Readify

New York State

Five Days at Memorial

New York State enters the account chiefly as a setting for the design and use of emergency rules for allocating life-sustaining medical resources. Its ventilator protocol sought to replace improvised bedside decisions with criteria prepared in advance, but the account also traces the limits of those criteria: the evidence behind them was imperfect, withdrawing treatment raised questions of consent, and planned public consultation never took place.

A plan formed for scarcity

The planning effort grew from exercises in which New York health officials considered H5N1 avian influenza and the prospect of hospitals running out of ventilators. Officials recognized that canceling elective surgery and stockpiling additional machines might ease a moderate emergency but could not meet demand in a severe pandemic. Ventilators were costly, required trained operators, and depended on oxygen supplies that might themselves be scarce. A group convened by the New York State Task Force on Life and the Law therefore developed a rationing plan intended to save as many lives as possible within an ethical framework.

The protocol was published in 2008, against the backdrop of the arrests of health professionals after Hurricane Katrina and concern that another emergency might again force providers to make life-and-death decisions without prior guidance. Planning in advance was meant to keep exhausted clinicians from having to invent allocation criteria during a crisis. The policy marked a departure from ordinary care, which generally focuses on doing everything possible to preserve each individual patient's life: under severe scarcity, some patients would not receive a ventilator.

New York's planners drew partly on a 2006 proposal from Ontario, where health officials had responded to the SARS pandemic. That proposal adapted the Sequential Organ Failure Assessment, or SOFA, a tool used in intensive care to track organ failure, to help guide decisions about access to intensive care. The New York group used the score despite important limitations: it had not been designed to predict survival and had not been validated for assessing children's health. The account presents its adoption as a response to the absence of a suitable alternative, not as proof that the measure could reliably settle every allocation decision.

Allocation criteria and their consequences

Under the New York plan, patients with the highest scores, indicating the most severe illness, could be denied access to scarce ventilators. The protocol also identified serious chronic conditions that could disqualify patients, including kidney failure, cancers that had spread and carried a poor prognosis, and severe, irreversible neurological conditions likely to be fatal. The criteria made explicit a form of medical rationing that ordinary clinical practice often leaves unspoken: a patient's need for treatment would not by itself guarantee access when demand exceeded supply.

The plan went further than deciding who would initially receive a ventilator. It set out procedures for removing patients from ventilators if they failed to improve during a trial period, potentially even without permission from their families. New York officials examined possible legal grounds for allowing a governor in an emergency to suspend a state law that barred doctors from ending life support without the express consent of patients or their authorized health agents. Thus, the protocol raised not only questions about comparative medical need, but also about who could authorize a decision to withdraw treatment and under what law.

Use during Hurricane Sandy

Years after the plan was developed, its logic moved from pandemic preparation into a hospital power emergency. As Hurricane Sandy intensified outside Bellevue Hospital, critical-care medical director Laura Evans was told that a generator in a neighboring building might keep exactly six intensive-care outlets working. Fifty-six patients might need access to those outlets. Evans had studied New York State's ventilator guidelines and voluntarily repurposed their scoring approach to help decide which patients would receive power, even though the plans had been designed for a severe respiratory pandemic rather than this situation.

Evans brought together an ad hoc committee instead of making the allocation decision alone. Its members had no patients under consideration, allowing the patients' own doctors to continue advocating for them. The committee included doctors, nurses, and ethicists, but no patient or family representatives. It communicated the decisions and their reasons to other staff; some challenged the choices, but accepted them. Within about two hours, the committee had made a list and arranged for patients to be moved between beds and the limited powered outlets. The episode showed both the practical value and the moral reach of a preexisting framework when an emergency presented a new kind of scarcity.

Transparency and the missing public review

When New York officials released the ventilator plan, they described public review as important to transparent and just guidelines. They proposed focus groups involving varied community members, including parents, older adults, people with disabilities, and communities of color. Those groups were never held, and the plans were not changed. The omission left unanswered whether the criteria reflected the values of the people whose access to care they could determine.

The account also emphasizes that the protocol's existence was not widely known: disaster-allocation plans were rarely publicized, and even many medical professionals might not know that their state or hospital had such rules. For New York State, advance planning therefore had two distinct dimensions. It could give clinicians a procedure before scarcity forced hurried choices, but a written procedure could not by itself establish that its evidence was adequate, its legal authority settled, or its judgments publicly legitimate. Bellevue's use of the guidelines during Hurricane Sandy made those unresolved questions concrete.