A woman checking her breast for the presence of concerning lumps.
Nancy Cappello was proactive. When she turned 36, she had a baseline mammogram, a standard medical recommendation in the late 1980s and early 1990s as a comparison tool for future screenings. At 40, Cappello started getting them annually.
Her breast surgeon estimated the cancer had been festering for four to five years under the radar of her annual mammograms.
Six weeks after her 11th-consecutive normal mammogram, she was diagnosed with Stage IIIc breast cancer.
A doctor felt a lump while doing a breast exam during her annual physical and a subsequent ultrasound detected cancer that had spread to 13 lymph nodes. That's when Cappello, then 51, learned she had dense breast tissue, making mammography less likely to detect tumors in her breasts.
She also discovered through her own research that she was among the 40 to 50 percent of women with dense breast tissue — almost half the female population — but medical protocol did not require physicians to inform women of their dense tissue status. If she had known, she said, she would have gotten an ultrasound every year in addition to a mammogram that could have detected the cancer much earlier. Cappello said her breast surgeon estimated the cancer had been festering for four to five years under the radar of her annual mammograms.
Although ultrasound as a cancer screening tool has been available for decades, technological advances are helping doctors find more invasive cancers in women with dense breasts, in turn giving women who know their tissue status the opportunity for earlier detection and treatment.
"We know that the gold standard for breast cancer screening is mammography, but in women with dense breast tissue, up to one third of breast cancers can be missed with this modality alone."
Dr. Georgia Giakoumis Spear, chief of the department of breast imaging at NorthShore University HealthSystem in suburban Chicago and assistant professor of radiology at the University of Chicago, has been a leader in developing standards for the use of new ultrasound technology. She is leading a study to develop more specific national guidelines around the use of Automated Whole Breast Tissue Ultrasound (ABUS), a non-invasive procedure in which sound waves are used to scan breast tissue while a patient lies on her back with her arm over her head.
Approved by the Food and Drug Administration in 2012, ABUS provides higher quality 3D images and faster delivery to provide more accurate results than past ultrasound technology. The scan does not involve radiation, and a practitioner can complete the process in 15 to 20 minutes, from patient preparation to image creation. NorthShore has been using ABUS since 2015, Dr. Spear said, and the technology can improve breast cancer detection in women with dense breasts by up to 55 percent.
"We know that the gold standard for breast cancer screening is mammography, but in women with dense breast tissue, up to one third of breast cancers can be missed with this modality alone," Spear says. "And when we supplement screening with ultrasound in this population of women, we have found a large number of cancers by ultrasound that are not visible on the mammogram."
Mammography should still be used as the first step for breast cancer detection, but if an initial mammogram shows that a patient has dense breast tissue, studies encourage discussion of additional screening with ultrasound.
On a mammogram, dense tissue appears white. So do cancerous masses, making them easy to miss.
A radiologist determines tissue density, according to the American College of Radiology's Breast Imaging Reporting and Data System (BI-RADS). "A" and "B" breast density categories designate ratios of mostly fatty, or non-dense tissues, while the "C" and "D" categories designate heterogeneously dense and extremely dense tissue, respectively. Such patients would be classified as having dense tissue. Younger women, women with lower levels of body fat and women undergoing hormone therapy are more likely to have C and D breast density.
On a mammogram, dense tissue appears white. So do cancerous masses, making them easy to miss. Fatty tissue, in comparison, appears black, making tumors easier to spot.
The FDA stated among its policy goals for 2018 that it's placing an improved focus on recognizing technological advances to help "ensure women get the most relevant, up-to-date information about their breast density, which is now recognized as a risk factor for breast cancer." An article in the March 2018 Journal of the American College of Radiology recommended supplemental screening for women with higher-than-average breast cancer risk, placing women with dense breast tissue in that category.
To be sure, some in the medical community are reluctant to push for ultrasounds, saying that a mammogram might be enough even if the woman has dense breast tissue. A patient is advised to discuss the option of ultrasound with her physician and they can decide from there.
Access to such information became political for Cappello after her diagnosis in 2004. She said that as she underwent six surgeries, a mastectomy, chemotherapy, radiation and hormone therapy, she asked doctors why they weren't required to inform women of their dense breast tissue status. Her dissatisfaction with their responses led to the formation of Are You Dense, Inc., an advocacy group aimed to inform women of their medical options while working to pass legislation mandating that women know their tissue status. Other legislation has focused on mandating insurance coverage for breast ultrasounds.
Nancy Cappello.
(Courtesy)
Cappello's work led Connecticut to become the first state to pass an information law in 2009, and 35 states now have similar requirements. Depending on the state, the law could mandate that certain language or information about breast density be included in the patient's mammogram results, or require physicians to tell women about dense tissue if their breast density falls in the BI-RADS categories C and D. Other states might require that patients be given general information about breast density and advice to discuss their options with a physician. (Note: There is a chart on Cappello's website that shows what laws exist – or don't – in each state.)
Through her site and social media, she's connected with other women who've lobbied for laws in their states, including Dr. Spear, who recently testified before legislative committees in Illinois as they considered companion bills. The Illinois legislation is expected to be signed into law this summer.
"There should be no excuses," Cappello says. "Women should have this information. There should be no concealing or hiding of her status."
In the U.S., hospitals generate an estimated 6,000 tons of waste per day. A few clinics are leading the way in transitioning to clean energy sources.
She decided to research alternatives for plastic in the medical sector and learned that cups could be reused and easily disinfected. All dentists routinely disinfect their tools anyway and, Stroetzel reasoned, it wouldn’t be too hard to extend that practice to cups.
It's a good example for how often plastic is used unnecessarily in medical practice, she says. The health care sector is the fifth biggest source of pollution and trash in industrialized countries. In the U.S., hospitals generate an estimated 6,000 tons of waste per day, including an average of 400 grams of plastic per patient per day, and this sector produces 8.5 percent of greenhouse gas emissions nationwide.
“Sustainable alternatives exist,” Stroetzel says, “but you have to painstakingly look for them; they are often not offered by the big manufacturers, and all of this takes way too much time [that] medical staff simply does not have during their hectic days.”
When Stroetzel spoke with medical staff in Germany, she found they were often frustrated by all of this waste, especially as they took care to avoid single-use plastic at home. Doctors in other countries share this frustration. In a recent poll, nine out of ten doctors in Germany said they’re aware of the urgency to find sustainable solutions in the health industry but don’t know how to achieve this goal.
After a year of researching more sustainable alternatives, Stroetzel founded a social enterprise startup called POP, short for Practice Without Plastic, together with IT expert Nicolai Niethe, to offer well-researched solutions. “Sustainable alternatives exist,” she says, “but you have to painstakingly look for them; they are often not offered by the big manufacturers, and all of this takes way too much time [that] medical staff simply does not have during their hectic days.”
In addition to reusable dentist cups, other good options for the heath care sector include washable N95 face masks and gloves made from nitrile, which waste less water and energy in their production. But Stroetzel admits that truly making a medical facility more sustainable is a complex task. “This includes negotiating with manufacturers who often package medical materials in double and triple layers of extra plastic.”
While initiatives such as Stroetzel’s provide much needed information, other experts reason that a wholesale rethinking of healthcare is needed. Voluntary action won’t be enough, and government should set the right example. Kari Nadeau, a Stanford physician who has spent 30 years researching the effects of environmental pollution on the immune system, and Kenneth Kizer, the former undersecretary for health in the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, wrote in JAMA last year that the medical industry and federal agencies that provide health care should be required to measure and make public their carbon footprints. “Government health systems do not disclose these data (and very rarely do private health care organizations), unlike more than 90% of the Standard & Poor’s top 500 companies and many nongovernment entities," they explained. "This could constitute a substantial step toward better equipping health professionals to confront climate change and other planetary health problems.”
Compared to the U.K., the U.S. healthcare industry lags behind in terms of measuring and managing its carbon footprint, and hospitals are the second highest energy user of any sector in the U.S.
Kizer and Nadeau look to the U.K. National Health Service (NHS), which created a Sustainable Development Unit in 2008 and began that year to conduct assessments of the NHS’s carbon footprint. The NHS also identified its biggest culprits: Of the 2019 footprint, with emissions totaling 25 megatons of carbon dioxide equivalent, 62 percent came from the supply chain, 24 percent from the direct delivery of care, 10 percent from staff commute and patient and visitor travel, and 4 percent from private health and care services commissioned by the NHS. From 1990 to 2019, the NHS has reduced its emission of carbon dioxide equivalents by 26 percent, mostly due to the switch to renewable energy for heat and power. Meanwhile, the NHS has encouraged health clinics in the U.K. to install wind generators or photovoltaics that convert light to electricity -- relatively quick ways to decarbonize buildings in the health sector.
Compared to the U.K., the U.S. healthcare industry lags behind in terms of measuring and managing its carbon footprint, and hospitals are the second highest energy user of any sector in the U.S. “We are already seeing patients with symptoms from climate change, such as worsened respiratory symptoms from increased wildfires and poor air quality in California,” write Thomas B. Newman, a pediatrist at the University of California, San Francisco, and UCSF clinical research coordinator Daisy Valdivieso. “Because of the enormous health threat posed by climate change, health professionals should mobilize support for climate mitigation and adaptation efforts.” They believe “the most direct place to start is to approach the low-lying fruit: reducing healthcare waste and overuse.”
In addition to resulting in waste, the plastic in hospitals ultimately harms patients, who may be even more vulnerable to the effects due to their health conditions. Microplastics have been detected in most humans, and on average, a human ingests five grams of microplastic per week. Newman and Valdivieso refer to the American Board of Internal Medicine's Choosing Wisely program as one of many initiatives that identify and publicize options for “safely doing less” as a strategy to reduce unnecessary healthcare practices, and in turn, reduce cost, resource use, and ultimately reduce medical harm.
A few U.S. clinics are pioneers in transitioning to clean energy sources. In Wisconsin, the nonprofit Gundersen Health network became the first hospital to cut its reliance on petroleum by switching to locally produced green energy in 2015, and it saved $1.2 million per year in the process. Kaiser Permanente eliminated its 800,000 ton carbon footprint through energy efficiency and purchasing carbon offsets, reaching a balance between carbon emissions and removing carbon from the atmosphere in 2020, the first U.S. health system to do so.
Cleveland Clinic has pledged to join Kaiser in becoming carbon neutral by 2027. Realizing that 80 percent of its 2008 carbon emissions came from electricity consumption, the Clinic started switching to renewable energy and installing solar panels, and it has invested in researching recyclable products and packaging. The Clinic’s sustainability report outlines several strategies for producing less waste, such as reusing cases for sterilizing instruments, cutting back on materials that can’t be recycled, and putting pressure on vendors to reduce product packaging.
The Charité Berlin, Europe’s biggest university hospital, has also announced its goal to become carbon neutral. Its sustainability managers have begun to identify the biggest carbon culprits in its operations. “We’ve already reduced CO2 emissions by 21 percent since 2016,” says Simon Batt-Nauerz, the director of infrastructure and sustainability.
The hospital still emits 100,000 tons of CO2 every year, as much as a city with 10,000 residents, but it’s making progress through ride share and bicycle programs for its staff of 20,000 employees, who can get their bikes repaired for free in one of the Charité-operated bike workshops. Another program targets doctors’ and nurses’ scrubs, which cause more than 200 tons of CO2 during manufacturing and cleaning. The staff is currently testing lighter, more sustainable scrubs made from recycled cellulose that is grown regionally and requires 80 percent less land use and 30 percent less water.
The Charité hospital in Berlin still emits 100,000 tons of CO2 every year, but it’s making progress through ride share and bicycle programs for its staff of 20,000 employees.
Wiebke Peitz | Specific to Charité
Anesthesiologist Susanne Koch spearheads sustainability efforts in anesthesiology at the Charité. She says that up to a third of hospital waste comes from surgery rooms. To reduce medical waste, she recommends what she calls the 5 Rs: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, Rethink, Research. “In medicine, people don’t question the use of plastic because of safety concerns,” she says. “Nobody wants to be sued because something is reused. However, it is possible to reduce plastic and other materials safely.”
For instance, she says, typical surgery kits are single-use and contain more supplies than are actually needed, and the entire kit is routinely thrown out after the surgery. “Up to 20 percent of materials in a surgery room aren’t used but will be discarded,” Koch says. One solution could be smaller kits, she explains, and another would be to recycle the plastic. Another example is breathing tubes. “When they became scarce during the pandemic, studies showed that they can be used seven days instead of 24 hours without increased bacteria load when we change the filters regularly,” Koch says, and wonders, “What else can we reuse?”
In the Netherlands, TU Delft researchers Tim Horeman and Bart van Straten designed a method to melt down the blue polypropylene wrapping paper that keeps medical instruments sterile, so that the material can be turned it into new medical devices. Currently, more than a million kilos of the blue paper are used in Dutch hospitals every year. A growing number of Dutch hospitals are adopting this approach.
Another common practice that’s ripe for improvement is the use of a certain plastic, called PVC, in hospital equipment such as blood bags, tubes and masks. Because of its toxic components, PVC is almost never recycled in the U.S., but University of Michigan researchers Danielle Fagnani and Anne McNeil have discovered a chemical process that can break it down into material that could be incorporated back into production. This could be a step toward a circular economy “that accounts for resource inputs and emissions throughout a product’s life cycle, including extraction of raw materials, manufacturing, transport, use and reuse, and disposal,” as medical experts have proposed. “It’s a failure of humanity to have created these amazing materials which have improved our lives in many ways, but at the same time to be so shortsighted that we didn’t think about what to do with the waste,” McNeil said in a press release.
Susanne Koch puts it more succinctly: “What’s the point if we save patients while killing the planet?”
