a speeding ticket by insisting you’re heading to a medical emergency (hasn’t worked for me yet).

Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash

In these times, however, the privilege I appreciate most is timely access to information. A still-novel and still-lethal virus is tearing its way through our population, leaving a growing number of deaths in its wake, including around 600 of my colleagues on the front lines. Walking into the hospital for my 24-hour shift, returning home to hug my wife and children, just venturing out to pick up groceries, I want to know what to do not to join their ranks, not to mention how to best protect my patients.

Ah, but I have an edge on everyone else: access to medical message boards, Facebook groups, and entire social media platforms restricted to medical providers. These sites are the online equivalent of the hospital doctors’ lounge, without the free peanut butter. Before people commonly knew that COVID caused weird rashes and blisters in children, I saw it on the private COVID-19 Pediatrician group on Facebook. When the blood clotting effects of Sars-CoV-2 — strokes, heart attacks, gangrene — were still a rumor, providers on the COVID-19 USA Physician/APP Facebook group were batting around which anticoagulants might help and at what doses. Hope around “miracle cures” like hydroxychloroquine bloomed and withered in the med-web before they were embraced by politicians and shot down by researchers.

So, what’s behind this velvet rope today? Let’s take a peek. The pediatricians on Facebook are wondering if non-alcohol hand sanitizers are as effective against coronavirus as those with isopropyl alcohol (no). Is there less harm in sending an active 3-year-old to day camp or continuing to isolate him at home? (Thirty-three replies, tipping in favor of camp but only with maximal precautions.)

Over at the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) message board, posters wonder if other practices are seeing a surge in pink eye and other ocular complaints due to COVID (no replies yet). Is it necessary to seal off an exam room for the rest of the day after swabbing a child for COVID in it? (Probably, better to set up drive-by testing.)

What if we look beyond the world of pediatrics? On the COVID-19 USA Physician/APP group, there’s a question of how deaths skew strongly toward the elderly, along with a discussion of whether long-term disability in younger patients should be given just as much attention as deaths when we talk about the disease. On Doximity, the lead thread explores how two of the most hallowed journals in medicine — The Lancet and The New England Journal of Medicine —ended up publishing discredited articles about hydroxychloroquine without first vetting the flawed database on which the findings were founded.

Each post features discussion, debate, even disagreement. But here’s what you won’t see anywhere in the secret med-web: a completely alternate reality. Nobody with the skills and training to evaluate the facts is claiming that Sars-CoV-2 was engineered as a bioweapon in Wuhan and then intentionally unleashed upon the world. Nobody suggests that wearing a surgical mask will give people CO2 narcosis. No one is seriously asserting that the outsized impact of COVID on our minority communities arises because “the colored population do not wash their hands as well as other groups.”

Stepping outside of the med-web and back into regular social media is like opening the door of the doctors’ lounge into the tornado from The Wizard of Oz. The house is spinning, men are rowing by in a boat, and Almira Gulch is bicycling past. In this world, COVID-19 deaths are being over-reported, children cannot contract or transmit the infection, and if a few people’s grandparents die, that’s just the price of a haircut.

And in case I think the madness is limited to the online world, all I have to do is run to the Harris Teeter down the street for some milk and eggs. In my doctor-world, we all agree that N-95 masks are the best way to keep ourselves and our loved ones alive, and we are still debating whether it’s now okay to hug our kids before bagging up our scrubs in the garage and taking a hot shower. Meanwhile, as every indicator of COVID in my state points upward, the Harris Teeter produce section is crowded with my un-masked neighbors ignoring social distancing like so many winged monkeys.

Are the privileges of being a doctor eroding? In some ways, yes. But right now I have the most important perks I can enjoy: access to a properly fitted N-95 respirator and an early warning system comprised of tens of thousands of my colleagues who all share a general notion of what reality is and how we arrive at something approximating truth. If my neighbors over by the cantaloupes could spend just ten minutes in the online doctors’ lounge, I’d like to think they would strap on a mask and stop giving me the side eye. Then, and only then, will the tornado subside so we can land this house.