California Gov. Gavin Newsom wants the state to provide health coverage to low-income young adults who are in the country illegally, but his plan would siphon public health dollars from several counties battling surging rates of sexually transmitted diseases and, in some cases, measles outbreaks.
Public health officials describe the proposed reallocation of state dollars as a well-meaning initiative that nonetheless would have "dire consequences" to core public health services.
There have been 764 confirmed cases of measles this year through May 3 in 23 states, including California, the highest number since 1994, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported Monday. State public health officials also are struggling to address record rates of sexually transmitted diseases, with more than 300,000 cases of gonorrhea, chlamydia and syphilis reported in 2017.
The reallocation of state money "would exacerbate our already limited capacity to respond to outbreaks and public health emergencies," said Jeff Brown, director of Placer County's Health and Human Services Department, which has responded to three measles cases so far this year.
California already allows eligible immigrant children up to age 19 to participate in Medi-Cal, the state's Medicaid program for low-income residents, regardless of their immigration status. The current budget sets aside $365.2 million to pay for the coverage.
In his 2019-20 budget plan, Newsom proposes expanding eligibility to unauthorized young adult immigrants from age 19 through 25.
His office estimates it would cost nearly $260 million to cover them in 2019-20. While state and federal governments usually share Medicaid costs, California would have to bear the full cost of covering this population.
To help pay for it, Newsom proposes to redirect about $63 million in state funds from 39 counties, arguing they would no longer need to provide health benefits to low-income young adults covered by the state.
"As the state takes on responsibility for providing health care to undocumented adults, counties' costs and responsibilities on indigent health care are expected to decrease," Jenny Nguyen, a budget analyst at the state Department of Finance, told lawmakers at a recent legislative hearing.
Under the governor's 2019-20 budget plan, which requires legislative approval, 35 mostly small and rural counties expect to lose about $45 million in state money that funds health services for uninsured residents, including undocumented immigrants. Those counties—which participate in something called the County Medical Services Program—aren't expected to feel an immediate financial impact because the program has a budget surplus.
But four counties—Placer, Sacramento, Santa Barbara and Stanislaus—would take big and immediate hits to their public health budgets, officials say.
The amount of money the governor wants to divert from them to cover unauthorized immigrants under Medi-Cal is far more than the counties now spend on comprehensive health services for those immigrants, local health officials said.
"The idea that these dollars would be offset is just not accurate," said Mary Ann Lee, managing director of Stanislaus County Health Services Agency, who described the governor's budget proposal as "alarming."
For example, Stanislaus County estimates it would lose $2.5 million under the governor's budget plan. When officials studied the population served by their health centers, they found only 18 individuals were young adults who might not have legal immigration status. The total cost to provide care to them: just $1,700 a year.
Sacramento County, which reported a 300% increase in syphilis cases in the past four years, would have to shutter its newly opened STD clinic if the county loses an estimated $7.5 million in state funding, Dr. Peter Beilenson, the county Health Services Director, told lawmakers.
And while Sacramento County provides primary health care to an estimated 4,000 undocumented immigrant adults, just 100 are ages 19 to 25, and they are the least expensive to cover, Beilenson said.
"We agree with the idea behind this, increasing coverage for [those who are] undocumented," Beilenson said. But losing those funds would force the county to close its STD clinic and terminate some communicable disease investigators "at a time when we now have measles cases in the region and we don't want to be shutting those services down."
The 40 confirmed cases of measles reported in California as of May 1 include three in Sacramento County.
As a result of the reduced funding, Sacramento County also would have to slash health services to its unauthorized immigrant residents—the very people Newsom aims to help—by an estimated 75%, Beilenson added.
Whether lawmakers will approve the governor's proposal is unclear.
Several already have expressed concern, including state Assemblywoman Eloise Reyes (D-Grand Terrace), who said, "I think it is clear that this would be terrible for those counties."
Officials with the Department of Finance told lawmakers at the hearing that they were aware of counties' concerns but that the "governor's budget stands as it is."
The governor is scheduled to release a revised budget proposal by May 14, before the legislature votes on it this summer.
"I hope there will be some reconsideration," said state Sen. Richard Pan (D-Sacramento), chairman of the Senate Health Committee. "There's a disconnect there."
An analysis of insurance claims from more than 350 commercial carriers found that plastic and maxillofacial surgeons billed out-of-network more frequently than any other type of specialist in an inpatient setting.
This article was first published on Monday, May 6, 2019 inKaiser Health News.
Bob Ensor didn't see the boom swinging violently toward him as he cleaned a sailboat in dry dock on a spring day two years ago. But he heard the crack as it hit him in the face.
He was transported by ambulance to an in-network hospital near his home in Middletown, N.J., where initial X-rays showed his nose was broken as were several bones of his left eye socket. The emergency physician summoned the on-call plastic surgeon, who admitted him to the hospital and scheduled him for surgery the next day.
Shortly before surgery, the doctor introduced Ensor to a second plastic surgeon who would assist in the 90-minute procedure. Entering through Ensor's nose, the physicians realigned his facial bones, temporarily sewing Ensor's left eye shut so that the lids would stay in place as the bones knitted back together.
Six weeks later, as Ensor, then 65, continued to make an uneventful recovery, a collection agency called to inquire how he and his wife planned to pay the $71,729 bill for the assistant surgeon. Ensor's company health plan had denied payment because the surgeon wasn't part of its contracted physician network.
There was more bad news. Ensor received notice that the health plan wouldn't cover the $95,885 charged by the first plastic surgeon either because he also was out-of-network.
"The hospital knew these doctors were out-of-network and didn't bother to tell us," said his wife, Linda Ensor, noting they faced more than $167,000 in charges. "We were panicked."
Riverview Medical Center in Red Bank, N.J., where Ensor was treated, said that it "empathizes with patients who are trying to navigate the complexity of the healthcare billing system" and that transparency in billing has not always been optimal for emergency department patients
As surprise out-of-network billing becomes a politically charged issue, Americans want the federal government to take action. In an April survey, more than three-quarters of consumers said the government should protect them from such bills, according to the Kaiser Family Foundation's monthly health tracking poll. (KHN is an editorially independent program of the foundation.)
An analysis of insurance claims from more than 350 commercial carriers found that plastic and maxillofacial surgeons billed out-of-network more frequently than any other type of specialist in an inpatient setting. Examining hospital admissions in 2016, researchers at Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health found that plastic and maxillofacial surgeons billed their services out-of-network 23% of the time, more than any of the other 50 specialties analyzed.
That leaves patients like Ensor, whose care requires plastic or maxillofacial surgery, extremely vulnerable. It also catches patients off guard: When a parent brings in a child with a cut and a triage nurse asks if they'd prefer a plastic surgeon, many reflexively answer "yes" not understanding whether there is an actual need nor anticipating the charges.
According to one survey of emergency department directors at more than 440 hospitals, 81% reported they had inadequate plastic surgery coverage, a higher percentage than reported shortages of any other type of surgical specialty.
The reasons these specialists are such frequent out-of-network billers are fairly straightforward.
Many plastic surgeons don't participate in health plans because they have flexibility other physicians may not have — their practices often focus on elective cosmetic procedures like nose reshaping and breast augmentation that patients pay for on their own.
Also, general surgeons and heart surgeons generally want to maintain good relations with the hospitals — and be on call for the ER— since the ER is a source of patient referrals and their patients often require inpatient care. In contrast, plastic surgeons often operate at outpatient centers.
"Fortunately for some plastic surgeons with alternative revenue streams, they don't need to participate with insurance companies," said Dr. Gregory Greco, the board vice president for health policy and advocacy of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, who has a solo practice in New Jersey and Manhattan. Greco participates in the employee plans at the institutions where he has hospital privileges, but he doesn't accept other insurance plans.
The society did not respond to a request for information regarding the percentage of plastic surgeons who participate in insurance networks.
That can spell trouble in emergency care. Under the federal Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act (EMTALA), hospital emergency departments are required to screen and stabilize any patient who walks through the door, whether or not they can afford to pay. Hospitals often rely on a roster of on-call specialists to treat emergency patients, but studies show many specialists are reluctant to be on call, and low rates of insurance reimbursements may play a role in those decisions.
Data from a New York state program to arbitrate surprise medical bills — a 2015 state law holds patients harmless for such charges — highlights the scope of the problem with plastic surgery coverage.
Emergency care involving out-of-network plastic surgery services was by far the most common type of bill reviewed, according to figures from the state Department of Financial Services. By late 2018, there had been 543 decisions regarding such bills, compared with 335 for emergency physician care and 263 for orthopedists.
In New York, the surprise billing law has discouraged plastic surgeons from charging extremely high fees for out-of-network work, said Dr. Andrew Kleinman, a plastic surgeon in suburban New York City who is a former president of the Medical Society of the State of New York. Under the program, which uses a process called "baseball arbitration," the insurer and provider each submits a proposed dollar amount and the arbitrator picks one.
"Baseball arbitration gives the physician an incentive not to bill an outrageous rate because they're going to lose," Kleinman said. If a doctor charges $20,000 for services provided, but the insurer offers $500, "the insurer will win every time," he said.
More than two dozen states have passed laws that address surprise bills to some extent — although they do not protect the many patients covered by plans regulated by national rules. Congress is debating measures that would address surprise bills at the national level.
In the meantime, patients remain vulnerable. Dr. Meghan Candee was visiting family in Riverhead, N.Y., last summer when her daughter, who was 4 at the time, fell against a wooden bench and got a small cut underneath her left eyebrow. Candee, a pediatric neurologist in Salt Lake City, took her to the emergency department nearby, where she opted for a plastic surgeon, who put in a single stitch, without any sedation.
Candee paid the $100 copayment for the emergency department visit and took the stitch out herself five days later.
A few weeks later, Candee's insurer sent a $25,175 check to pass on to the out-of-network plastic surgeon, who had charged that amount for his work.
Assuming there was an error, Candee called the plastic surgeon's billing office but was told the amount was correct. Even though she wasn't herself on the hook, Candee was "outraged."
"This is why people have issues with physicians, and they think most of us are out there trying to get money," she said.
In New York, the average out-of-network charge at a hospital or other setting for an injury like Candee's daughter's — a simple repair of a superficial wound on the face that is 2.5 centimeters or less in length — is $438.01, according toFAIR Health, a national, independent nonprofit organization that collects and manages an extensive database of insurance claims. In the Great Neck/Port Washington area of Long Island, the area with the highest charges for that repair nationwide, the average charge is $1,067.25.
Patients should know that a plastic surgeon may not be covered in-network and is not necessary in many cases. "It's not uncommon for a family to say they would like a plastic surgeon," said Dr. William Jaquis, president-elect of the American College of Emergency Physicians. "But, in the vast majority of cases, a well-trained emergency physician can do most of the repairs." A plastic surgeon makes sense when there's extensive, deep-tissue damage and the skin is not cleanly torn, especially on the face, he said. A dog bite or an eye socket injury like Ensor's is a classic example.
Luckily for the Ensors, the sailing club stepped in to take up his case with the out-of-network plastic surgeons. Since sailing club members were required to volunteer on work projects to keep membership costs in check, the club's insurer agreed to cover the accident as a workers' compensation case. It paid 100% of the outstanding bill.
The Food and Drug Administration announced it is shutting down its controversial "alternative summary reporting" program and ending its decades-long practice of allowing medical device makers to conceal millions of reports of harm and malfunctions from the general public.
The agency said it will open past records to the public within weeks.
A Kaiser Health News investigation in March revealed that the obscure program was vast, collecting 1.1 million reports since 2016. The program, which began about 20 years ago, was so little-known that forensic medical device experts and even a recent FDA commissioner were unaware of its existence.
Former FDA official Dr. S. Lori Brown said ending the program now is a "victory for patients and consumers."
"The No. 1 job of the FDA — it shouldn't be 'buyer beware' — is to have the information available to people so they can have information about the devices they are going to put in their body," Brown said.
FDA principal deputy commissioner Dr. Amy Abernethy and its device center director, Dr. Jeff Shuren, announced the decision to terminate the program in a statement on increasing transparency about the safety of breast implants.
The agency has for years allowed makers of breast implants to report hundreds of thousands of injuries and malfunctions out of the public eye, federal records show.
"We believe these steps for more transparent medical device reports will contribute to greater public awareness of breast implant adverse events," Abernethy and Shuren said in a statement. "This is part of a larger effort to end the alternative summary reporting program for all medical devices."
FDA spokeswoman Angela Stark said the agency will also end "alternative summary reporting" exemptions still in place for makers of implantable cardiac defibrillators, pacemakers and tooth implants. The FDA has said the program was originally designed to allow for more efficient internal review of well-known risks.
The agency said it began winding down the program in mid-2017, revoking many reporting exemptions, including those for saline breast implants and for balloon pumps used inside patients' blood vessels.
At that point, the agency required device makers with ongoing exemptions to file quarterly reports in its public device-harm database known as MAUDE, short for the Manufacturer and User Facility Device Experience.
Still, FDA data provided to KHN shows that during the first nine months of 2018 the FDA continued to accept more than 190,000 injury reports and 45,000 malfunction reports under the hidden "alternative summary reporting" program.
Ronni Solomon, vice president and chief policy officer of the ECRI Institute, which studies device safety, said the staff uses the FDA's open data on a daily basis to look for signals that might show heightened risks with a particular device.
"We think it's really vital for the sake of transparency, for the sake of policy, for sake of science," she said. "We're really glad to see this, the sooner the better."
The agency said its forthcoming data release will be for the alternative summary reports filed before mid-2017. The FDA for years reached agreements with makers of about 100 devices, allowing them to cease public reports of certain types of problems. The agency previously said the agreements and resulting records were available only by filing a Freedom of Information Act request, a process that can take months or even years.
Going forward, device makers will be required to file individual reports describing each case of patient harm related to a medical device.
The FDA has not said it will stop allowing device makers to file other types of device-harm exemption reports that are withheld from the public, such as when there is mass litigation over a device or when a company is submitting reports from an independent device-tracking registry. Nor has a plan been announced to open those records, which contain reports of harm related to pelvic mesh and surgical robots and reports of deaths related to several cardiac devices.
The FDA had granted Covidien, now a division of Medtronic, a long-standing "alternative summary reporting" exemption for its surgical staplers, a device used to cut tissues and vessels and quickly seal them during a variety of surgeries.
In 2016, when just 84 reports of stapler-related harm were disclosed in the FDA's MAUDE database, almost 10,000 more malfunction reports were sent directly to the FDA's in-house database, the agency acknowledged.
The device has been subject to numerous lawsuits over patient deaths and grave harm.
Doris Levering alleged in court that a stapler malfunction during liver surgery caused profuse bleeding that left her husband, Mark, 62, with serious brain damage and unable to walk. She applauded the agency's decision to open the database. "It's just wonderful to know that this information is going to be out in the open and not covered up," she said. "Now doctors who need to find the information will be able to find it."
The surgeon, hospital and device maker have all denied wrongdoing in an ongoing legal case.
The FDA has announced a May 30 advisory board meeting to review the agency's oversight of surgical staplers.
The FDA will leave in place a newer summary-reporting program that allows makers of more than 5,500 types of devices to send the agency spreadsheets logging device malfunctions. Unlike the "alternative summary reporting" program, device makers will not be allowed to report serious injuries using that approach.
Over the years, the FDA has had an uneven record of disclosing its "exemption" reports to advisers who review the safety of individual devices.
In February, FDA officials presented an advisory panel on gynecological devices with data showing 476 adverse events in 2017 related to a certain type of pelvic mesh. That panel was not briefed on nearly 12,000 reports filed by eight mesh makers in 2017, under a special exemption for lawsuit-related reports, according to an agency spokeswoman and a review of public records.
FDA spokeswoman Deborah Kotz said in an email that those "litigation" summary reports did not contain enough detail for the FDA to determine whether they shed any light on the safety question at hand.
The FDA ultimately took decisive action, though, ordering makers of the type of mesh under review to stop marketing those products, which were used to support sagging pelvic organs.
In late March, after KHN's investigation landed, the FDA convened another panel to review breast implant-related injuries and a rare form of lymphoma. For that meeting, the agency did provide a full tally of previously unreported injury and malfunction reports related to breast implants.
As of Thursday, though, the agency said it would leave the textured breast implants linked to a rare lymphoma on the market.
Matt Baretich, a Denver-area biomedical engineer who advises health systems on device safety, is eager to examine the hidden reports as they're released by the FDA.
"I'm really interested to see what information has been hidden so I can go back," Baretich said. "I may have been looking for that information and not found anything and thought there was not a problem."
Most downgraded homes had payroll records that showed no RN hours at all for four days or more. The remainder failed to submit payroll records or sent data that couldn't be verified.
This article was first published on Friday, May 3, 2019, in Kaiser Health News.
The federal government accelerated its crackdown on nursing homes that go days without a registered nurse by downgrading the rankings of a tenth of the nation's homes on Medicare's consumer website, new records show.
In its update in April to Nursing Home Compare, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services gave its lowest star rating for staffing — one star on its five-star scale — to 1,638 homes.
Most were downgraded because their payroll records reported no registered-nurse hours at all for four days or more, while the remainder failed to submit their payroll records or sent data that couldn't be verified through an audit.
"Once you're past four days [without registered nursing], it's probably beyond calling in sick," said David Grabowski, a health policy professor at Harvard Medical School. "It's probably a systemic problem."
It was a tougher standard than Medicare had previously applied, when it demoted nursing homes with seven or more days without a registered nurse.
"Nurse staffing has the greatest impact on the quality of care nursing homes deliver, which is why CMS analyzed the relationship between staffing levels and outcomes," the agency announced in March. "CMS found that as staffing levels increase, quality increases."
The latest batch of payroll records, released in April, shows that even more nursing homes fell short of Medicare's requirement that a registered nurse be on-site at least eight hours every day. Over the final three months of 2018, 2,633 of the nation's 15,563 nursing homes reported that for four or more days, registered nurses worked fewer than eight hours, according to a Kaiser Health News analysis. Those facilities did not meet Medicare's requirement even after counting nurses whose jobs are primarily administrative.
CMS has been alarmed at the frequency of understaffing of registered nurses — the most highly trained category of nurses in a home — since the government last year began requiring homes to submit payroll records to verify staffing levels. Before that, Nursing Home Compare relied on two-week snapshots nursing homes reported to health inspectors when they visited — a method officials worried was too easy to manipulate. The records show staffing on weekends is often particularly anemic.
CMS' demotion of ratings on staffing is not as severe as it might seem, however. More than half of those homes were given a higher rating than one star for their overall assessment after CMS weighed inspection results and the facilities' own measurement of residents' health improvements.
That overall rating is the one that garners the most attention on Nursing Home Compare and that some hospitals use when recommending where discharged patients might go. Of the 1,638 demoted nursing homes, 277 were rated as average in overall quality (three stars), 175 received four stars, and 48 received the top rating of five stars.
Still, CMS' overall changes to how the government assigns stars drew protests from nursing home groups. The American Healthcare Association, a trade group for nursing homes,calculated that 36% of homes saw a drop in their ratings while 15% received improved ratings.
"By moving the scoring 'goal posts' for two components of the Five-Star system," the association wrote, "CMS will cause more than 30 percent of nursing centers nationwide to lose one or more stars overnight — even though nothing changed in staffing levels and in quality of care, which is still being practiced and delivered every day."
The association said in an email that the payroll records might exaggerate the absence of staff through unintentional omissions that homes make when submitting the data or because of problems on the government's end. The association said it had raised concerns that salaried nurses face obstacles in recording time they worked above 40 hours a week. Also, the association added, homes must deduct a half-hour for every eight-hour shift for a meal break, even if the nurse worked through it.
"Some of our member nursing homes have told us that their data is not showing up correctly on Nursing Home Compare, making it appear that they do not have the nurses and other staff that they in fact do have on duty," LeadingAge, an association of nonprofit medical providers including nursing homes, said last year.
Kaiser Health News has updated its interactive nursing home staffing tool with the latest data. You can use the tool to see the rating Medicare assigns to each facility for its registered nurse staffing and overall staffing levels. The tool also shows KHN-calculated ratios of patients to direct-care nurses and aides on the best- and worst-staffed days.
Like millions of people who are sick or old and the families who care for them, many physicians are disheartened by the healthcare system's complexity and its all-too-frequent absence of compassion.
This article was first published on Thursday, May 2, 2019 inKaiser Health News.
Dr. Hasan Shanawani was overcome by frustration. So, last week he picked up his cellphone and began sharing on Twitter his family's enraging experiences with the U.S. healthcare system.
It was an act of defiance — and desperation. Like millions of people who are sick or old and the families who care for them, this physician was disheartened by the healthcare system's complexity and its all-too-frequent absence of caring and compassion.
Shanawani, a high-ranking physician at the Department of Veterans Affairs, had learned the day before that his 83-year-old father, also a physician, was hospitalized in New Jersey with a spinal fracture. But instead of being admitted as an inpatient, his dad was classified as an "observation care" patient — an outpatient status that Shanawani knew could have unfavorable consequences, both medically and financially.
On the phone with a hospital care coordinator, Shanawani pressed for an explanation. Why was his dad, who had metastatic stage 4 prostate cancer and an unstable spine, not considered eligible for a hospital admission? Why had an emergency room doctor told the family the night before that his father met admission criteria?
Sidestepping Shanawani's questions, the care coordinator didn't provide answers. Later, another senior nurse in the hospital unit didn't respond when he asked her to find out what was going on.
Within hours, Shanawani's posts were widely shared and other people, some of them also doctors, recounted similar experiences. Within days, he had thousands of followers, up from fewer than 100 before his tirade.
Physicians wrote that Shanawani's posts about observation care opened their eyes to the adverse impact it can have on patients and families. (When someone is in observation care, he or she can face copayments for individual tests and medical services under Medicare Part B — expenses that can quickly add up. Also, Medicare will not pay for short-term rehabilitation in a skilled nursing facility for observation care patients.)
Shanawani's distress revolved around three key issues, he explained in a lengthy conversation.
Hospital staff didn't acknowledge his family's concerns or address them adequately: How can an old man with terminal prostate cancer and a broken back be sent home without measures to ensure his safety?
No one seemed to care or be willing to listen: When family members asked that lower doses of painkillers be administered to Shanawani's father, who had become delirious during previous hospitalizations, they felt nurses were disapproving and disrespectful.
And the decision to put his father in observation care was misguided and handled curtly.
There were two options for his father, the physician said: vertebroplasty, a surgery in which a bone cement is injected into the spine, or a fitted spinal brace. Shanawani's father and the family decided against surgery but was told that he couldn't receive a brace in the hospital because that option was available only to inpatients. Outside the hospital, it would take time to arrange an appointment with a spine specialist and get a brace. In the meantime, with an unstable spine, "my father was at risk of permanent paralysis," Shanawani told me.
Because Shanawani has declined to identify the hospital in question, indicating only that it placed highly in U.S. News and World Report's rankings and was based in New Jersey, the institution's perspective on these issues cannot be shared. It is possible that the hospital's explanations would cast the physician's story in a different light.
But Shanawani's experiences are, by all accounts, widespread. "I wish I could say that this was in any way unique or an isolated event," said Dr. Richard Levin, chief executive of the Arnold P. Gold Foundation, which focuses on humanism in healthcare, who reviewed the physician's Twitter stream. "But his description of a broken system is so common."
Theresa Edelstein, vice president of post-acute care policy and special initiatives at the New Jersey Hospital Association, acknowledged that "we need to focus on and be better at" attending to the "humaneness and patient-centeredness of care." She made it clear this was a general comment, not a response to the situation Shanawani had described.
"If a patient is expressing concern about their observation status, the whole [hospital] team should be involved in understanding what the concerns of the patient and the family are," Edelstein said.
Currently, patients with Medicare coverage cannot appeal a hospital's decision to place them in observation care. The Center for Medicare Advocacy and Justice in Aging have filed a class-action suit in U.S. District Court in Connecticut seeking to establish such an appeal right. After years of litigation, a trial date has been set for mid-August, according to Alice Bers, the lead lawyer for the plaintiffs and litigation director at the Center for Medicare Advocacy.
But all patients have the right to a safe discharge under a separate set of regulatory requirements, and that can be grounds for an expedited appeal, Edelstein noted.
Ultimately, a physical therapist made it possible for Shanawani's father to be admitted to the hospital once he failed a test she administered. And a palliative care nurse gave the family the sense of being cared for, which they so desperately needed. "She was a 'one-in-a-million' person," said Shanawani, weeping as he spoke of her. "She said 'We will fix this, we will figure this out with you, we're working on the same side of the table.'"
"It takes just one person to really listen to make a profound difference in a patient's care," said Grace Cordovano, a professional patient advocate at Enlightening Results LLC in West Caldwell, N.J.
Social media outlets such as Twitter and Facebook are a powerful new avenue for people to seek redress for healthcare grievances, Cordovano noted. "If you tag a facility, a customer service representative typically responds quickly with 'Please message me. We're sorry you're experiencing this, we'd like to help.' Often, you get a better response than by going through the normal chain of command."
Shanawani's position — he's deputy chief informatics officer for quality and safety at the VA — helped generate a high-level response to his tweets. New Jersey's commissioner of health, Dr. Shereef Elnahal, a former colleague of his, reached out to the hospital's leadership, and meetings with the CEOs of the hospital and its parent system followed. Also, the U.S. Senate Committee on Health, Education, Labor & Pensions has asked Shanawani for his input.
"I have incredible privilege, and I know how to navigate bureaucracies," the physician told me. "But still, hospital staff provided us no guidance, no assurance, no knowledge, until two people willing to help came along. I don't know how to fix this."
For now, this physician has other things on his mind: On April 30, his father took a turn for the worse and was rehospitalized. Shanawani knew this was likely at some point, but he had hoped it wouldn't be so soon. "It starts all over again," he wrote to me in an email.
We're eager to hear from readers about questions you'd like answered, problems you've been having with your care and advice you need in dealing with the healthcare system. Visit khn.org/columnists to submit your requests or tips.
For decades, the American medical establishment has known how to manage diabetes. Yet across the country, surgeons still perform tens of thousands of diabetic amputations each year.
This article first appeared on Wednesday, May 1, 2019 in Kaiser Health News.
LOS ANGELES — On his regular rounds at the University of Southern California's Keck Hospital, Dr. David Armstrong lives a brutal injustice of American healthcare.
Each week, dozens of patients with diabetes come to him with deep wounds, severe infections and poor circulation — debilitating complications of a disease that has spiraled out of control. He works to save their limbs, but sometimes Armstrong and his team must resort to amputation to save the patient, a painful and life-altering measure he knows is nearly always preventable.
For decades now, the American medical establishment has known how to manage diabetes. Even as the number of people living with the illness continues to climb — today, estimated at more than 30 million nationwide — the prognosis for those with access to good health care has become far less dire. With the right medication, diet and lifestyle changes, patients can learn to manage their diabetes and lead robust lives.
Yet across the country, surgeons still perform tens of thousands of diabetic amputations each year. It's a drastic procedure that stands as a powerful example of the consequences of being poor, uninsured and cut off from a routine system of quality health care.
"Amputations are an unnecessary consequence of this devastating disease," said Armstrong, professor of surgery at Keck School of Medicine of USC. "It's an epidemic within an epidemic. And it's a problem that's totally ignored."
In California, where doctors performed more than 82,000 diabetic amputations from 2011 to 2017, people who were black or Latino were more than twice as likely as non-Hispanic whites to undergo amputations related to diabetes, a Kaiser Health News analysis found.
The pattern is not unique to California. Across the country, studies have shown that diabetic amputations vary significantly not just by race and ethnicity but also by income and geography. Diabetic patients living in communities that rank in the nation's bottom quartile by income were nearly 39% more likely to undergo major amputations compared with people living in the highest-income communities, according to one 2015 study.
A 2014 study by UCLA researchers found that people with diabetes in poorer neighborhoods in Los Angeles County were twice as likely to have a foot or leg amputated than those in wealthier areas. The difference was more than tenfold in some parts of the county.
Amputations are considered a "mega-disparity" and dwarf nearly every other health disparity by race and ethnicity, said Dr. Dean Schillinger, a medical professor at the University of California-San Francisco. To begin with, people who are black or Latino are more at risk of diabetes than other groups — a disparity often attributed to socioeconomic factors such as higher rates of poverty and lower levels of education. They also may live in environments with less access to healthy food or places to exercise.
Then, among those with the disease, blacks and Latinos often get diagnosed after the disease has taken hold and have more complications, such as amputations. "If you go into low-income African American neighborhoods, it is a war zone," said Schillinger, former chief of the Diabetes Prevention and Control Program at the California Department of Public Health. "You see people wheeling themselves around in wheelchairs."
Part of the outrage for researchers is that medical science has made so much headway in diabetes treatment. Nationwide, fewer than 5 adults out of every 1,000 with diabetes get amputations.
But for those who do, the consequences are profound. More than half of amputations in California from 2011 to 2017 occurred among people ages 45 to 64, according to the KHN analysis, meaning many people are left disabled and dependent on others for care during their prime working years.
From Mother To Son
Jackson Moss leaned back on his couch and raised his right leg. His wife, Bernadette, sprayed antiseptic on a gaping wound on the sole of his foot before dabbing it with Vaseline and rewrapping it with gauze.
A stocky man who used to deliver poultry, Moss, 47, said he had to stop working after his left leg was amputated below the knee about 10 years ago. Later, he lost part of his right foot. With Bernadette's help, he is trying to save the rest of it.
"If I didn't have my wife, I don't know where I'd be," said Moss, who wears a prosthesis on his left leg and uses a wheelchair. "I can't get around good like I used to."
Moss, who lives in Compton, embodies many of the characteristics of people most likely to get diabetic amputations. He is African American with a relatively low family income: about $30,000 a year from his Social Security disability check and his wife's job with the county mental health department.
Moss has not always received regular medical care. His mother, who also had a leg amputated from diabetes, would take him to the doctor when he was a boy. But he stopped going as an adult. He didn't have insurance during much of his 20s and 30s. Medical care just wasn't a priority, he said, until about 25 years ago when his blood sugar shot up so high he passed out at home.
After he was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, he started seeing a physician more often. He tried to avoid sugar, as his doctor recommended, but bad habits die hard. "It takes a lot to eat right," he said, "and it costs more."
One day, about 10 years ago, he bumped his toe on the bed. He thought little of it until he developed an infected wound. A fever sent him to the hospital, where his lower leg was removed. A few years later, with his diabetes still poorly controlled, he lost the toes on his other foot.
In recent years, Moss and his wife said, health providers have sometimes ignored their concerns. They recalled trips to the emergency room when they had to convince doctors his fever came from a diabetes-related infection. "They wouldn't take my word," he said. The couple did not see it as discrimination, more like dismissiveness.
Now, Moss goes to a clinic run by Martin Luther King, Jr. Community Hospital, which serves a large Latino and black population in South Los Angeles. On a recent visit, his doctor asked if he was staying off the foot with the wound. "I just get up when I have to go to the restroom and to get in and out of the bed," Moss responded.
Moss hopes someday he will be able to do more — get back to taking his grandsons to Chuck E. Cheese or playing dominoes with friends.
"I just sit here all day long," he said.
'The Most Shameful Metric'
Amputations typically start with poorly controlled diabetes, a disease characterized by excess sugar in the blood. Untreated, it can lead to serious complications such as kidney failure and blindness.
People with diabetes often have reduced sensation in their feet, as well as poor circulation. As many as one-third of people with the most common form — Type 2 — develop foot ulcers or a break in the skin that can become infected.
Amputations occur after those infections rage out of control and enter the bloodstream or seep deeper into the tissue. People with diabetes often have a condition that makes it harder for blood to circulate and wounds to heal.
The circumstances that give rise to amputations are complex and often intertwined: Patients may avoid doctors because their family and friends do, or clinics are too far away. Some may delay medical visits because they don't trust doctors or have limited insurance. Even when they seek treatment, some find it difficult to take medication as directed, adhere to dietary restrictions or stay off an infected foot.
Californians with diabetes who have a regular place to go for health care other than the emergency room are less likely to get amputations, according to an analysis conducted for Kaiser Health News by the UCLA Center for Health Policy Research. If they have a plan to control their diabetes, they also have less chance of amputation.
The analysis shows that many amputations could be avoided with better access to care and better disease management, said Ninez Ponce, director of the center.
"It's the most shameful metric we have on quality of care," Ponce said. "It is a health equity issue. We are a very rich state. We shouldn't be seeing these diabetic amputations."
An amputation often leads to a cascade of setbacks: more infections, more amputations, decreased mobility, social isolation. Research shows as many as three-quarters of people with diabetes who have had lower-limb amputations die within five years.
The health system bears surprisingly large costs for what remains a relatively uncommon problem. A single lower-limb amputation can cost more than $100,000. By far, government programs — Medicaid and Medicare — pay for the most amputations.
Experts say the best bet is to intervene well before they become necessary. People with diabetes are "very much in need of the simplest, basic, cost-effective, easy-to-implement treatments," said Dr. Philip Goodney, director of the Center for the Evaluation of Surgical Care at Dartmouth.
Along with basic measures to control diabetes, regular foot exams are key. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates somewhere between 11% and 28% of people with diabetes get the recommended podiatric care, a yearly foot exam to check for loss of sensation and blood flow. Under federal rules governing Medicaid, the government program for low-income Americans, such care is optional and not covered by every state.
California includes it as an optional benefit, limiting access to such care. An analysisby UCLA researchers estimated that the use of preventive podiatric services saved the Medi-Cal system — California's version of Medicaid — up to $97 million in 2014, based on avoided hospital admissions and amputations, and that savings could be much greater if more patients had access.
Fighting For Jesse
Jesse Guerrero is 12, but already knows what diabetes — and amputations — can do to a family. He has seen how life changed since his mom, Patricia Zamora, had her first surgery. She had to stop working as a group home supervisor. They were evicted and eventually moved into his grandmother's house in Pomona.
Now, they stay home a lot more than they used to. "I want her to get better so we can finally go places," Jesse said.
First diagnosed with gestational diabetes, Zamora, 49, eventually was diagnosed with conventional Type 2. Though her mother has diabetes, she said, she didn't understand the risks.
Her serious troubles started in 2014, when she stubbed her big toe and it turned black and purple. When she finally went to an ER, doctors said it had to be amputated. The next year, after another stumble and another infection, doctors removed the remaining toes on her right foot.
Now, she is fighting a third wound and risks losing the limb below her knee. She uses a scooter and wears a boot to keep the pressure off.
Many days, she wants to give up.
"But I can't," she said. "I have Jesse."
His health is also a concern. Though only in middle school, Jesse is overweight, putting him at greater risk for Type 2 diabetes. She recently took away his PlayStation and signed him up for flag football so he would be more active.
Jesse, too, is scared.
"I don't want to get my foot cut off," he said. "I'd rather have a full life than a short one."
The Gift Of Pain
As hospitals have seen the impacts — and cost — of amputations, some have made efforts to reduce them. Some, like Keck Hospital, have started limb preservation centers, which use cross-disciplinary teams and technology to treat wounds and help patients improve disease management.
Even with a team of specialists, however, saving a limb often depends on patients coming in early rather than waiting until their foot has become dangerously infected. But because their sensation is dulled, they often don't appreciate the danger.
"How do you get someone to come in if they don't have pain?" Armstrong said. "They need the gift of pain."
One of Armstrong's patients, Cirilo Delgado, has a wound on his heel that could cost him his lower leg. He already lost a toe.
Delgado, 41, knew diabetes ran in his family. His father, 68, has diabetes. His mother, who had diabetes and kidney failure, died at 67. His diabetic sister died at 35 of a heart attack, a possible complication of diabetes.
"I saw them die young," he said. "I don't want to be the next one."
Like Moss, Delgado didn't always have insurance. And he didn't seek care for his diabetes until the symptoms got dire.
Delgado used to work at a dry cleaning shop but had to stop because he doesn't have the balance he once did. His blood pressure fluctuates dangerously, and he needs dialysis three times a week for kidney failure. He has moved in with his father, a truck driver who stopped working to help care for him.
In November, doctors used a skin flap from his leg to try to heal his latest wound. He's praying he doesn't get another.
"I know there's a prosthesis," he said, "but it's not the same as a limb."
METHODOLOGY BOX:
Kaiser Health News analyzed 2011-17 data from California's Office of Statewide Health Planning and Development (OSHPD) on diabetes patients discharged after lower-limb amputations. OSPHD grouped the amputations into these racial and ethnic categories: white, black, Hispanic and other; and these age groups: under 45, 45-64, 65 and over. To compare amputation rates across groups, KHN calculated crude rates using California population data for each year from the U.S. Census Bureau, and calculated the final age-adjusted rate for each racial/ethnic group using U.S. 2010 population distribution as weights.
California Healthline ethnic media editor Ngoc Nguyen and Kaiser Health News data editor Elizabeth Lucas contributed to this report.
The hearing was a swap House Speaker Nancy Pelosi made to left-leaning members of her caucus when she courted them to support her candidacy for speaker.
This article was first published on Tuesday, April 20, 2019 in Kaiser Health News.
The first congressional hearing on a "Medicare-for-all" bill in at least a decade took place Tuesday, but without the usual phalanx of T-shirted supporters — or even the presidential candidates — who have been pushing the bill.
That's because the hearing took place not at one of three major committees that oversee health policy in the House, but in the ornate — and comparatively miniature — hearing room of the House Rules Committee.
That panel's primary role is to set the terms for House floor debates, and its hearing room can seat about 50 people in the audience, compared with hundreds in the larger rooms of the Capitol complex's office buildings. Also, members of the public cannot easily access the room on the third floor of the Capitol as they can the House office buildings across the street.
That arrangement was no accident — the Rules Committee is often called the "Speaker's Committee" because it is so closely aligned with the speaker's goals and is more heavily populated with members of the majority party than the usual committee breakdowns. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi has said repeatedly she does not want to push Medicare-for-all — a plan popular among progressive Democrats to move the country to government health care system — while Republicans control the Senate and the White House.
So, this hearing was the fulfillment of a promise she made to some of the more left-leaning members of her caucus when she courted them to support her candidacy for speaker. Another hearing, this one by the House Budget Committee — also not among the committees that would normally handle major health legislation, is expected to follow soon.
Those usual panels — Ways and Means, Energy and Commerce, and Education and Labor — are busy working on health legislation, including bills to address prescription drug prices and "surprise" medical bills, but not currently on a Medicare-for-all bill.
Rep. Michael Burgess (R-Texas) pointed out that anomaly. "I don't want to say this hearing isn't normal, but normally, health care policy would come … through the authorizing committees," he said in a gibe to the House Democratic leadership. Burgess is also a member of one of those committees: Energy and Commerce.
Pelosi did make a cameo at the Rules hearing, escorting activist Ady Barkan, who has the neurodegenerative disease amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS, and was the star witness for the proponents of Medicare-for-all. Barkan, an outspoken critic of Republicans' efforts to repeal and replace the Affordable Care Act in 2017, testified Tuesday by computer-generated voice, since his disease has progressed to the point he can no longer speak easily.
Still, despite the unusual venue, backers of universal health care hope the hearing marks the beginning of a journey to a new national health system.
"This is a historic moment," Rules Chairman Jim McGovern (D-Mass.) said, surveying the standing-room-only crowd. "I don't think we can squeeze anyone else in here." McGovern said he is a strong supporter of the Medicare-for-all bill introduced by Reps. Pramila Jayapal (D-Calif.) and Debbie Dingell (D-Mich.), which has more than 100 co-sponsors.
For all the political machinations and sometimes overheated rhetoric about a major overhaul of the U.S. health system, the hearing itself was remarkably unremarkable — with witnesses both for and against the idea of the federal government providing health coverage to all Americans calmly discussing the pros and cons.
"The ugly truth is this: Healthcare is not treated as a human right in the United States of America," Barkan told the committee. "This fact is outrageous. And it is far past time that we change it."
Republicans were also eager to talk about Medicare-for-all — so they could bash it.
"This bill is an extraordinary bill," said Rep. Tom Cole (R-Okla.), the panel's ranking member. "It would completely change America's healthcare system. And not for the better."
And while the most enthusiastic backers of the bill were not in the hearing room, they were not far away.
More than 300 members of the California Nurses Association/National Nurses United, one of the unions that has been pushing Medicare-for-all for years, watched the hearing from an overflow room in the Cannon House Office Building and visited offices to try to gin up support, said co-President Malinda Markowitz.
Markowitz said she was optimistic about the path forward for the measure. "We're going to continue to go to legislators that aren't supporting this and let them know we're not letting them off the hook," she said.
Republicans want the debate to continue in Congress, too. They hope they can stoke fear of a government takeover of health care that will work to their advantage in the next election.
The top Republicans on the House Ways and Means Committee on Tuesday wrote to Chairman Richard Neal (D-Mass.) urging him to schedule a hearing on the bill. "A public accounting of H.R. 1384 is necessary to inform the working families and seniors we represent to the risks of their health coverage under this proposal," said ranking Republican on the full committee, Rep. Kevin Brady (Texas), and the health subcommittee, Rep. Devin Nunes (Calif.).
That is apparently fine with Neal. In a brief interview Tuesday, he said his committee "likely would" hold a hearing in the current Congress. "I think we should have a full-throttle debate" about Medicare-for-all, he said.
SAN FRANCISCO — As Catholic healthcare systems across the country expand, the University of California's flagship San Francisco hospital has become the latest arena for an emotional debate: Should the famously progressive medical center increase its treatment space by joining forces with a Catholic-run system that restricts care according to religious doctrine?
At issue is a proposal that UCSF Medical Center affiliate with Dignity Health, a massive Catholic healthcare system that, like other Catholic chains, is bound by ethical and religious directives from the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops.
Among other prohibitions on services, Dignity hospitals ban abortions unless the mother's life is at risk, in vitro fertilization and physician-assisted death.
Twenty-four of Dignity's 39 hospitals prohibit contraception services and gender-confirming care for transgender people, such as hormone therapy and surgical procedures.
The affiliation would not keep UCSF from performing such procedures at its own medical center and outpatient clinics, and both entities would remain independent. UC doctors with practicing privileges at Dignity would be free to discuss all treatment options and could refer patients to other facilities when necessary.
But they would have to abide by Dignity's care restrictions while practicing at Dignity hospitals.
For opponents of the plan, the issue boils down to a clear-cut principle: How can a public hospital that has been a leader in women's healthcare and medical services for the gay and transgender community partner with a private system that not only denies such services but also casts them as immoral?
"It feels really concerning to me that our university that has been a fierce advocate for women's health and LGBTQ health would be affiliating with a corporation that doesn't support those values and restricts care," said Dr. Jody Steinauer, who directs UCSF's Bixby Center for Global Reproductive Health.
The two systems already have a relationship among several departments, including neurology, cardiology and adolescent psychology. This new affiliation would formalize the collaboration at Dignity's four Bay Area hospitals and could expand services to departments including cancer care and cardiology, which would be staffed by UCSF physicians.
The proposal has sharply split faculty and medical staff at UCSF, who are airing their differences in impassioned letters and heated public forums. Participants on both sides include national figures renowned in their specialty fields.
Supporters of a closer alliance with Dignity say it's an easy way to add capacity to a public healthcare system that is strapped for bed space and turning away more than 800 patients a year. They also note that Dignity is California's largest private provider for patients with Medi-Cal, the state-federal insurance program for the poor.
"So much healthcare is being delivered in this country by faith-based organizations. For us to not participate with them seems like a missed opportunity," Mark Laret, president and CEO of UCSF Health, told a December meeting of the UC Board of Regents, which must decide the issue.
The agreement could include a new labor and delivery unit based at Dignity's St. Francis Memorial Hospital, which would be staffed by non-UCSF obstetricians. That would let Dignity absorb more patients with low-risk pregnancies, leaving UCSF time and space to deal with more complex cases, said Dr. Dana Gossett, a UCSF obstetrician-gynecologist who has been part of the negotiations with Dignity.
"I feel a little like women's health has been portrayed as a casualty of this negotiating," said Gossett. "But as someone who works in labor and delivery and is in the trenches every day, I see it differently. I see the damages our capacity problems have on women right now because we haven't expanded our capacity enough to meet the need."
Of particular concern to opponents of the affiliation are two recent lawsuits against Dignity filed by the American Civil Liberties Union. In one case, a woman was denied a tubal ligation following a cesarean section delivery at a Dignity facility in Redding, Calif. In another, a transgender man was denied a hysterectomy after a Dignity facility in Sacramento learned the procedure was part of his plan to align his gender identity and body.
In March, Steinauer, the head of the Bixby Center, joined more than 1,500 UCSF faculty members, residents, students and alumni in signing a letter opposing the affiliation. "Our affiliation with [Dignity] not only compromises the safety and quality of our patient care, but also threatens the integrity of our reputation as a provider of evidence-based care in an inclusive environment free of bias and discrimination," they wrote.
UCSF is hardly the first public hospital to wrestle with the question of Catholic health care.
Catholic hospital systems now oversee 1 in 6 acute care hospital beds in the U.S., according to MergerWatch, a nonprofit group that tracks hospital consolidation. And the number of hospitals that are Catholic-owned or -affiliated increased by 22% from 2001 to 2016.
Earlier this year, Dignity Health joined forces with another system called Catholic Health Initiatives in a merger approved by both the California Department of Justice and the Vatican. The resulting $29 billion system, CommonSpirit Health, has 119 acute care hospitals and is now the largest nonprofit hospital system in the country, according to MergerWatch.
As health systems across the country scramble to merge and affiliate to gain market share, Catholic health systems have become an appealing partner for some secular hospitals, even when values diverge. In a highly consolidated region like Northern California, partnership options are limited.
The University of Michigan is affiliated with two Catholic systems: Trinity Health and Ascension. The University of Washington affiliated with the Catholic nonprofit PeaceHealth in 2013.
Entanglements between secular and Catholic hospitals have presented problems, said Lois Uttley, who runs MergerWatch. During a trial affiliation between secular Sierra Vista Regional Health Center and the Catholic Carondelet Health Network, both in Arizona, obstetricians initially were told they could perform tubal ligations, only to be told later they needed to stop. The partnership was dissolved.
The UCSF administration said a formal affiliation is necessary to expand services and increase revenue. Dignity is already an important part of UCSF's Canopy Health, a network of doctors and hospitals that can earn bonuses for delivering medical care more efficiently under a program created by the Affordable Care Act. Canopy Health aims to provide care for upwards of 200,000 patients within a few years.
The details of the arrangement are being worked out, but under discussion is the possibility that UCSF will get a financial stake in the affiliated Dignity hospitals, according to UCSF administrators.
The arrangement would provide "a revenue flow to support some of our money-losing programs," UCSF's Laret told the UC Regents this month. "There really is not a good alternative from our standpoint," he added. "If we have to disengage from our partnership with Dignity, forget UCSF, I think that it's catastrophic for the health care delivery system in San Francisco."
Dignity, meanwhile, would benefit from the inflow of patients at hospitals that often operate under capacity.
UCSF has promised workarounds to avoid potential conflicts where Dignity's hospitals prohibit services. Patients would be informed upfront about which services are not provided at Dignity facilities, for example, so they could choose to go to their preferred hospital. No UCSF staff would be asked to provide obstetric or reproductive services at Catholic facilities. And if patients at a Dignity hospital needed a prohibited service, they could be transferred to UCSF.
In an emailed statement, Dr. Todd Strumwasser, a Dignity Health senior vice president, wrote that "physicians practicing at Dignity Health hospitals may discuss all treatment options with patients" and "facilitate access" to another site when a Dignity hospital does not provide a certain service. "In a situation in which a pregnant woman's life is in danger, life-saving procedures that may result in termination of the pregnancy will be performed."
Such policies, however, are subject to changes by the bishops who set the rules at Catholic hospitals, said Lori Freedman, a UCSF professor who studies reproductive health care at Catholic hospitals.
"We don't know what the future really looks like," Freedman said. "Sometimes workarounds don't stick around."
With its new policy, Medicare is saying that an off-campus office is an off-campus office, regardless of whether it's owned by a hospital, a group of doctors or a solo practitioner.
This article was first published on Friday, April 26, 2019, in Kaiser Health News.
As chief executive officer of Olympic Medical Center, he oversees efforts to provide care to roughly 75,000 people in Clallam County, in the isolated, rural northwestern corner of Washington state.
Last year, Lewis planned to build a primary care clinic in Sequim, a town about 17 miles from the medical center's main campus in Port Angeles.
But those plans were put aside, Lewis said, because of a change in federal reimbursements this year. Medicare has opted to pay hospitals with outpatient facilities that are "off campus" a lower rate, equivalent to what it pays independent doctors for clinic visits.
Over the past decade, hospitals have been rapidly building outpatient clinics or purchasing existing independent ones. It was a lucrative business strategy because such clinics could charge higher rates, on the premise that they were part of a hospital.
With its new policy, Medicare is essentially saying that an off-campus office is an off-campus office, regardless of whether it's owned by a hospital, a group of doctors or a solo practitioner.
Making that statement will save Medicare — and possibly patients — money. The federal insurer bore the brunt of its members' extra charges, but beneficiaries sometimes picked up part of that expense through deductibles and copayments. Patients with commercial insurance often were blindsided by high bills — going to what seemed to be a normal primary care clinic, only to discover they were charged a hospital facility fee, for example.
Health policy experts said the new policy represents an important step in rationalizing payments. The new policy — part of a strategy called "site-neutral" payment — has its roots in the Obama administration and was part of the Bipartisan Budget Act of 2015.
"You don't care about where [your treatment is] happening. You care that it's a safe and inexpensive procedure," said Gerard Anderson, director of the Johns Hopkins Center for Hospital Finance and Management. "And the facility fee just adds to the cost with very little added value."
The new payment structure may hurt some hospitals financially, he and other experts acknowledged. But making reimbursements more uniform across providers facilitates competition and may lead commercial insurance to follow suit — which could translate to more savings.
The policy's two-part phase-in cut Medicare payments for clinic visits to outpatient departments by 30% this year, according tothe rule finalized in November. By 2020, the rate will be cut another 30%.
It could also cut down on consolidation in the industry, experts said, by closing the loophole that created incentives for hospitals to purchase independent physician practices and charge higher rates for services at taxpayers' expense.
The American Hospital Association filed a lawsuit in December alleging that CMS overstepped its authority when setting the new reimbursement schedule. Olympic Medical Center is among the named plaintiffs.
The hospital association claims that the new rule infringes on a precedent Congress set with the 2015 budget law. That legislation standardized Medicare payments for clinic visits to physicians' offices and new hospital outpatient facilities, but allowed most hospital-affiliated departments that existed at that time to continue receiving a higher rate, according to a comment letter from the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission. The group is a nonpartisan agency that advises Congress.
The differential for site-based payments was designed originally to help hospitals offset the higher costs they incur for maintaining the staff and equipment to handle a wide variety of treatments, said Christopher Whaley, an associate policy researcher at the research organization Rand Corp.
But that relief became an incentive for hospitals to buy independent practices, said Dr. Ateev Mehrotra, associate professor of health care policy and medicine at Harvard Medical School. Hospitals could charge higher prices for services performed in newly acquired clinics. Mehrotra said the new CMS rule could be a way to slow down the trend.
"This isn't going to fully put the brakes on it," he said, "but it could be one push on the brakes here to kind of push that consolidation down."
Some experts have urged the government to expand the number of services covered by the site-neutral policy, including paying hospitals' on-site clinics a rate equivalent to what independent doctors receive.
Hospitals acknowledged the change implemented by CMS could lead to savings in the health care system, but they say it comes at the cost of patient access. In Washington state, Lewis anticipates a loss of $1.6 million for his hospital. The lack of a clinic in Sequim means ailing patients there will not be able to get care close to their homes, he said.
"If you're well-to-do financially, these aren't big problems," Lewis added. "But I think the poorest, elderly, sickest of our society will pay the price of this policy."
Said Melinda Hatton, general counsel for the hospital association: "I think access trumps a couple extra dollars in copays every single time."
On the other hand, many independent physicians support the change. Marni Jameson Carey, executive director of the Association of Independent Doctors, echoed the experts' hope that the rule will curb consolidation. According toa report by the consulting firm Avalere Health, the number of hospital-owned physician practices more than doubled, from 35,700 to 80,000, between July 2012 and January 2018. Hospitals own more than 31% of all physician practices, the researchers said.
Jameson Carey said these mergers can also cause problems for the local economy. When a nonprofit hospital acquires an independent clinic, it effectively removes a tax-paying business from the area. That's because nonprofit hospitals are exempt from paying certain federal, state and local taxes in exchange for providing community benefits.
"So not only do they [hospitals] get the facility fee," Jameson Carey said, but also, "they don't have to pay taxes."
Once among the largest pain management groups in the Southeast, CPS crumbled amid financial woes and a criminal investigation that ensnared its former CEO.
This article was first published on Wednesday, April 24, 2019, in Kaiser Health News.
A Tennessee-based chain of pain clinics that abruptly shut down last summer faces five whistleblower lawsuits accusing it of defrauding Medicare and other health insurers by billing for hundreds of unnecessary urine drug tests and other dubious health services, newly unsealed court records show.
The federal suits target Tennessee-based Comprehensive Pain Specialists, also known as Anesthesia Services Associates, PLLC, and several of its physician owners. At its peak, CPS ran 60 pain clinics in 12 states, according to the suits, as well as a lucrative urine-testing lab in Brentwood, Tenn. CPS closed with no warning in July, leaving patients in several states distressed and scrambling to find a new source of narcotic pain medicines.
In federal court filings unsealed in Nashville this week, federal prosecutors said they would take over the urine-testing allegations and sue several CPS owners, including co-founding anesthesiologists Peter Kroll and Steven Dickerson. Dickerson is a Republican state senator representing Nashville.
Kroll could not be reached for comment Wednesday. Dickerson did not respond to an email or a phone message left at his legislative office.
It is not clear whether the whistleblowers, who include former CPS doctors and other employees, would pursue several allegations against the company that the federal government declined to join in. CPS, in an unrelated court filing in December, said the company had terminated all of its employees and that debts "greatly exceed its assets."
Once among the largest pain management groups in the Southeast, CPS crumbled amid financial woes that included nearly a dozen civil suits alleging unpaid debts, and a criminal investigation that ensnared its former chief executive, John Davis. Davis, 41, was convicted this month in federal court in Nashville on health care fraud charges. He is to be sentenced later this year.
CPS was the subject of a November 2017 investigation by Kaiser Health News that scrutinized its Medicare billings for urine drug tests. Medicare paid the company at least $11 million for urine screenings and related tests in 2014, when five of CPS' medical professionals stood among the nation's top such Medicare billers. One nurse practitioner working at a CPS clinic in Cleveland, Tenn., generated $1.1 million in urine-test billings that year, according to Medicare records analyzed by KHN.
Kroll, who also served as CPS' medical director, said at the time that the tests were justified for patient safety and to reduce chances the pills might be sold on the black market. Kroll billed Medicare $1.8 million for urine tests in 2015, the KHN analysis of Medicare billing records found.
Kroll in an interview with KHN at the time said that he and fellow anesthesiologist Dickerson came up with the idea for the pain clinics over a cup of coffee at a Nashville Starbucks in 2005.
One of the whistleblower suits alleging unnecessary urine tests was first filed under seal in 2016 by Suzanne Alt, a doctor who worked in the company's pain clinics in Troy, Mo., and Keokuk, Iowa, from May 2014 to March 2015. She alleged CPS doctors were "strongly encouraged to order full-panel urine drug screens on each patient, every time, despite the patient's history, compliance and risk."
She also said that the company's electronic medical records "made it extremely difficult to order anything less than the full panel." Alt said she was told the Tennessee lab did about 600 of these screens daily. Another whistleblower said he toured the lab with CPS executives and observed an "overpowering and unpleasant smell of urine." In response, a CPS executive said, "To me, it smells like money," according to the suit.
"They were making a killing," said Birmingham, Ala., attorney Don McKenna, who represents Alt in the case.
Another of the whistleblowers, former CPS anesthesiologist Cynthia Niendorff, alleged that the company billed Medicare about $754 for each additional urine test, even though earlier results had come back negative. She said CPS grossed approximately $6 million per month from the urine-testing lab and said about 20% of this amount was suspect, according to the suit.
Mary Butner, a former insurance specialist for CPS in Gallatin, Tenn., alleged that CPS charged some patients $1,500 for a drug test to measure blood levels of medication and $400 for a drug test designed to detect illegal drugs — charges that the suit called "grossly inflated and disproportional to the actual costs." She also alleged that CPS would fill prescriptions for patients whose drug tests detected the presence of illegal drugs, or showed that they were not taking their medication as directed.
Butner also accused medical director Kroll of approving prescriptions for back braces when it was "clearly medically unnecessary," including some people who had injuries to a knee or elbow.