Recent conflicts have underlined the pressure on health care workers to provide unauthorized covid treatments, particularly in parts of the country where vaccination rates are low, government skepticism is high, and conservative leaders have championed the treatments.
This article was published on Thursday, December 2, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
HELENA, Mont. — One Montana hospital went into lockdown and called police after a woman threatened violence because her relative was denied her request to be treated with ivermectin.
Officials of another Montana hospital accused public officials of threatening and harassing their health care workers for refusing to treat a politically connected covid-19 patient with that antiparasitic drug or hydroxychloroquine, another drug unauthorized by the Food and Drug Administration to treat covid.
And in neighboring Idaho, a medical resident said police had to be called to a hospital after a covid patient’s relative verbally abused her and threatened physical violence because she would not prescribe ivermectin or hydroxychloroquine, “drugs that are not beneficial in the treatment of covid-19,” she wrote.
These three conflicts, which occurred from September to November, underline the pressure on health care workers to provide unauthorized covid treatments, particularly in parts of the country where vaccination rates are low, government skepticism is high, and conservative leaders have championed the treatments.
“You’re going to have this from time to time, but it’s not the norm,” said Rich Rasmussen, president and CEO of the Montana Hospital Association. “The vast majority of patients are completely compliant and have good, robust conversations with their medical care team. But you’re going to have these outliers.”
Even before the pandemic, the health care and social assistance industry — which includes residential care facilities and child day care, among other services — led all U.S. industries in nonfatal workplace violence, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. Covid has made the problem worse, leading to hospital security upgrades, staff training and calls for increased federal regulation.
Ivermectin and other unauthorized covid treatments have become a major source of dispute in recent months. Lawsuits over hospitals’ refusals to provide ivermectin to patients have been filed in Texas, Florida, Illinois and elsewhere. The ivermectin harassment extends beyond U.S. borders to providers and public health officials worldwide, in such countries as Australia, Brazil and the United Kingdom. Even so, reports of threats of violence and harassment like those recently seen in the Northern Rocky Mountains region have been relatively rare.
Ivermectin is approved to treat parasites in animals, and low doses of the drug are approved to treat worms, head lice and certain skin conditions in humans. But the FDA has not authorized the drug to treat covid. The agency says that clinical trials are ongoing but that the current data does not show it is an effective covid treatment and taking higher-than-approved levels can lead to overdose.
Likewise, hydroxychloroquine can cause serious health problems and the drug does not help speed recovery or decrease the chance of dying of covid, according to the FDA.
In Missoula, Montana, the Community Medical Center was placed on lockdown and police were called on Nov. 17 after a woman reportedly threatened violence over how her relative was being treated, according to a Police Department statement. Nobody was arrested.
“The family member was upset the patient was not treated with ivermectin,” Lt. Eddie McLean said Tuesday.
Hospital spokesperson Megan Condra confirmed on Wednesday that the patient’s relative demanded ivermectin, but she said the patient was not there for covid, though she declined to disclose the patient’s medical issue. The main entrance of the hospital was locked to control who entered the building, Condra added, but the hospital’s formal lockdown procedures were not implemented.
The scare was reminiscent of one that happened in Idaho in September. Dr. Ashley Carvalho, who is completing her medical residency training in Boise, wrote in an op-ed in the Idaho Capital Sun that she was verbally abused and threatened with both physical violence and a lawsuit by a patient’s relative after she refused to prescribe ivermectin or hydroxychloroquine.
“My patient was struggling to breathe, but the family refused to allow me to provide care,” Carvalho wrote. “A call to the police was the only solution.”
An 82-year-old woman who was active in Montana Republican politics was admitted to St. Peter’s Health, the hospital in Helena, with covid in October. According to a November report by a special counsel appointed by state lawmakers, a family friend contacted Chief Deputy Attorney General Kris Hansen, a former Republican state senator, with multiple complaints: Hospital officials had not delivered a power-of-attorney document left by relatives for the patient to sign, she was denied her preferred medical treatment, she was cut off from her family, and the family worried hospital officials might prevent her from leaving. The patient later died.
That complaint led to the involvement of Republican Attorney General Austin Knudsen, who texted a lobbyist for the Montana Hospital Association who is also on St. Peter’s board of directors. An image of the exchange was included in the report.
“I’m about to send law enforcement in and file unlawful restraint charges,” Knudsen wrote to Mark Taylor, who responded that he would make inquiries.
“This has been going on since yesterday and I was hoping the hospital would do the right thing. But my patience is wearing thin,” the attorney general added.
A Montana Highway Patrol trooper was sent to the hospital to take the statement of the patient’s family members. Hansen also participated in a conference call with multiple health care providers in which she talked about the “legal ramifications” of withholding documents and the patient’s preferred treatment, which included ivermectin and hydroxychloroquine.
Public Service Commissioner Jennifer Fielder, a former Republican state senator, left a three-minute voicemail on a hospital line saying the patient’s friends in the Senate would not be too happy to learn of the care St. Peter’s was providing, according to the special counsel’s report.
Fielder and the patient’s daughter also cited a “right to try” law that Montana legislators passed in 2015 that allows terminally ill patients to seek experimental treatments. But a legal analysis written for the Montana Medical Association says that while the law does not require a provider to prescribe a particular medication if a patient demands it, it could give a provider legal immunity if the provider decides to prescribe the treatment, according to the Montana State News Bureau.
The report did not offer any conclusions or allegations of wrongdoing.
Hospital officials said before and after the report’s release that their health care providers were threatened and harassed when they refused to administer certain treatments for covid.
“We stand by our assertion that the involvement of public officials in clinical care is inappropriate; that individuals leveraged their official positions in an attempt to influence clinical care; and that some of the exchanges that took place were threatening or harassing,” spokesperson Katie Gallagher said in a statement.
“Further, we reviewed all medical and legal records related to this patient’s care and verified that our teams provided care in accordance with clinical best practice, hospital policy and patient rights,” Gallagher added.
The attorney general’s office did not respond to a request for comment but told the Montana Free Press in a statement that nobody at the state agency threatened anyone.
Rasmussen, the head of the Montana Hospital Association, said St. Peter’s officials have not reached out to the group for assistance. He downplayed the attorney general’s intervention in Helena, saying it often happens that people who know medical leaders or trustees will advocate on behalf of a relative or friend.
“Is this situation different? Certainly, because it’s from the attorney general,” Rasmussen said. “But I think the AG was responding to a constituent. Others would reach out to whoever they know on the hospital board.”
He added that hospitals have procedures in place that allow family members of patients to take their complaints to a supervisor or other hospital leader without resorting to threats.
Hospitals in the region that have watched the allegations of threats and harassment unfold declined to comment on their procedures to handle such conflicts.
“We respect the independent medical judgment of our providers who practice medicine consistent with approved, authorized treatment and recognized clinical standards,” said Bozeman Health spokesperson Lauren Brendel.
Tanner Gooch, a spokesperson for SCL Health Montana, which operates hospitals in Billings, Butte and Miles City, said SCL does not endorse ivermectin or other covid treatments that haven’t been approved by the FDA but doesn’t ban them, either.
“Ultimately, the treatment decisions are at the discretion of the provider,” Gooch said. “To our knowledge, no covid-19 patients have been treated with ivermectin at our hospitals.”
The number of U.S. deaths from covid-19 has surpassed 778,000. Left behind are tens of thousands of children — some orphaned — after their parents or a grandparent who cared for them died. In this report, co-produced with PBS NewsHour, KHN correspondent Sarah Varney looks at the risks these grieving children face to their well-being, both in the short and long term. No concerted government effort exists to help the estimated 140,000 children who have lost a parent — or even to identify them.
Betty Hamilton of Eastman, Georgia, took in her five grandsons, ages 4 to 10, after their father died suddenly of covid in August. They had already lost their mom in a car crash years ago. With no financial help from the government, except food stamps and Medicaid, she struggles to provide the basics: keeping them fed and clothed as they grow.
But for these kids and countless others, the unaddressed emotional needs seem the greatest risk. Stressful events can be “biologically embedded,” says one expert, and their unresolved grief and depression can haunt them for life, leaving them economically disadvantaged.
The reports from covid-19 patients are disconcerting. Only a few hours before, they were enjoying a cup of pungent coffee or the fragrance of flowers in a garden. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, those smells disappeared.
Young and old alike are affected — more than 80% to 90% of those diagnosed with the virus, according to some estimates. While most people recover in a few months, 16% take half a year or longer to do so, research has found. According to new estimates, up to 1.6 million Americans have chronic smell problems due to covid.
Seniors are especially vulnerable, experts suggest. “We know that many older adults have a compromised sense of smell to begin with. Add to that the insult of covid, and it made these problems worse,” said Dr. Jayant Pinto, a professor of surgery and specialist in sinus and nasal diseases at the University of Chicago Medical Center.
Recent data highlights the interaction between covid, advanced age and loss of smell. When Italian researchers evaluated 101 patients who’d been hospitalized for mild to moderate covid, 50 showed objective signs of smell impairment six months later. Those 65 or older were nearly twice as likely to be impaired; those 75 or older were more than 2½ times as likely.
Most people aren’t aware of the extent to which smell can be diminished in later life. More than half of 65- to 80-year-olds have some degree of smell loss, or olfactory dysfunction, as it’s known in the scientific literature. That rises to as high as 80% for those even older. People affected often report concerns about safety, less enjoyment eating and an impaired quality of life.
But because the ability to detect, identify and discriminate among odors declines gradually, most older adults — up to 75% of those with some degree of smell loss — don’t realize they’re affected.
A host of factors are believed to contribute to age-related smell loss, including a reduction in the number of olfactory sensory neurons in the nose, which are essential for detecting odors; changes in stem cells that replenish these neurons every few months; atrophy of the processing center for smell in the brain, called the olfactory bulb; and the shrinkage of brain centers closely connected with the olfactory bulb, such as the hippocampus, a region central to learning and memory.
Also, environmental toxic substances such as air pollution play a part, research shows. “Olfactory neurons in your nose are basically little pieces of your brain hanging out in the outside world,” and exposure to them over time damages those neurons and the tissues that support them, explained Pamela Dalton, a principal investigator at the Monell Chemical Senses Center, a smell and taste research institute in Philadelphia.
Still, the complex workings of the olfactory system have not been mapped in detail yet, and much remains unknown, said Dr. Sandeep Robert Datta, a professor of neurobiology at Harvard Medical School.
“We tend to think of our sense of smell as primarily aesthetic,” he said. “What’s very clear is that it’s far more important. The olfactory system plays a key role in maintaining our emotional well-being and connecting us with the world.”
Datta experienced this after having a bone marrow transplant followed by chemotherapy years ago. Unable to smell or taste food, he said, he felt “very disoriented” in his environment.
Common consequences of smell loss include a loss of appetite (without smell, taste is deeply compromised), difficulty monitoring personal hygiene, depression and an inability to detect noxious fumes. In older adults, this can lead to weight loss, malnutrition, frailty, inadequate personal care, and accidents caused by gas leaks or fires.
Jerome Pisano, 75, of Bloomington, Illinois, has been living with smell loss for five years. Repeated tests and consultations with physicians haven’t pinpointed a reason for this ailment, and sometimes he feels “hopeless,” Pisano admitted.
Before he became smell-impaired, Pisano was certified as a wine specialist. He has an 800-bottle wine cellar. “I can’t appreciate that as much as I’d like. I miss the smell of cut grass. Flowers. My wife’s cooking,” he said. “It certainly does decrease my quality of life.”
Smell loss is also associated in various research studies with a higher risk of death for older adults. One study, authored by Pinto and colleagues, found that older adults with olfactory dysfunction were nearly three times as likely to die over a period of five years as seniors whose sense of smell remained intact.
“Our sense of smell signals how our nervous system is doing and how well our brain is doing overall,” Pinto said. According to a review published earlier this year, 90% of people with early-stage Parkinson’s disease and more than 80% of people with Alzheimer’s disease have olfactory dysfunction — a symptom that can precede other symptoms by many years.
There is no treatment for smell loss associated with neurological illness or head trauma, but if someone has persistent sinus problems or allergies that cause congestion, an over-the-counter antihistamine or nasal steroid spray can help. Usually, smell returns in a few weeks.
For smell loss following a viral infection, the picture is less clear. It’s not known, yet, which viruses are associated with olfactory dysfunction, why they damage smell and what trajectory recovery takes. Covid may help shine a light on this since it has inspired a wave of research on olfaction loss around the world.
“What characteristics make people more vulnerable to a persistent loss of smell after a virus? We don’t know that, but I think we will because that research is underway and we’ve never had a cohort [of people with smell loss] this large to study,” said Dalton, of the Monell center.
Some experts recommend smell training, noting evidence of efficacy and no indication of harm. This involves sniffing four distinct scents (often eucalyptus, lemon, rose and cloves) twice a day for 30 seconds each, usually for four weeks. Sometimes the practice is combined with pictures of the items being smelled, a form of visual reinforcement.
The theory is that “practice, practice, practice” will stimulate the olfactory system, said Charles Greer, a professor of neurosurgery and neuroscience at Yale School of Medicine. Although scientific support isn’t well established, he said, he often recommends that people who think their smell is declining “get a shelf full of spices and smell them on a regular basis.”
Richard Doty, director of the University of Pennsylvania’s Smell and Taste Center, remains skeptical. He’s writing a review of smell training and notes that 20% to 30% of people with viral infections and smell loss recover in a relatively short time, whether or not they pursue this therapy.
“The main thing we recommend is avoid polluted environments and get your full complement of vitamins,” since several vitamins play an important role in maintaining the olfactory system, he said.
Americans, already weary of a pandemic nearly two years long, were dealt a new blow during the long Thanksgiving weekend: the announcement that a new coronavirus variant had emerged.
The omicron variant, officially known as B.1.1.529, surfaced in November in several southern African nations. It set off alarm bells worldwide when public health officials in South Africa saw it beginning to outcompete the previous reigning variant, delta. This suggested that omicron could eventually spread widely. Indeed, omicron has since been reported on multiple continents, likely due to international travel by people unknowingly infected.
After the emergence of omicron was announced, several nations imposed travel bans hoping to contain the virus. Whether those bans will effectively slow the spread remains unknown. “Travel bans don’t help once the horse is already out of the barn, as we’ve seen before and are seeing now,” said Tara Smith, a Kent State University epidemiologist.
Scientists caution that it’s still too early to say whether omicron will prove as dangerous as delta. Other variants that initially seemed worrisome have flamed out.
For now, here’s what we know, and don’t know, about the omicron variant.
What Is a Variant?
A variant of a virus is one that has mutated in a way that bolsters its spread or severity compared with the original strain that emerged in Wuhan, China. “RNA viruses like the coronavirus can mutate when they replicate, especially when circulating at high rates,” said Dr. Monica Gandhi, professor of medicine at the University of California-San Francisco.
Coronaviruses do not mutate as readily as influenza viruses do, but they do mutate over time. The variants generally produce the same range of symptoms as the original strain of the coronavirus. But the mutations may help the virus spread more effectively from person to person, or have an advantage in sneaking past either natural or vaccine immunity.
What Variants Were Already Circulating in the United States?
To date, public health officials have noted five “variants of concern,” plus two “variants of interest” not yet considered as worrisome. So far, no variants have emerged that fit the most worrisome of the three official categories — “variants of high consequence.”
The World Health Organization decided early this year to name the variants after Greek letters, both to simplify the discussion and to limit the stigma of having a variant named for a country.
The first four “variants of concern” — alpha, beta, gamma and delta — have been circulating in the United States for most of this year. But the most dominant variant has been delta, due to its ability to spread from person to person more quickly than other variants. For months, delta has accounted for more than 99% of coronavirus infections in the U.S.
There were no confirmed cases of omicron in the United States as of midday Nov. 29, but experts warn it’s just a matter of time. It could be in the U.S. already, merely undetected.
How Did Omicron Emerge?
Though scientists aren’t sure precisely where omicron first surfaced, it was most likely in a southern African nation.
Experts say low vaccination rates in that part of the world probably played a role in creating a favorable environment for the mutations that produced omicron. (It can be pronounced either AH-mi-crahn or OH-mi-crahn.)
“Many countries in Africa have populations with very low immunity — about 30% in South Africa are vaccinated,” Smith said. “In a largely non-immune population, the virus can sweep through, and each new person infected is a chance for the virus to mutate.”
Why Did Public Health Officials React So Urgently to Omicron?
The concern stems from the scope and nature of the new variant’s mutations. South African health officials noted 50 notable mutations, 30 of which are on the spike protein, a key structure in the virus, New York magazine reported. That’s more than previous variants have had.
“If we were looking out for mutations that do affect transmissibility, it’s got all of them,” University of Oxford evolutionary biologist Aris Katzourakis told Science magazine.
Still, what’s uncertain at this point is how effectively those mutations will work together in creating a variant that can consistently outcompete delta.
What Do We Know About Omicron’s Degree of Infectiousness?
The omicron variant is so new that scientists are just beginning to learn about its characteristics. Because of this, experts urge caution in drawing conclusions, especially from anecdotal evidence.
That said, scientists say they would not be shocked if omicron becomes as easily transmissible as delta.
“The answer is uncertain, of course, but it looks as though it will be at least as infectious as delta,” said Dr. William Schaffner, a professor of preventive medicine at Vanderbilt University School of Medicine.
One complicating factor, Schaffner said, is that the initial areas of fastest spread have been in areas of Johannesburg populated by young adults and college students, who tend to have lower vaccination rates. The vulnerability of these groups to infection may be exaggerating how rapidly omicron seems to be spreading.
What Do We Know About Whether Omicron Makes Patients Sicker?
The early evidence is somewhat conflicting, but there are signs that symptoms from omicron may not be more severe than previous variants. Dr. Angelique Coetzee, who chairs the South African Medical Association, has said that the early cases being seen among the unvaccinated are mild.
It remains to be seen, however, whether older and unhealthier patients will also see milder symptoms. Another caveat is that it may be too early in omicron’s spread to see cases that have seriously progressed.
Will Existing Vaccines Be Effective Against the Omicron Variant?
Scientists are cautiously optimistic that existing vaccines will also be effective against omicron, just as they have been against delta, at least in being able to prevent illness severe enough to require hospitalization.
Gandhi added that the immunity-providing B cells produced by the vaccines have been shown to produce antibodies against variants, and that T-cell immunity, which protects against severe disease, is robust and should not be at risk from the mutations being seen in omicron. The vaccines also produce polyclonal antibodies that work against multiple parts of the spike protein, she said. Finally, booster shots have been shown to be effective in strengthening immunity quickly.
“Most scientists believe we should still have protection against severe disease with vaccinations, and vaccination remains the mainstay of control,” Gandhi said.
Bottom line: If you haven’t been vaccinated, and especially if you haven’t had the disease yet, get vaccinated. And if you’ve already been vaccinated, get a booster.
How Long Will It Be Before We Have a Better Handle on the Threat From Omicron?
Other questions — including whether omicron makes you sicker, and whether it’s more transmissible — will take longer to answer because they require careful contact tracing and accurate diagnoses of those infected.
To better answer those questions, Smith said, “I think, at a minimum, it will take a month to get some preliminary data, and quite possibly longer to really know the fuller picture. We also won’t know about real-world experience in vaccine breakthroughs until that time.”
Can We Expect a Specific New Booster to be Developed for Omicron?
It’s unknown whether the omicron variant will require a reformulated booster. A newly formulated booster wasn’t necessary for delta, because researchers determined that the existing formulation was still effective.
That said, vaccine makers can jump in with a new booster quickly if they have to.
In the event that such a variant emerges, Pfizer and BioNTech “expect to be able to develop and produce a tailor-made vaccine against that variant” within 100 days, pending regulatory approval, a Pfizer spokesperson told The Washington Post.
Dr. Matthew Laurens, a specialist in pediatric infectious diseases at the University of Maryland School of Medicine, said he’s confident boosters could be developed and tested quickly if needed, “likely within a few months.”
What Happened to the Other Variants?
Between May 2021, when delta was named a variant of concern, and November 2021, when omicron was given the same label, two other variants were elevated to the lower “variant of interest” status: lambda from Peru and mu from Colombia. Other variants, such as one discovered in Nepal called “delta-plus,” attracted notice during that period as well. But none of these managed to outcompete delta in a consistent way, so they were never elevated to “variant of concern.”
This is the most hopeful outcome for omicron. The other variants “all had similar concerns around them, but they didn’t expand to any significant degree after the initial reporting,” Gandhi said.
Is It Reasonable to Think the U.S. Is in a Better Position to Handle Omicron Than It Was for Delta?
Experts generally agreed that the United States should be better prepared to battle omicron than it was when delta emerged earlier this year.
“We are in a much better position since we have higher rates of vaccination, the availability of boosters for everyone over 18 and vaccine eligibility down to 5 years old,” Gandhi said. “We also have higher rates of natural immunity in this country due to the delta variant’s spread since July 2021. And we have oral antiviral therapeutics on the horizon. So we have the tools to fight this new variant.”
The challenge, Schaffner said, will be to make sure Americans continue to get vaccinated and boosted, and to make use of testing and maintain safe behavior in public.
“All these tools are available,” he said. “The big question is how inclined the general public is to use these tools.”
Is the Coronavirus Going to Be Around Permanently, Like the Flu?
Experts now believe it’s unlikely that the coronavirus will either be eradicated from the globe, like smallpox has been, or even eliminated in the United States, as polio was following near-universal vaccination. The combination of rapid mutations and too-low vaccination rates make it likely that covid-19 won’t follow smallpox and polio into submission.
“This will more likely be the influenza model, where we have to track mutations annually and alter the boosters accordingly,” Schaffner said. In fact, he said, efforts to create combined coronavirus-flu shots are already underway.
A growing body of research into PTSD and service animals paved the way for President Joe Biden to sign into law the Puppies Assisting Wounded Servicemembers (PAWS) for Veterans Therapy Act.
This article was published on Tuesday, November 30, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
It was supper time in the Whittier, California, home of Air Force veteran Danyelle Clark-Gutierrez, and eagerly awaiting a bowl of kibble and canned dog food was Lisa, a 3-year-old yellow Labrador retriever.
Her nails clicking on the kitchen floor as she danced about, Lisa looked more like an exuberant puppy than the highly trained service animal that helps Clark-Gutierrez manage the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.
“Having her now, it’s like I can go anywhere,” Clark-Gutierrez said. “And, yes, if somebody did come at me, I’d have warning — I could run.”
A growing body of research into PTSD and service animals paved the way for President Joe Biden to sign into law the Puppies Assisting Wounded Servicemembers (PAWS) for Veterans Therapy Act. The legislation, enacted in August, requires the Department of Veterans Affairs to open its service dog referral program to veterans with PTSD and to launch a five-year pilot program in which veterans with PTSD train service dogs for other veterans.
Clark-Gutierrez, 33, is among the 25 percent of female veterans who have reported experiencing military sexual trauma while serving in the U.S. armed services.
Military sexual trauma, combat violence and brain injuries are some of the experiences that increase the risk that service members will develop PTSD. Symptoms include flashbacks to the traumatic event, severe anxiety, nightmares and hypervigilance — all normal reactions to experiencing or witnessing violence, according to psychologists. Someone receives a PTSD diagnosis when symptoms worsen or remain for months or years.
That’s what Clark-Gutierrez said happened to her after ongoing sexual harassment by a fellow airman escalated to a physical attack about a decade ago. A lawyer with three children, she said that to feel safe leaving her home she needed her husband by her side. After diagnosing Clark-Gutierrez with PTSD, doctors at VA hospitals prescribed a cascade of medications for her. At one point, Clark-Gutierrez said, her prescriptions added up to more than a dozen pills a day.
“I had medication, and then I had medication for the two or three side effects for each medication,” she said. “And every time they gave me a new med, they had to give me three more. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was just getting so tired. So we started looking at other therapies.”
And that’s how she got her service dog, Lisa. Clark-Gutierrez’s husband, also an Air Force veteran, discovered the nonprofit group K9s for Warriors, which rescues dogs — many from kill shelters — and trains them to be service animals for veterans with PTSD. Lisa is one of about 700 dogs the group has paired with veterans dealing with symptoms caused by traumatic experiences.
“Now with Lisa we take bike rides, we go down to the park, we go to Home Depot,” said Clark-Gutierrez. “I go grocery shopping — normal-people things that I get to do that I didn’t get to do before Lisa.”
That comes as no surprise to Maggie O’Haire, an associate professor of human-animal interaction at Purdue University. Her research suggests that while service dogs aren’t necessarily a cure for PTSD, they do ease its symptoms. Among her published studies is one showing that veterans partnered with these dogs experience less anger and anxiety and get better sleep than those without a service dog. Another of her studies suggests that service dogs lower cortisol levels in veterans who have been traumatized.
“We actually saw patterns of that stress hormone that were more similar to healthy adults who don’t have post-traumatic stress disorder,” O’Haire said.
A congressionally mandated VA study that focuses on service dogs’ impact on veterans with PTSD and was published this year suggests that those partnered with the animals experience less suicidal ideation and more improvement to their symptoms than those without them.
Until now, the federal dog referral program — which relies on nonprofit service dog organizations to pay for the dogs and to provide them to veterans for free — required that participating veterans have a physical mobility issue, such as a lost limb, paralysis or blindness. Veterans like Clark-Gutierrez who have PTSD but no physical disability were on their own in arranging for a service dog.
The pilot program created by the new federal law will give veterans with PTSD the chance to train mental health service dogs for other veterans. It’s modeled on a program at the VA hospital in Palo Alto, California, and will be offered at five VA medical centers nationwide in partnership with accredited service dog training organizations.
“This bill is really about therapeutic, on-the-job training, or ‘training the trainer,’” said Adam Webb, a spokesperson for Sen. Thom Tillis (R-N.C.), who introduced the legislation in the Senate. “We don’t anticipate VA will start prescribing PTSD service dogs, but the data we generate from this pilot program will likely be useful in making that case in the future.”
The Congressional Budget Office estimates the pilot program will cost the VA about $19 million. The law stops short of requiring the VA to pay for the dogs. Instead, the agency will partner with accredited service dog organizations that use private money to cover the cost of adopting, training and pairing the dogs with veterans.
Still, the law represents a welcome about-face in VA policy, said Rory Diamond, CEO of K9s for Warriors.
“For the last 10 years, the VA has essentially told us that they don’t recognize service dogs as helping a veteran with post-traumatic stress,” Diamond said.
PTSD service dogs are often confused with emotional support dogs, Diamond said. The latter provide companionship and are not trained to support someone with a disability. PTSD service dogs cost about $25,000 to adopt and train, he said.
Diamond explained that the command “cover” means “the dog will sit next to the warrior, look behind them and alert them if someone comes up from behind.” The command “block” means the dog will “stand perpendicular and give them some space from whatever’s in front of them.”
Retired Army Master Sgt. David Crenshaw of Kearny, New Jersey, said his service dog, Doc, has changed his life.
“We teach in the military to have a battle buddy,” Crenshaw said. “And these service animals act as a battle buddy.”
A few months ago, Crenshaw experienced this firsthand. He had generally avoided large gatherings because persistent hypervigilance is one symptom of his combat-caused PTSD. But this summer, Doc, a pointer and Labrador mix, helped Crenshaw navigate the crowds at Disney World — a significant first for Crenshaw and his family of five.
“I was not agitated. I was not anxious. I was not upset,” said Crenshaw, 39. “It was truly, truly amazing and so much so that I didn’t even have to even stop to think about it in the moment. It just happened naturally.”
Thanks to Doc, Crenshaw said, he no longer takes PTSD drugs or self-medicates with alcohol. Clark-Gutierrez said Lisa, too, has helped her quit using alcohol and stop taking VA-prescribed medications for panic attacks, nightmares and periods of disassociation.
The dogs actually save the VA money over time, Diamond said. “Our warriors are far less likely to be on expensive prescription drugs, are far less likely to use other VA services and far more likely to go to school or go to work. So it’s a win-win-win across the board.”
Long waits for mental health treatment are a nationwide problem, with reports of patients waiting an average of five or six weeks for care in community clinics, at Department of Veterans Affairs facilities and in private offices from Maryland to Los Angeles County.
This article was published on Monday, November 29, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
When Greta Christina fell into a deep depression five years ago, she called up her therapist in San Francisco. She’d had a great connection with the provider when she needed therapy in the past. She was delighted to learn that he was now “in network” with her insurance company, meaning she wouldn’t have to pay out-of-pocket anymore to see him.
But her excitement was short-lived. Over time, Christina’s appointments with the therapist went from every two weeks, to every four weeks, to every five or six.
“To tell somebody with serious, chronic, disabling depression that they can only see their therapist every five or six weeks is like telling somebody with a broken leg that they can only see their physical therapist every five or six weeks,” she said. “It’s not enough. It’s not even close to enough.”
Then, this summer, Christina was diagnosed with breast cancer. Everything related to her cancer care — her mammogram, biopsy, surgery appointments — happened promptly (like a “well-oiled machine,” she said), while her depression care stumbled along.
“It is a hot mess,” she said. “I need to be in therapy — I have cancer! And still nothing has changed.”
A new law signed by Gov. Gavin Newsom in October aims to fix this problem for Californians. Senate Bill 221, which passed the state legislature with a nearly unanimous vote, requires health insurers across the state to reduce wait times for mental health care to no more than 10 business days. Six other states — including Colorado, Maryland and Texas — have similar laws limiting wait times.
At Kaiser Permanente, the state’s largest insurance company, 87% of therapists said weekly appointments were not available to patients who needed them, according to a 2020 survey by the National Union of Healthcare Workers, which represents KP therapists — and was the main sponsor of the California wait times legislation.
“It just feels so unethical,” said triage therapist Brandi Plumley, referring to the typical two-month wait time she sees at Kaiser Permanente’s mental health clinic in Vallejo, east of San Francisco.
Every day, she takes multiple crisis calls from patients who have therapists assigned to them but can’t get in to see them, she said, describing the providers’ caseloads as “enormous.”
“It’s heartbreaking. And it eats on me day after day after day,” Plumley said. “What Kaiser simply needs to do is hire more clinicians.”
Kaiser Permanente says there just aren’t enough therapists out there to hire. KP is an integrated system — it is a health provider and insurance company under one umbrella — and has struggled to fill 300 job vacancies in clinical behavioral health, according to a statement from Yener Balan, the insurer’s Northern California vice president of behavioral health.
Hiring more clinicians won’t solve the problem, said Balan, who suggested that sustaining one-on-one therapy for all who want it in the future wouldn’t be possible in the current system: “We all must reimagine our approach to the existing national model of care.”
Kaiser Permanente lodged concerns about the wait times bill when it was introduced. And the trade group representing insurers in the state, the California Association of Health Plans, opposed it, saying the shortage of therapists would make meeting the two-week mandate too difficult.
“The COVID-19 pandemic has only exacerbated this workforce shortage, and demand for these services significantly increased,” said Jedd Hampton, a lobbyist for the California Association of Health Plans, in testimony during a state Senate hearing for the bill in the spring.
“Simply put, mandating increased frequency of appointments without addressing the underlying workforce shortage will not lead to increased quality of care,” Hampton said.
Lawmakers pushed back. State Sen. Scott Wiener (D-San Francisco), who authored the bill, accused insurers of overstating the shortage. State Sen. Connie Leyva (D-Chino) said that the therapeutic providers are out there but that insurers are responsible for recruiting them into their networks by paying higher rates and reducing administrative burdens.
If insurers want more young people to enter the mental health care profession, they must improve salaries and working conditions now, said state Sen. Richard Pan (D-Sacramento). (A 2016 KQED investigation uncovered multiple ways that insurers save money by keeping provider networks artificially small.)
As bipartisan support for the bill grew in Sacramento, insurers withdrew their formal opposition.
But whether other states have the political will, or the resources, to legislate a similar solution is unclear, said Hemi Tewarson, executive director of the nonpartisan National Academy for State Health Policy in Washington, D.C. Although California may be able to force insurers to hire more therapists, she said, places like New Mexico, Montana, Wyoming, and parts of the South don’t have enough therapists at any price.
“They don’t have the providers, so you could fine the insurers as much as you want, you’re not going to be able to, in the short term, make up those wait times if they already exist,” she said.
The new California law is a solid step toward improving access to mental health care, with communities of color standing to benefit the most, said Lonnie Snowden, a professor of health policy and management at the University of California-Berkeley. African Americans, Asian Americans and Latinos face the most barriers getting into care, Snowden said, and when people of color do come in for treatment, they are more likely to drop out.
Oversight and enforcement are needed for the new rules to work, said Keith Humphreys, a psychiatry professor at Stanford University. Kaiser Permanente has data systems that can track the time between appointments, but other insurers set up contracts with therapists in private practice, who manage their own caseloads and schedules.
“Who would keep track of whether people who’ve been seen once were seen again in 10 days, when it’s hard enough just to keep track of how many providers we have and who they are seeing?” he asked.
Questions like that one will fall to state regulators, primarily the California Department of Managed Health Care. The department has fined insurers $6.9 million since 2013 for violating state standards, including a $4 million penalty against Kaiser Permanente for excessive wait times for mental health care. Previous state law required insurers to provide initial mental health care appointments within 10 days, and the new law clarifies that they must do the same for follow-up appointments.
Greta Christina, who gets her care at a Kaiser Permanente facility, said she is desperate for the new law to start working. It takes effect on July 1, 2022. Christina thought about paying out-of-pocket in the meantime, to find a therapist she could see more often. But in a cancer crisis, she said, starting over with someone new would be too hard. So she’s waiting.
“Knowing that this bill is on the horizon has been helping me hang on,” she said.
This story is part of a partnership that includes KQED, NPR and KHN.
Inspired by their own experiences, plus those of their parents and grandparents, Black entrepreneurs are launching startups that aim to close the cultural gap in health care with technology.
This article was published on Monday, November 29, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
When Ashlee Wisdom launched an early version of her health and wellness website, more than 34,000 users — most of them Black — visited the platform in the first two weeks.
“It wasn’t the most fully functioning platform,” recalled Wisdom, 31. “It was not sexy.”
But the launch was successful. Now, more than a year later, Wisdom’s company, Health in Her Hue, connects Black women and other women of color to culturally sensitive doctors, doulas, nurses and therapists nationally.
As more patients seek culturally competent care — the acknowledgment of a patient’s heritage, beliefs and values during treatment — a new wave of Black tech founders like Wisdom want to help. In the same way Uber Eats and Grubhub revolutionized food delivery, Black tech health startups across the United States want to change how people exercise, how they eat and how they communicate with doctors.
Inspired by their own experiences, plus those of their parents and grandparents, Black entrepreneurs are launching startups that aim to close the cultural gap in health care with technology — and create profitable businesses at the same time.
“One of the most exciting growth opportunities across health innovation is to back underrepresented founders building health companies focusing on underserved markets,” said Unity Stoakes, president and co-founder of StartUp Health, a company headquartered in San Francisco that has invested in a number of health companies led by people of color. He said those leaders have “an essential and powerful understanding of how to solve some of the biggest challenges in health care.”
Platforms created by Black founders for Black people and communities of color continue to blossom because those entrepreneurs often see problems and solutions others might miss. Without diverse voices, entire categories and products simply would not exist in critical areas like health care, business experts say.
“We’re really speaking to a need,” said Kevin Dedner, 45, founder of the mental health startup Hurdle. “Mission alone is not enough. You have to solve a problem.”
Dedner’s company, headquartered in Washington, D.C., pairs patients with therapists who “honor culture instead of ignoring it,” he said. He started the company three years ago, but more people turned to Hurdle after the killing of George Floyd.
In Memphis, Tennessee, Erica Plybeah, 33, is focused on providing transportation. Her company, MedHaul, works with providers and patients to secure low-cost rides to get people to and from their medical appointments. Caregivers, patients or providers fill out a form on MedHaul’s website, then Plybeah’s team helps them schedule a ride.
While MedHaul is for everyone, Plybeah knows people of color, anyone with a low income and residents of rural areas are more likely to face transportation hurdles. She founded the company in 2017 after years of watching her mother take care of her grandmother, who had lost two limbs to Type 2 diabetes. They lived in the Mississippi Delta, where transportation options were scarce.
“For years, my family struggled with our transportation because my mom was her primary transporter,” Plybeah said. “Trying to schedule all of her doctor’s appointments around her work schedule was just a nightmare.”
Plybeah’s company recently received funding from Citi, the banking giant.
“I’m more than proud of her,” said Plybeah’s mother, Annie Steele. “Every step amazes me. What she is doing is going to help people for many years to come.”
Health in Her Hue launched in 2018 with just six doctors on the roster. Two years later, users can download the app at no cost and then scroll through roughly 1,000 providers.
“People are constantly talking about Black women’s poor health outcomes, and that’s where the conversation stops,” said Wisdom, who lives in New York City. “I didn’t see anyone building anything to empower us.”
As her business continues to grow, Wisdom draws inspiration from friends such as Nathan Pelzer, 37, another Black tech founder, who has launched a company in Chicago. Clinify Health works with community health centers and independent clinics in underserved communities. The company analyzes medical and social data to help doctors identify their most at-risk patients and those they haven’t seen in awhile. By focusing on getting those patients preventive care, the medical providers can help them improve their health and avoid trips to the emergency room.
“You can think of Clinify Health as a company that supports triage outside of the emergency room,” Pelzer said.
Pelzer said he started the company by printing out online slideshows he’d made and throwing them in the trunk of his car. “I was driving around the South Side of Chicago, knocking on doors, saying, ‘Hey, this is my idea,’” he said.
Wisdom got her app idea from being so stressed while working a job during grad school that she broke out in hives.
“It was really bad,” Wisdom recalled. “My hand would just swell up, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.”
The breakouts also baffled her allergist, a white woman, who told Wisdom to take two Allegra every day to manage the discomfort. “I remember thinking if she was a Black woman, I might have shared a bit more about what was going on in my life,” Wisdom said.
The moment inspired her to build an online community. Her idea started off small. She found health content in academic journals, searched for eye-catching photos that would complement the text and then posted the information on Instagram.
Things took off from there. This fall, Health in Her Hue launched “care squads” for users who want to discuss their health with doctors or with other women interested in the same topics.
“The last thing you want to do when you go into the doctor’s office is feel like you have to put on an armor and feel like you have to fight the person or, like, you know, be at odds with the person who’s supposed to be helping you on your health journey,” Wisdom said. “And that’s oftentimes the position that Black people, and largely also Black women, are having to deal with as they’re navigating health care. And it just should not be the case.”
As Black tech founders, Wisdom, Dedner, Pelzer and Plybeah look for ways to support one another by trading advice, chatting about funding and looking for ways to come together. Pelzer and Wisdom met a few years ago as participants in a competition sponsored by Johnson & Johnson. They reconnected at a different event for Black founders of technology companies and decided to help each other.
“We’re each other’s therapists,” Pelzer said. “It can get lonely out here as a Black founder.”
In the future, Plybeah wants to offer transportation services and additional assistance to people caring for aging family members. She also hopes to expand the service to include dropping off customers for grocery and pharmacy runs, workouts at gyms and other basic errands.
Pelzer wants Clinify Health to make tracking health care more fun — possibly with incentives to keep users engaged. He is developing plans and wants to tap into the same competitive energy that fitness companies do.
Wisdom wants to support physicians who seek to improve their relationships with patients of color. The company plans to build a library of resources that professionals could use as a guide.
“We’re not the first people to try to solve these problems,” Dedner said. Yet he and the other three feel the pressure to succeed for more than just themselves and those who came before them.
“I feel like, if I fail, that’s potentially going to shut the door for other Black women who are trying to build in this space,” Wisdom said. “But I try not to think about that too much.”
Sen. Rick Scott (R-Fla.) issued a press release Nov. 16 suggesting that rising general inflation was behind the large increase in next year’s standard premiums for Medicare Part B.
This article was published on Wednesday, November 24, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
An increase in Medicare Part B premiums means “America’s Seniors Are Paying the Price for Biden’s Inflation Crisis.” — The headline of a press release from Sen. Rick Scott (R-Fla.)
Republicans blame President Joe Biden for this year’s historic surge in inflation, reflected in higher prices for almost everything — from cars and gas to food and housing. They see last month’s 6.2% annual inflation rate — the highest in decades and mostly driven by an increase in consumer spending and supply issues related to the covid-19 pandemic — as a ticket to taking back control of Congress in next year’s midterm elections.
A key voting bloc will be older Americans, and the GOP aims to illustrate how much worse life has grown for them under the Biden administration.
Sen. Rick Scott (R-Fla.) issued a press release Nov. 16 suggesting that rising general inflation was behind the large increase in next year’s standard premiums for Medicare Part B, which covers physician and some drug costs and other outpatient services.
“Sen. Rick Scott: America’s Seniors Are Paying the Price for Biden’s Inflation Crisis” was the headline. The senator’s statement within that press release said, “We need to be LOWERING health care and drug prices and strengthening this vital program for seniors and future generations, not crippling the system and leaving families to pay the cost.” The press release from Scott says he is “slamming Biden’s inaction to address the inflation crisis he and Washington Democrats have created with reckless spending and socialist policies, which is expected to cause significant price increases on [senior] citizens and Medicare recipients.” Scott’s statement in that same press release also says the administration’s “reckless spending” will leave U.S. seniors “paying HUNDREDS more for the care they need.”
We wondered whether these points were true. Was the climbing annual inflation rate over the past several months to blame for the increase in Medicare Part B premiums?
We reached out to Scott’s office for more detail but received no reply. Upon further investigation, we found there is little, if any, connection between general inflation in the past few months and the increase in Medicare Part B premiums.
What’s the Status of Medicare Premiums?
Medicare Part B premiums have been growing steadily for decades to keep up with rising health spending.
The U.S. inflation rate, for years held at bay, has been above 4% since April, hitting 6.2% in October, the highest rate in decades.
On Nov. 12, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services announced that the standard monthly premium for Medicare Part B would rise to $170.10 in 2022, from $148.50 this year. The 14.5% increase is the largest one-year increase in the program’s history.
Scott’s press release refers to the CMS report.
CMS cited three main factors for the increase: rising health care costs, a move by Congress last year that held the premium increase to just $3 a month because of the pandemic, and the need to raise money for a possible unprecedented surge in drug costs. Inflation was not on that list.
In fact, half of the premium increase was due to making sure the program was ready in case Medicare next year decides to start covering Aduhelm, a new Alzheimer’s drug priced at $56,000 per year, per patient. It’s been estimated that total Medicare spending for the drug for one year alone would be nearly $29 billion, far more than any other drug.
How Big a Hit Will Seniors Feel?
The Part B premium is typically subtracted automatically from enrollees’ Social Security checks. Because Social Security recipients will receive a 5.9% cost-of-living increase next year — about $91 monthly for the average beneficiary — they’ll still see a net gain, though a chunk will be eaten away by the hike in Medicare premiums.
About 70% of Medicare beneficiaries won’t face a 14.5% increase, anyway, because a “hold-harmless” provision in federal law protects them from premium increases that exceed Social Security’s cost-of-living increase, said Gretchen Jacobson, a vice president of the nonpartisan Commonwealth Fund. So their increase will be limited to 5.9%.
Those not covered by the hold-harmless provision are mainly high-income beneficiaries (people with incomes over $91,000 for individuals), those newly enrolled in Medicare Part B, people who receive both Medicaid and Medicare, and enrollees not receiving Social Security because they are still working.
What Role Does Inflation Play?
Several Medicare experts said the spike in the general inflation rate has little or nothing to do with the Medicare premium increase. In fact, Medicare is largely immune from inflation, because the program sets prices for hospitals and doctors.
“This is so false that it is annoying,” Paul Ginsburg, a professor of health policy at the Sol Price School of Public Policy at the University of Southern California, said of Scott’s claim that general inflation is behind the premium increase. “The effect of the inflation spike so far on prices is zero because Medicare controls prices.”
Medicare Part B premiums, he said, reflect changes in the amount of health services delivered and a more expensive mix of drugs. “Premiums are tracking spending, only a portion of which reflects prices,” Ginsburg said. “I can’t see that the administration really had any discretion” in setting the premium increase due to the need to build a reserve to pay for the Alzheimer’s drug and make up for the reduced increase last year, he said.
Stephen Zuckerman, co-director of the Urban Institute’s health policy center, said a rise in wages caused by inflation could spur a small boost in Medicare spending because wages help determine how much the program pays providers. But, he said, such an increase would have to occur for more than a few months to affect premiums. Continued soaring inflation could influence 2023 Medicare premiums, not those for 2022. “The claim that premium increases are due to inflation in the last couple of months doesn’t make sense,” Zuckerman said.
CMS faced the challenge of trying to estimate costs for an expensive drug not yet covered by Medicare. “It is a very difficult projection to make, and they want to have enough contingency reserved,” said Jacobson, of the Commonwealth Fund.
Still, the 5.9% jump that will hit most enrollees is a relatively large premium increase, she added. Those beneficiaries will see an $8.76 monthly increase in premiums, or about $105 more for all of 2022.
Our Ruling
Scott said in a press release about the 2022 increase in Medicare Part B premiums that “America’s seniors are paying the price for Biden’s inflation crisis.”
Though his statement contains a sliver of truth, Scott’s assertion ignores critical facts that create a different impression.
For instance, Medicare policy experts said, current general inflation has little, if anything, to do with the increase in premiums. CMS said the increase was needed to put away money in case Medicare starts paying for an Alzheimer’s drug that could add tens of billions in costs in one year and to make up for congressional action last year that held down premiums.
And most seniors will not pay hundreds of dollars more for premiums because of the hold-harmless provision. About 30% of Medicare enrollees — those with high incomes and those who do not receive Social Security — will have to pay the full $21.60 a month, or about $259 for 2022, a 14.5% increase. People in this category either have higher incomes or are not yet receiving Social Security because they are still working.
The other 70% of enrollees will face a 5.9%, or $8.76 a month, increase. This means most Medicare enrollees will see a $105 increase in premiums for all of 2022, not hundreds of dollars.
We rate the claim Mostly False.
SOURCES:
Telephone interview with Stephen Zuckerman, co-director of the Health Policy Center at the Urban Institute, Nov. 19, 2021.
Telephone interview with Paul Ginsburg, professor of health policy at the Sol Price School of Public Policy at the University of Southern California, Nov. 18, 2021.
Telephone interview with Gretchen Jacobson, vice president of the Medicare program at the Commonwealth Fund, Nov. 18, 2021.
Telephone interview with Joe Antos, senior fellow with American Enterprise Institute, Nov. 18, 2021.
The decisions have been gut-wrenching. Should she try another round of chemotherapy, even though she barely tolerated the last one? Should she continue eating, although it’s getting difficult? Should she take more painkillers, even if she ends up heavily sedated?
Dr. Susan Massad, 83, has been making these choices with a group of close friends and family — a “health team” she created in 2014 after learning her breast cancer had metastasized to her spine. Since then, doctors have found cancer in her colon and pancreas, too.
Now, as Massad lies dying at home in New York City, the team is focused on how she wants to live through her final weeks. It’s understood this is a mutual concern, not hers alone. Or, as Massad told me, “Health is about more than the individual. It’s something that people do together.”
Originally, five of Massad’s team members lived with her in a Greenwich Village brownstone she bought with friends in 1993. They are in their 60s or 70s and have known one another a long time. Earlier this year, Massad’s two daughters and four other close friends joined the team when she was considering another round of chemotherapy.
Massad ended up saying “no” to that option in September after weighing the team’s input and consulting with a physician who researches treatments on her behalf. Several weeks ago, she stopped eating — a decision she also made with the group. A hospice nurse visits weekly, and an aide comes five hours a day.
Anyone with a question or concern is free to raise it with the team, which meets now “as needed.” The group does not exist just for Massad, explained Kate Henselmans, her partner, “it’s about our collective well-being.” And it’s not just about team members’ medical conditions; it’s about “wellness” much more broadly defined.
Massad, a primary care physician, first embraced the concept of a “health team” in the mid-1980s, when a college professor she knew was diagnosed with metastatic cancer. Massad was deeply involved in community organizing in New York City, and this professor was part of those circles. A self-professed loner, the professor said she wanted deeper connections to other people during the last stage of her life.
Massad joined with the woman’s social therapist and two of her close friends to provide assistance. (Social therapy is a form of group therapy.) Over the next three years, they helped manage the woman’s physical and emotional symptoms, accompanied her to doctors’ visits and mobilized friends to make sure she was rarely alone.
As word got out about this “let’s do this together” model, dozens of Massad’s friends and colleagues formed health teams lasting from a few months to a few years. Each is unique, but they all revolve around the belief that illness is a communal experience and that significant emotional growth remains possible for all involved.
“Most health teams have been organized around people who have fairly serious illness, and their overarching goal is to help people live the most fulfilling life, the most giving life, the most social life they can, given that reality,” Massad told me. An emphasis on collaborative decision-making distinguishes them from support groups.
Emilie Knoerzer, 68, who lives next door to Massad and Henselmans and is a member of the health team, gives an example from a couple of years ago. She and her partner, Sandy Friedman, were fighting often and “that was bad for the health of the whole house,” she told me. “So, the whole house brought us together and said, ‘‘This isn’t going well, let’s help you work on this.’ And if we started getting into something, we’d go ask someone for help. And it’s much better for us now.”
Mary Fridley, 67, a close friend of Massad’s and another health team member, offered another example. After experiencing serious problems with her digestive system this past year, she pulled together a health team to help her make sense of her experiences with the medical system. None of the many doctors Fridley consulted could tell her what was wrong, and she felt enormous stress as a result.
“My team asked me to journal and to keep track of what I was eating and how I was responding. That was helpful,” Fridley told me. “We worked on my not being so defensive and humiliated every time I went to the doctor. At some point, I said, ‘All I want to do is cry,’ and we cried together for a long time. And it wasn’t just me. Other people shared what was going on for them as well.”
Dr. Hugh Polk, a psychiatrist who’s known Massad for 40 years, calls her a “health pioneer” who practiced patient-centered care long before it became a buzzword. “She would tell patients, ‘We’re going to work together as partners in creating your health. I have expertise as a doctor, but I want to hear from you. I want you to tell me how you feel, what your symptoms are, what your life is like,’” he said.
As Massad’s end has drawn near, the hardest but most satisfying part of her teamwork is “sharing emotionally what I’m going through and allowing other people to share with me. And asking for help. Those aren’t things that come easy,” she told me by phone conversation.
“It’s very challenging to watch her dying,” said her daughter Jessica Massad, 54. “I don’t know how people do this on their own.”
Every day, a few people inside or outside her house stop by to read to Massad or listen to music with her — a schedule her team is overseeing. “It is a very intimate experience, and Susan feels loved so much,” said Henselmans.
For Massad, being surrounded by this kind of support is freeing. “I don’t feel compelled to keep living just because my friends want me to,” she said. “We cry together, we feel sad together, and that can be difficult. But I feel so well taken care of, not alone at all with what I’m going through.”
Doctor groups and medical associations have lashed out at the interim final rules that HHS unveiled last month, saying they favor insurance companies in the arbitration phase.
This article was published on Tuesday, November 23, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
Overpriced doctors and other medical providers who can’t charge a reasonable rate for their services could be put out of business when new rules against surprise medical bills take effect in January, and that’s a good thing, Health and Human Services Secretary Xavier Becerra told KHN, in defending the regulations.
The proposed rules represent the Biden administration’s plan to carry out the No Surprises Act, which Congress passed to spare patients from the shockingly high bills they get when one or more of their providers unexpectedly turn out to be outside their insurance plan’s network.
The law shields patients from those bills, requiring providers and insurers to work out how much the physicians or hospitals should be paid, first through negotiation and then, if they can’t agree, arbitration. Doctor groups and medical associations, however, have lashed out at the interim final rules that HHS unveiled last month, saying they favor insurance companies in the arbitration phase. That’s because, although the rules tell arbiters to take many factors into account, they are instructed to start with a benchmark largely determined by insurers: the median rate negotiated for similar services among in-network providers.
The doctor groups say giving the insurers the upper hand will let them drive payment rates down and potentially force doctors out of networks or even out of business, reducing access to health care.
The department has heard those concerns, Becerra said, but the bottom line is protecting patients. Medical providers who have taken advantage of a complicated system to charge exorbitant rates will have to bear their share of the cost, or close if they can’t, he said.
“I don’t think when someone is overcharging, that it’s going to hurt the overcharger to now have to [accept] a fair price,” Becerra said. “Those who are overcharging either have to tighten their belt and do it better, or they don’t last in the business.”
“It’s not fair to say that we have to let someone gouge us in order for them to be in business,” he added.
Nonetheless, Becerra said he did not foresee a wave of closures, or diminished access for consumers. Instead, he suggested that a competitive, market-driven process will find a balance, especially when consumers know better what they are paying for.
“We’re willing to pay a fair price,” he said. But he emphasized that “I’ll pay for the best, but I don’t want to have to pay for the best and then three times more on top of that and get blindsided by the bill.”
Becerra also pointed to a report on surprise medical bills that HHS released Monday and that was provided to KHN in advance, highlighting the impacts of negotiation and arbitration laws already in effect in 18 states.
The report, which aggregates previous research, found people getting hit with surprise bills averaging $1,219 for anesthesiologists, $2,633 for surgical assistants, $744 for childbirth and north of $24,000 for air ambulances.
In the states that use benchmarks similar to what doctors are suggesting HHS use, such as New York and New Jersey, the report found costs rising. New York has a “baseball-style” system in which the arbiter chooses between the offers presented by the provider and the insurer, although the arbiter is told to consider the offer closest to the 80th percentile of charges. “Since the amount providers charge is typically much higher than the actual negotiated rate, this approach risks leading to significantly higher overall costs,” the report found. In New Jersey, billed charges or “usual and customary” rates are considered.
“When the arbitration process is wide open, no boundaries, at the end of the day health care costs go up, not down,” Becerra said of the methods doctors prefer. “We want costs to go down. And so we want to set up a system that helps provide the guideposts to keep us efficient, transparent and cost-effective.”
The system chosen by the Biden administration was expected to push insurance premiums down by 0.5% to 1%, the Congressional Budget Office estimated.
“Everyone has to give a little to get to a good place,” Becerra said. “That sweet spot, I hope, is one where patients … are extracted from that food fight. And if there continues to be a food fight, the arbitration process will help settle it in a way that is efficient, but it also will lead to lower costs.”
While the administration chose a benchmark that physician and hospital groups don’t like, the law does specify that other factors should be considered, such as a provider’s experience, the market and the complexity of a case. Becerra said those factors help ensure arbitration is fair.
“What we simply did was set up a rule that says, ‘Show the evidence,’” Becerra said. “It has to be relevant, material evidence. And let the best person win in that fight in arbitration.”
The interim final rules were published Oct. 7, giving stakeholders 60 days to comment and seek changes. More than 150 members of Congress, many of them doctors, have asked HHS and other relevant federal agencies to reconsider before the law takes effect Jan. 1. The lawmakers charge that the administration is not adhering to the spirit of the compromises Congress made in passing the law.
Rules that are this far along tend to go into effect with little or no changes, but Becerra said his department was still listening. “If we think there’s a need to make any changes, we are prepared to do so,” the secretary said.
The HHS report also noted that the law requires extensive monthly and annual reporting to regulators and Congress to determine if the regulations are out of whack or have undesirable consequences like those the physicians are warning of.
Becerra said he thinks the rules strike the right balance, favoring not insurers or doctors, but the people who need medical care.
“We want it to be transparent, so we can lead to more competition, and keep costs low — not just for the payer, the insurer, not just for the provider, the hospital or doctor, but for the patients especially,” he said.