Many observers question the value, timing and legality of Trump's drug card plan, with the promise coming just ahead of an election in which the president wants to shore up the support of older voters.
This article was published on Friday, October 30, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
If they’ve been listening to President Donald Trump, seniors may be expecting a $200 debit card in the mail any day now to help them pay for prescription drugs.
He promised as much this month, saying his administration soon will mail the drug cards to more than 35 million Medicare beneficiaries.
But the cards — if they are ever sent — would be of little help. Policy experts say that what Medicare beneficiaries really need, as well as younger Americans, are sweeping federal changes to close the gap between what their health insurance pays and what drugs cost them.
The nation’s 46.5 million enrollees in Medicare’s Part D prescription drug program — except for those who qualify for low-income subsidies — face unlimited out-of-pocket exposure to drug costs even though the Affordable Care Act finally closed the infamous “doughnut hole.” After Part D enrollees have spent $6,550 and reached the catastrophic threshold in a given year, they still must pay 5% coinsurance on the list price of their drugs.
Congress was considering legislation to lower drug prices and cap out-of-pocket costs until early this year, when the COVID-19 pandemic took center stage. But partisan disagreement, federal budget concerns and opposition from drug manufacturers and other health care industry groups hampered the efforts.
Many observers question the value, timing and legality of Trump’s drug card plan, with the promise coming just ahead of an election in which the president wants to shore up the support of older voters.
“A $200 card is better than a sharp stick in the eye, but it won’t be that meaningful,” said Tom Scully, the Medicare chief under President George W. Bush who in 2004 implemented a two-year, $1,200 drug card program passed by Congress as part of the law creating the Part D prescription drug benefit.
Two hundred dollars won’t go very far. One million Part D plan enrollees have out-of-pocket drug spending way above the program’s catastrophic coverage threshold, with average annual costs exceeding $3,200, according to KFF. (KHN is an editorially independent program of KFF.) Last year, Part D enrollees’ average out-of-pocket cost for 11 orally administered cancer drugs was $10,470, according to a 2019 JAMA study.
“A lot of people don’t have $2,000 or $3,000 to pay out-of-pocket when they go to the pharmacy,” said Stacie Dusetzina, a drug policy expert at Vanderbilt University.
Steven Hadfield, 68, of Charlotte, North Carolina, has a rare blood cancer requiring treatment with Imbruvica, with a list price of $132,000 a year. He also needs two different medications for Type 2 diabetes, including insulin at $300 a bottle, a blood pressure drug and a muscle relaxer to relieve leg cramps.
He continues to work at Walmart and holds three part-time jobs. He pays more than $4,000 a year for his drugs, out of his $12-an-hour wages and monthly $1,100 Social Security check. The only way he can afford Imbruvica is through the manufacturer’s copay cards.
If he left his Walmart health plan and signed up for Medicare Part D drug coverage, he would have to pay thousands of dollars more because, under Medicare rules, he would no longer be able to use copay cards. “My whole Social Security check would go to drugs, and I’d have nothing left for my car or anything,” he said
Asked about Trump’s $200 drug card, Hadfield said, “I’d be happy to get anything, but they need to do more. Our representatives need to create some kind of program to lower prices.”
The Republican-controlled Senate refused to consider a sweeping drug cost bill passed by House Democrats a year ago that would have capped Part D out-of-pocket costs at $2,000 a year, penalized drugmakers for raising prices above inflation rates and let Medicare negotiate drug prices. Trump threatened to veto it.
In addition, Senate Republican leaders wouldn’t take up a bipartisan bill backed by the White House capping Part D out-of-pocket costs at $3,100 and also imposing penalties for price hikes above inflation.
The lack of action hasn’t stopped Trump from claiming, mostly inaccurately, that he has implemented policies that have reduced drug prices and saved seniors lots of money.
“Day after day I’m fighting to defend seniors from Big Pharma,” Trump said Oct. 16 in a Florida speech promising drug price cuts of 50% to 80%. “We have this terrible system that’s taken years and years to rig.”
The president’s centerpiece proposal is to index the drug prices paid by Medicare to lower prices paid by foreign countries. But his administration has not yet issued a rule to carry that out, and any such rule would face a strong legal challenge from drugmakers.
Joe Biden’s drug cost platform includes allowing Medicare to negotiate prices with drug manufacturers, limiting launch prices for new drugs, capping price increases at the inflation rate and letting consumers buy cheaper medicines from other countries. His plan would also likely spark opposition from drug companies.
Trump’s $200 drug card appears to be in trouble within his own administration. White House chief of staff Mark Meadows said last week that details will be finalized shortly and that the cards will be mailed to seniors in November or December.
But the general counsel of the Department of Health and Human Services warned in an internal memo the plan could violate election law. Congressional Democrats have called for an investigation, saying Trump is “attempting to buy votes.”
In a draft document obtained by Politico, the White House set the cost of the drug card plan at nearly $8 billion. To avoid having to seek congressional approval for the expenditure, Trump’s advisers want to call it a demonstration project, testing whether lowering Medicare patients’ out-of-pocket drug costs boosts their compliance in taking medications.
It’s also unclear whether the Office of Management and Budget will approve the plan because Medicare demonstrations must be designed so they do not increase the federal budget deficit. Yet the money would have to come from the government’s general revenues or Medicare payroll taxes or premiums, likely causing a negative budget impact.
“It will be difficult to learn anything from this demonstration project that we do not already know from other studies,” Dusetzina said.
“It’s a whole lot of money that would be more effectively focused on people with cancer and serious chronic illnesses who are struggling with high out-of-pockets,” said Daniel Klein, CEO of the Patient Access Network Foundation, which provides grants to help patients with drug costs.
Maureen Allen, 80, a retired marketing specialist who lives in Talking Rock, Georgia, said she could apply the $200 card to her annual cost of more than $2,000 for the anti-blood clot drug Eliquis and other medicines.
“It would help me with one month of Eliquis,” she said. “We’ll take the card because we need the money. But don’t think for a moment it will have the slightest impact on my vote.”
By associating their Republican opponents with the out-of-control coronavirus pandemic and threats to the Affordable Care Act, they hope to convince voters the Democratic Party is the one that can better protect Americans' health.
In a tweet to his 78,000 followers Sunday, U.S. Rep. Harley Rouda, a Democrat from Orange County, California, described his Republican opponent Michelle Steel’s attendance at an indoor fundraiser without a mask as “sickening.”
Democratic U.S. Rep. Gil Cisneros also blasted his Republican opponent, Young Kim, on Twitter for attending the “superspreader fundraiser,” calling it a “slap in the face to frontline workers” and his constituents in southern Los Angeles County and northern Orange County.
After President Trump’s superspreader event in Orange County last week, @YoungKimCA decided to host her own. The superspreader fundraiser—a crowded, indoor event with no social distancing/no masks—goes against CDC guidelines. It’s a slap in the face to frontline workers & #CA39. pic.twitter.com/1z2wd5Ohj4
Earlier in the month, another Democrat, U.S. Rep. TJ Cox of Bakersfield, told a television debate audience that his GOP challenger, David Valadao, “is in lockstep with Donald Trump” and that Valadao aims to undo federal health protections.
These charges by incumbent lawmakers — who represent vast areas of California, from its inland farmlands to its coastal mansions and urban working-class neighborhoods — reflect a disciplined and widely used strategy Democratic congressional hopefuls are deploying across California and the nation: By associating their Republican opponents with the out-of-control coronavirus pandemic and threats to the Affordable Care Act, they hope to convince voters the Democratic Party is the one that can better protect Americans’ health.
In doing so, they are linking their challengers to President Donald Trump, who is deeply unpopular in the Golden State, with just 32% of likely voters approving of the way he is handling his job, according to a recent Public Policy Institute of California survey.
“Democrats have been able to tie the national conversation around the coronavirus pandemic with health care and with the economy and social unrest,” said David McCuan, a political science professor at California State University-Sonoma. “That allows Democrats to turn or hold individual districts.”
But the strategy isn’t a slam-dunk for Democrats, especially in the districts they flipped in 2018 — including seven in California. Despite the changing demographics in the once Republican strongholds of Orange County and the Central Valley, McCuan and other political analysts said Republican victories are possible if even a small number of residents who voted Democratic in 2018 swung back to the GOP.
Republicans have already taken back one of those seats. U.S. Rep. Mike Garcia (R-Santa Clarita) beat Christy Smith in a May special election — 55% to 45% — to fill the vacancy left after Katie Hill resigned from Congress amid allegations of inappropriate relationships with staff members. Voters in the district that includes Santa Clarita and Simi Valley will pick between the same two candidates in Tuesday’s election.
In these competitive districts, political analysts say the winner will come down to voter turnout and Trump’s approval ratings, which is now inextricably tied to his handling of the public health crisis. Nationwide, 26 congressional seats are ranked as toss-ups, according to the Cook Political Report, which tracks races.
“A lot of it’s about the president,” said Wesley Hussey, a political science professor at California State University-Sacramento. “And part of the component of the presidential election is health care, and that does trickle down to congressional races.”
Calls to the state Republican Party and the National Republican Congressional Committee were not returned. And none of the Republican challengers to the Democrats interviewed for this story responded to repeated interview requests.
In California’s southern Central Valley congressional district currently held by Cox, political analysts predict another nail-biter. Cox ousted Valadao from Congress in the last election by just 862 votes, in part by tying the three-term incumbent to Trump and criticizing Valadao’s votes to overturn the Affordable Care Act.
Now, Cox has added Trump’s handling of the pandemic as a reason for voters to reject Valadao again.
“He is in lockstep with Donald Trump,” Cox charged in a televised debate Oct. 20. “And I don’t know how you can stand behind a guy that’s saying, ‘Hey, we did a fantastic job and 200,000 Americans have died so far.’”
In the recent poll by the Public Policy Institute of California, California voters rated COVID-19 as the state’s top concern.
The tweets that Cisneros and Rouda penned Sunday, which included photos of their opponents at a fundraiser without masks, capitalize on that concern. Rouda, for example, reminded voters that his opponent, as the head of the Orange County Board of Supervisors, publicly questioned the local public health officer’s springtime recommendation that residents wear masks.
“Michelle Steel is Orange County’s top official and she violated public health orders to attend an indoor, maskless fundraiser just to receive a check,” Rouda told California Healthline on Monday. “The example she is setting shows that she lacks the leadership needed for her current position and the position she’s running for.”
Steel spokesperson Lance Trover accused Rouda of politicizing the pandemic, saying Steel has helped secure personal protective equipment for front-line workers, and food assistance and testing for the county’s most vulnerable residents.
Steel has publicly criticized Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom for opening California’s economy too slowly, and her campaign has shared photos of Rouda socializing on a beach and in a restaurant without a mask. (Rouda said the only other people in the beach photo were close family members, and that the restaurant photo was taken before the pandemic.)
“Harley Rouda is a hypocrite who has spent the entire summer seeking to politicize the work of Orange County in battling the coronavirus,” Trover said.
While wearing a mask may resonate in California’s swing districts, there remain solidly red areas of California where defying a government mandate can score a candidate political points. U.S. Rep. Tom McClintock, a Republican who represents a sprawling conservative district spanning multiple northern and central counties, has called masks useless, balked at wearing one at a congressional hearing and asserted that state lockdowns have led to increased deaths.
So in addition to focusing on McClintock’s COVID response, his opponent, Brynne Kennedy, a first-time candidate and small-business owner, is targeting another health issue: his opposition to the ACA.
In her travels throughout the mostly rural district, Kennedy is highlighting his votes — 66 by her count — to weaken or overturn the Affordable Care Act.
“This is radically out of step with where our district is,” said Kennedy, whom political analysts describe as a long-shot candidate. “Talking about that to people, that’s very concerning to them, and it’s absolutely on the ballot this year.”
Kennedy’s focus on protecting the federal health care law, particularly preserving access to insurance for people with preexisting medical conditions, mirrors the messaging of her fellow Democrats.
And it’s putting a lot of Republicans on the defense, especially with Trump on the campaign trail advocating for the repeal of the Affordable Care Act, said GOP political consultant Rob Stutzman.
“Republicans are making a point of telling voters that they will support protecting preexisting conditions,” Stutzman said. “It’s clearly a vulnerability.”
U.S. Rep. Josh Harder (D-Modesto) has been talking about preexisting conditions since he first campaigned for his seat two years ago, referencing his brother’s health issues as a young child. He believes health care is once again the single-biggest issue in his race.
But Harder has recrafted his pitch from 2018, when he talked about backing “Medicare for All,” a position now seen as a vulnerability in swing districts where Republicans have labeled their opponents as liberal or socialist.
Now, Harder and other Democrats are talking about shoring up the ACA and creating a “public option” that would allow every American to enroll in a government-sponsored plan.
Harder said he is asking voters to reelect him to ensure Congress has the votes to protect the federal health care law if the Supreme Court invalidates it.
“We need to make sure that people understand that the stakes couldn’t be higher,” he said. “The only way that we get a legislative solution that prioritizes people with asthma, cancer and other preexisting conditions is if we elect Democrats to the House, to the Senate and the presidency.”
Democrats are favored to win both chambers of Congress after years of campaign-trail promises about healthcare. But with a pandemic, a more conservative Supreme Court and lingering disagreements between progressives and moderates, it could be difficult for Democrats to turn those promises into law.
In the final days of the campaign, COVID-19 and the threat posed to the Affordable Care Act and Roe v. Wade by the court's bolstered conservative majority are consuming congressional Democrats — right down to keeping them in Washington well after they would usually go home to campaign.
Even if they capture the Senate in this election, Democrats are not expected to win a decisive enough majority to pass bills without some support from the GOP. The Senate's filibuster rules could force Democrats to stick to legislation that can attract 60 votes — if they do not move to eliminate that requirement, as some are advocating.
Frederick Isasi, executive director of Families USA, a health consumer-focused organization that supported passage of the ACA more than a decade ago, said a slim margin could make it "exponentially more difficult" to pass major healthcare legislation.
Although progressives are pushing for more dramatic changes, Isasi said Democrats would have to consider, in particular, which measures their senators who won close races in more conservative states could support.
"There's going to be a lot of focus on making sure that they can support this because the vote will be so tight," he said.
Democrats argue that consumers' concerns about healthcare, which led them to secure a House majority two years ago, will drive them to White House and Senate victories this fall. It has been 10 years since Democrats controlled both chambers of Congress and the White House. One week before the election, the political modeling website FiveThirtyEight gave former Vice President Joe Biden and Democrats an 87-in-100 chance of winning the presidency; a 73-in-100 chance of winning the Senate; and a 96-in-100 chance of holding the House.
A recent poll from KFF shows voters preferred Biden's approach to healthcare over President Donald Trump's on every key issue, including handling the pandemic. (KHN is an editorially independent program of KFF.)
Democrats set high expectations early in the presidential campaign, with progressive candidates during the primaries arguing over sweeping proposals for government-funded insurance before Biden won the nomination. He championed a more incremental approach of giving consumers an option to purchase a public insurance plan, which would also be free for some based on need. That plan is now part of the party platform.
But the pandemic, and the Trump administration's decision to largely leave states to manage the health and economic repercussions, has changed the subject. On many popular issues like insuring more Americans and ending the practice of surprise medical billing, Democrats look no closer to agreement than they were months ago — even as the pandemic has made problems worse, with nearly 27 million people losing their employer-sponsored insurance in its first two months.
Sen. Patty Murray of Washington, expected to take over the Senate's health committee if Democrats win, called healthcare affordability "a top priority for Democrats."
"The bottom line for me is that everyone in this country should be able to get the healthcare they need without worrying about the cost — and I think this pandemic and economic crisis have underscored how important that is," Murray said in a statement.
But the disagreements that pitted Biden against progressives like Sens. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) and Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.) during the primaries remain, with the party's more liberal voices pushing for dramatic reforms to drive corporations out of the healthcare system. And in the halls of Congress, Democrats from traditionally "red" states may find fixing the ACA an easier sell than a government-funded public insurance option.
There is a lot of "ideological diversity" among Democrats, said Rodney Whitlock, a healthcare consultant who spent years working as a Republican Senate aide. Although Democrats like to refer to themselves as an inclusive, "big tent party," he said in a recent podcast that such diversity can make it harder to agree and get much done, even if the party is in the majority.
Observers warn the party's calculations could change if Democrats move to eliminate the Senate filibuster, removing one of the minority party's most effective means of opposition.
If Democrats win control of Congress and the White House, there would be "incredible support among Democrats" to eliminate the filibuster to achieve their goals, especially on healthcare, said Robert Blendon, a professor of health policy and public opinion at Harvard University who has a new article on the election in the New England Journal of Medicine.
Democrats will effectively have a year to advance their agenda before the next election, he said, and liberal voters, who make up about 50% of Democratic voters, are angry about how Republicans have managed power and eager to embrace universal health coverage.
Their argument boils down to this: "This is our chance in history, and we're not going to do it because we can't get three votes" in the Senate, Blendon said.
"Policies that currently would have no chance in the Senate could come into play in 2021 if the legislative filibuster is removed," Whitlock recently wrote. If that happens, he added, the healthcare industry would need to reevaluate proposals "that would have once seemed highly theoretical and unlikely."
Without the power to set the agenda or the numbers to pass their proposals, congressional Democrats have spent the Trump presidency telling Americans — in heartbreaking public testimony, impassioned floor speeches and reams of stalled legislation — that they are the party to trust with healthcare.
These days, Democrats are quick to mention the need to shore up the Affordable Care Act, which Republican attorneys general and the Trump administration are seeking to overturn through a case the Supreme Court will hear Nov. 10.
Though even conservative scholars say Republican arguments in the case are weak, Democrats worry the death of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the confirmation of Justice Amy Coney Barrett could endanger the law.
If the ACA is overturned, other legislative priorities likely would fall by the wayside as lawmakers address the potential elimination of coverage and consumer protections affecting millions of Americans.
While in the minority, Democrats have proposed numerous ideas to strengthen the ACA, leaving some measures on the table for Democratic leaders to revisit when in power.
In June, the Democratic-controlled House passed legislation aimed at increasing coverage and affordability, including by capping insurance costs at no more than 8.5% of income. The bill would grant Medicare the authority to negotiate drug prices — drawing from a proposal crafted by House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and House Democratic leaders in 2019 and included in Biden's platform.
That proposal initially ran afoul of progressives, though, who argued they had been cut out of writing the bill and that it was not aggressive enough.
Democrats also have failed to reach a consensus on banning surprise medical billing, which generally occurs when patients receive care unknowingly from a doctor or provider who is not in their insurance network. House Democrats disagreed earlier this year on proposals to solve the problem. A bipartisan proposal in the Senate also stalled, and efforts to ban surprise billing during COVID-19 proved ineffective.
In the meantime, as Democratic candidates talk up ideas like the public option to energize voters as voting draws to a close, Democratic leaders are making less specific promises.
"For the last four years, Donald Trump and Republicans have sabotaged the Affordable Care Act in the hopes of causing our healthcare system to collapse," Sen. Chuck Schumer of New York, the Democratic minority leader, said in a statement. "If we Democrats win back the White House and the majority in the Senate, we will strengthen and improve our healthcare system to make it cheaper and easier for everyday Americans to get the care and coverage they need."
Nursing homes, small physician offices and rural clinics are being left behind in the rush for N95 masks and other protective gear, exposing some of the country's most vulnerable populations and their caregivers to COVID-19 while larger, wealthier health care facilities build equipment stockpiles.
Take Rhonda Bergeron, who owns three health clinics in rural southern Louisiana. She said she's been desperate for personal protective equipment since her clinics became COVID testing sites. Her plight didn't impress national suppliers puzzled by her lack of buying history when she asked for 500 gowns. And one supply company allows her only one box of 200 gloves per 30 days for her three clinics. Right now, she doesn't have any large gloves on-site.
"So in the midst of the whole world shutting down, you can't get PPE to cover your own employees," she said. "They're refilling stuff to larger corporations when realistically we are truly the front line here."
More than eight months into the pandemic, health are leaders are again calling for a coordinated national strategy to distribute personal protective equipment to protect health care workers and their patients as a new wave of disease wells up across most of the country. The demand for such gear, especially in hot spots, can be more than 10 times the pre-pandemic levels. While supply chains have adjusted, and the availability of PPE has improved dramatically since the mayhem of the spring, limited factories and quantities of raw materials still constrain supply amid the ongoing high demand.
In this free-market scramble, larger hospitals and other providers are stockpiling what they can even while others struggle. Some facilities are scooping up supplies to prepare for a feared wave of COVID-19 hospitalizations; others are following new stockpiling laws and orders in states such as California, New York and Connecticut.
"They're putting additional strain on what's still a fragile hospital supply chain," said Soumi Saha, vice president of advocacy for Premier Inc., a group-purchasing organization that procures supplies for over 4,000 U.S. hospitals and health systems of various sizes. "We want available product to go to front-line health care workers and not go into a warehouse right now."
Over a quarter of nursing homes in the country reported a shortageof items such as N95 masks, gloves or gowns from Aug. 24 through Sept. 20. A recent survey from the American Medical Association found 36% of physician offices reported having a difficult time securing PPE. And about 90% of nonprofit Get Us PPE's recent requests for help with protective gear have come from non-hospital facilities, such as nursing homes, group homes and homeless shelters.
"I can completely understand that large health systems don't want to find themselves short on PPE," said Dr. Ali Raja, co-founder of Get Us PPE and executive vice chairman of emergency medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital. "Smaller places simply not only can't stockpile but also can't get enough for their day-to-day usage."
From the outset of the pandemic, the fight for PPE has been about who has had the most money and connections to fly supplies in from China, sweet-talk suppliers or hire people who could spend their time chasing down PPE. At various points, hospitals with sufficient supplies have shared their wealth, as has California, which sent millions of masks to Arizona, Nevada, Oregon and Alaska this summer.
But the fight for PPE is becoming even more challenging as states, such as California, pass stockpiling requirements, Saha said. Premier asked California Gov. Gavin Newsom to veto a bill that requires hospitals, starting in April, to have stockpiles of three months' worth of PPE, or face $25,000 fines. However, Newsom signed the bill into law in September, and Saha worries it could become model legislation for other states.
For an average hospital, a 90-day supply is $2 million worth of equipment filling about 14 truckloads, said Chaun Powell, Premier's group vice president of strategic supplier engagement — or about a football field and a half of warehouse space.
Traditional supply chains were ill equipped to handle the onslaught of demand caused by the pandemic, which has led to the frantic search for PPE. When distributors face such shortages, they rely on past orders to allocate who gets what share of their existing products, so no single buyer buys up everything. Nursing homes and clinics never used this much protective gear in the past, so they lack an ordering history and get put at the back of the line. That has forced many of them to rely on lower-grade masks like KN95s and other workarounds, Saha said.
In Kirksville, a college town in northern Missouri, Twin Pines Adult Care Center Administrator Jim Richardson said his nursing home is running low on gowns. It also is reusing N95s after staffers treat them with UV light. Although major medical supplier Medline Industries has supplied him with extra products at times, he's still had to turn to eBay.
"I'm a little-bitty facility and I'm bidding against a Life Care nationwide," he said. "Guess who Medline is going to take care of?"
COVID-19 cases are rising in Kirksville following the students' return to campus, Richardson said. Visitors are starting to return to the nursing home, and flu season is beginning.
Dr. Michael Wasserman, immediate past president of theCalifornia Association of Long Term Care Medicine, said the lack of supplies for smaller providers like nursing homes speaks to the nation's priorities when it comes to caring for older adults.
"Here we are in October, and the fact that there is not an abundance of PPE for every nursing home in the country is a literal abomination," he said. "Without PPE, you lose to this virus."
Stuart Almer, president and CEO of Gurwin Jewish Nursing & Rehabilitation Center, has managed to scavenge the 60-day stockpile required by New York state law for his facility on Long Island, but it's come at a great financial cost. And he worries that as long as hot spots and stockpiling persist, massive price fluctuations and delivery concerns will continue.
He learned early on no one was coming to save him. Even deliveries from the Federal Emergency Management Agency, which he appreciated, were too small in quantity and not always easy to use. The heavy floor-length gowns it provided needed to be trimmed.
"Really, we're on our own," he said.
American Medical Association President Dr. Susan Bailey said in an emailed statement that federal officials need to step in: "We urge the administration to pull every lever to ramp up PPE production — for N95 masks, gowns, and testing supplies — and coordinate distribution."
Get Us PPE's Raja argued for a more fair, robust, centralized and transparent allocation process that doesn't rely on donations to fill gaps. What good does it do a community to have a hospital stockpile, he asked, when the nursing home down the street has no PPE?
App-based driving services such as Uber, Lyft, DoorDash and Instacart are bankrolling California’s Proposition 22, which would keep their drivers classified as independent contractors, not employees.
Leading into the Nov. 3 election, the ballot measure — which has become the most expensive in state history — is mired in controversy and the subject of a lawsuit from Uber drivers alleging that the company inappropriately pressured them to vote for the initiative.
But what’s occasionally lost in the debate over Proposition 22 are the claims about what it will mean for app-based drivers.
Detractors, like unions and driver advocacy groups, say Proposition 22 would strip drivers of the protections of AB-5, a 2019 California law delayed by legal challenges. The law requires drivers to be classified as employees, which would afford them the associated benefits like paid sick leave, workers’ compensation and access to unemployment insurance.
Supporters, such as ride-sharing companies and the California Chamber of Commerce, say Proposition 22 would give drivers benefits, like a guarantee of minimum earnings and compensation when they are hurt on the job, while allowing them to maintain the flexible schedule of independent contractors.
In an online ad paid for by Lyft, the company says “Prop. 22 will give them … health care benefits.”
That sounds like drivers with Uber, Lyft and other app-based companies will automatically get health insurance if Proposition 22 passes. The truth is a little more complicated.
What Does ‘Health Care Benefits’ Mean?
We reached out to Lyft to back up its claim, and the company directed us to the “Yes on 22” campaign. This is how the campaign explained “health care benefits”:
Under Proposition 22, drivers who qualify — more on that in a minute — would get a stipend they could use to buy an insurance plan from Covered California, the state’s health insurance marketplace.
That stipend would be calculated like this: App-based companies would look at the statewide average monthly premium of bronze-level plans sold on the Covered California exchange.
The companies would then give qualified drivers a stipend of 82% of the average premium, said Geoff Vetter, a spokesperson for the Yes on 22 campaign. (On average, U.S. employers covered 82% of premiums costs for single coverage in 2019.)
So hypothetically, if bronze plans cost an average of $100 per month, Uber, Lyft or a similar company would provide qualifying drivers with $82 per month.
Drivers would be eligible for the full stipend — all $82 in the hypothetical case — if they average 25 hours per week of “engaged” time, which is time spent driving while there’s a passenger in the car. Time spent driving between passengers would not count.
“Most drivers work part time” and spend about one-third of their time waiting for rides and deliveries, according to the nonpartisan state Legislative Analyst’s Office. Using that equation, drivers would need to work an average of 37.5 hours per week for a single company in order to receive the full stipend.
A driver who averages at least 15 but less than 25 hours of engaged time each week would be eligible for 50% of the stipend — or $41 per month.
The stipend would be similar to employer-sponsored insurance because both employers and employees would contribute to the cost of insurance, Vetter said.
“For the people who do work closer to full time, it does give them that ability to receive health care coverage by getting a typical employer contribution for that coverage,” Vetter said.
Does a Stipend Equal Coverage?
But this stipend bears little resemblance to traditional employer-based insurance, which is what drivers would get if they were considered employees instead of gig workers, said Ken Jacobs, chair of the University of California-Berkeley Center for Labor Research and Education.
“It has very, very little relationship to what anyone would think of as job-based coverage,” Jacobs said. “It’s really wrong to think of this as health insurance.”
For instance, under Proposition 22, the stipends would be calculated and distributed quarterly, based on drivers’ hours. That could force drivers to periodically reassess what kind of coverage they would qualify for and could afford.
With traditional employer-sponsored insurance, a driver would enroll in a plan once per year and the premium wouldn’t change.
A vacation or illness could mean that drivers can’t maintain the hours required by the measure, costing them their stipend — and perhaps their insurance — for the quarter, and stripping them of the stability usually associated with job-based coverage, Jacobs said.
And getting money to buy an individual plan isn’t the same as participating in a large group plan offered by an employer, said Jen Flory, a policy advocate at the Western Center on Law & Poverty, a nonprofit organization that advocates for low-income Californians and opposes Proposition 22.
Covered California plans are typically less generous than the policies employees usually get through work, she said. And bronze-level plans, which have the lowest monthly premiums, also have the highest out-of-pocket costs for medical services.
Consider the deductible, which is how much a person needs to pay out-of-pocket before insurance starts paying for care.
In 2018, fewer than half of Californians who had work-based insurance had a deductible, and on average, that deductible was $1,402 for a single person, according to research from the California Health Care Foundation. (California Healthline is an editorially independent service of the California Health Care Foundation.)
The deductible on a Covered California bronze plan for an individual in 2021 will be $6,300 for medical services plus $500 for prescription drugs. Proposition 22 ties the stipend “to the highest deductible, highest out-of-pocket plans on the market,” Flory said. “And it’s for workers who aren’t making a whole lot of money.”
Drivers could use the stipend to buy a more generous plan, but the monthly premium would be higher and the stipend would cover less of it.
Depending on their incomes and other factors, drivers may also be eligible for tax credits and state and federal subsidies to help them afford plans on the individual market. But Flory said this amounts to the government subsidizing health insurance that employers should be paying for themselves.
It’s also problematic to base the stipends on a statewide average of bronze premiums because that doesn’t take into account the huge regional differences in the cost of care, said Gerald Kominski, a senior fellow at the UCLA Center for Health Policy Research.
“In the Bay Area, that contribution is going to buy a lot less than it would in Southern California,” Kominski said. “We’re a big state and have a lot of variation of health care costs.”
Our Ruling
The stipend offered under Proposition 22 is a “health care benefit,” but the wording is misleading and ignores critical information.
While neither Lyft nor the Yes on 22 campaign says the proposition will give drivers health insurance, saying that it will offer them “health care benefits” gives the impression that the stipend is similar to traditional job-based coverage. It’s not.
Drivers who value the ability to make their own schedules would have to figure out how to work an average of nearly 40 hours a week — essentially full time — to receive the full stipend. The stipend would cover a fraction of the premiums for health insurance that’s typically less generous than what they’d get as employees.
Moreover, because drivers’ stipends could change quarterly based on their driving time — which could be affected by vacation or illness — any coverage purchased with the stipend could carry a cloud of uncertainty.
Each time Beverly Tucker visited a nursing home or long-term care facility this fall, she brought along a rolling tote bag packed with supplies from the Durham County Board of Elections.
Boxes of face masks and face shields. Latex gloves and cleaning wipes. Hand sanitizer from Mystic Farm & Distillery, a local facility that was among the first to switch from producing liquor to hand sanitizer in the early days of the pandemic. And most important — even if they were dwarfed by the cleaning supplies — the absentee ballots and ballot request forms that Tucker would help residents complete in time for the election.
“The equipment is clearly different this year,” Tucker said. “But I’m doing whatever is possible to help people vote.”
Seniors in such facilities across the country have struggled to find safe ways to vote amid the pandemic. In North Carolina, it’s a particular challenge. The state is one of two (the other being Louisiana) where facility staffers are prohibited by law from assisting residents with voting. A 2013 voter ID law makes it a felony for staff to even sign as the witness on an absentee ballot.
That’s where community members like Tucker come in. The 66-year-old Durham resident is a member of the county’s multipartisan assistance team, often called a MAT, which helps residents in nursing homes, assisted living and other facilities complete mail-in or absentee ballots. The teams are appointed by the county board of elections and must include at least two people who have different political party affiliations or are unaffiliated. Some counties pay the teams, while others ask members to volunteer.
This year, the convergence of coronavirus concerns and the election has unexpectedly thrust team members to the front lines. They are entering some of the state’s hardest-hit sites, with nursing home residents accounting for about 40% of North Carolina’s COVID deaths, as cases continue to rise. The added risk has disrupted this crucial system in some areas. At least one county was unable to recruit a team, and members in another county have been unwilling to visit facilities with documented COVID cases.
But those who do venture inside say the risk is worth it to help people vote.
Kevin Marr, 66, has been volunteering with the voting assistance team in Wake County since 2017. He recognizes many of the residents now, even behind their masks. Although the visits are different this year, he said the residents’ enthusiasm to vote and receive their “I Voted” stickers is not. That’s what keeps him going, visiting about two facilities a day in recent weeks.
Tucker, of neighboring Durham County, has worked in public health for decades, including during the AIDS epidemic. She understood it was safer to go to residents in nursing homes and long-term care facilities than to risk them coming to polling sites with more people.
Still, when she first thought about holding voters’ hands to help them grasp a pen or sign a ballot, “I was instinctively reluctant to touch them,” she said. At the first nursing home Tucker visited, she felt anxious as a resident approached her without a mask.
But her concerns have eased over time, she said, and she simply focuses on ways to protect herself and her team. They conduct most of the visits outdoors, in the parking lot or front lawn. They put up plexiglass barriers between themselves and the voters, passing papers through an opening at the bottom. And they now carry masks for residents who may not have one.
It’s difficult to maintain social distancing when one team member is working with a resident to mark a ballot and the other is observing to ensure accuracy, but they do their best.
Foreseeing these challenges, the North Carolina Board of Elections asked the state legislature and courts earlier this year to temporarily suspend restrictions on facility staff assisting with voting. But neither request was fulfilled. A recent lawsuit contesting the restriction won accommodations for the plaintiff, who was a nursing home resident, but left the broader law intact.
At Brian Center Health and Rehabilitation in Goldsboro, administrator Julia Batts worried that MAT members would not be allowed to visit, since the facility has a designated COVID-positive unit with about a dozen residents. But when statewide visitation regulations eased in September, she eagerly reached out to them.
The plan was careful and clinical. Have the team set up in the dining hall of the COVID-free building and bring in any residents who had tested negative to meet with them, two at a time, in alphabetical order.
But on the day the team arrived, it felt more like a celebration. Several women asked the staff to do their hair, and many residents “began wheeling themselves or taking their walkers to go vote,” Batts said. “They were almost racing.”
By the end of the day, the team helped about 20 residents vote. They’ll return next week to assist more residents, including new entrants who finished their two-week quarantine and those who have recovered from COVID, Batts said.
For Linda Williamson in Durham County, seeing the enthusiasm of voters reminds her of her grandparents. They took her along when they cast their first ballot in the 1960s, after African Americans won the right to vote. The then-9-year-old Williamson dressed in her Sunday best: hair ribbons and patent-leather shoes. As she watched her grandparents disappear behind the voting curtain, she couldn’t wait for it to be her turn someday.
This year, she couldn’t bear to think that nursing home and assisted-living residents — many of whom likely fought for their right to vote just like her grandparents — would be robbed of that opportunity.
So Williamson, 64, put her apprehension about COVID aside, donned her face mask and gloves, and visited five facilities this fall.
To each resident she’d say, “Gosh, you picked a great day to vote.”
An investigation into the death of 30-year-old Darius Settles found that, like many uninsured COVID-19 patients, he had never been told that cost shouldn’t be a concern.
This article was first published on Thursday, October 29, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
When Darius Settles died from COVID-19 on the Fourth of July, his family and the city of Nashville, Tennessee, were shocked. Even the mayor noted the passing of a 30-year-old without any underlying conditions — one of the city’s youngest fatalities at that point.
Settles was also uninsured and had just been sent home from an emergency room for the second time, and he was worried about medical bills. An investigation into his death found that, like many uninsured COVID-19 patients, he had never been told that cost shouldn’t be a concern.
Back at the end of June, Settles and his wife, Angela, were both feeling ill with fevers and body aches. Then Darius took a turn — bad enough that he asked his wife to call an ambulance.
“My husband is having issues breathing and he’s weak, so we’re probably going to need a paramedic over here to rush him to the hospital,” she told the operator, according to the 911 recordings obtained by WPLN News.
Darius Settles was stabilized and tested for the coronavirus at the hospital, according to his medical records. The doctor sent him home with antibiotics and instructions to come back if things got worse.
Three days later, they did. And now he also knew he had COVID-19; his test results were in.
But Settles was between full-time jobs, playing the organ at a church as he launched a career as a suit designer. So he had no health insurance.
His wife, who works for Tennessee State University, said he was worried about costs as he went back to the hospital a second time; she tried to reassure him
“He said, ‘I bet this hospital bill is going to be high.’ And I said, ‘Babe, it’s going to be OK.’ And we left it alone, just like that,” she said.
When he returned to TriStar Southern Hills Medical Center, owned by the for-profit hospital chain HCA, physicians tested his blood oxygen levels, which are usually a first sign that a COVID-19 patient is in trouble. They had dropped to 88%. An X-ray of his lungs “appears worse,” the physician wrote in the record.
But the doctor also noted that after a few hours in the emergency room his oxygen saturations had improved and he was breathing on room air. The records show they discussed why he might not want to be admitted to the hospital since he was otherwise young and healthy and didn’t note any risk factors for complications.
And when Angela Settles called to check in, he seemed to be OK with leaving despite his persistent struggle to breathe.
He was a COVID-19 patient so, “I could not go up there to see him,” she said. “He was saying that I might as well go home.”
Angela Settles was surprised since her husband was the one who wanted to go to the hospital in the first place.
At first, she thought the hospital just didn’t want to admit a man without insurance who would have trouble paying a big bill. But TriStar Southern Hills admits hundreds of patients a year without insurance — more than 500 in 2019, according to a spokesperson.
And in this case, the federal government would have paid the bill. But no one said that when it might have made a difference to Darius Settles.
The Message Never Makes It to Patients
TriStar, like most major health systems, participates in a program through the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services in which uninsured patients with COVID-19 have their bills covered. It was set up through the pandemic relief legislation known as the CARES Act.
But TriStar doesn’t tell its patients that upfront. Neither do other hospitals or national health systems contacted by WPLN News. There’s no requirement to, which is one of the program’s shortcomings, said Jennifer Tolbert of KFF, who studies uninsured patients. (KHN is an editorially independent program of KFF.)
“This is obviously a great concern to most uninsured patients,” Tolbert said. Her research finds that people without insurance often avoid care because of the bill or the threat of the bill, even though they might qualify for any number of programs if they asked enough questions.
Tolbert said the problem with the COVID-19 uninsured program is that even doctors don’t always know how it works or that the program exists.
“At the point when the patient shows up at the hospital or at another provider site, it’s at that point when those questions need to be answered,” she said. “And it’s not always clear that that is happening.”
Among clinicians, there’s a reluctance to raise the issue of cost in any way and run afoul of federal laws. Emergency rooms must at least stabilize everyone, regardless of their ability to pay, under a federal law known as the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act, or EMTALA. Asking questions about insurance coverage is often referred to as a “wallet biopsy,” and can result in fines for hospitals or even being temporarily banned from receiving Medicare payments.
Physicians also don’t want to make a guarantee, knowing a patient still could end up having to fight a bill.
“I don’t want to absolutely promise anything,” said Dr. Ryan Stanton, an ER physician in Lexington, Kentucky, and a board member of the American College of Emergency Physicians.
“There should not be a false sense that it will be an absolute smooth path when we’re dealing with government services and complexities of the health care system,” he said.
‘Could I Have Done More?’
Darius Settles knew he was in bad shape. But he didn’t attempt to make a third trip to the hospital. Instead of 911, he called his father, pastor David Settles, and asked his father to come pray for him.
When the elder Settles replied that he was always praying for his son, Darius said, “No, I really need you to pray for me. I need you to get the oil, lay hands on me and pray,” David Settles recalls, and so he went, despite concerns about getting COVID-19 himself.
He sat by his son’s side. Darius’ wife made some peppermint tea, and when they put it to his lips, Darius didn’t sip. They thought he had fallen asleep. But he was unconscious.
At that point, they called 911 again and the operator instructed them to get Darius to the floor and perform chest compressions until paramedics arrived.
For 11 minutes, Angela Settles pumped her husband’s chest, occasionally asking the dispatcher “what’s taking so long,” the 911 recordings show. Even after help showed up, Darius never revived.
Pastor Settles was back in the pulpit just a few weeks later, preaching on suffering and grief after the death of his son, “whom I watched as the breath left his body,” he told his congregation. “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.”
Darius Settles left behind his own son, who was 6. And his widow’s head is still spinning. She said she can’t shake a sense of personal guilt.
“Could I have done more?” Angela Settles asked. “That’s hard, and I know that he would not want me to feel like that.”
She wondered, too, if the hospital could have done more for him. And even after failing to disclose its policy for uninsured COVID-19 patients, it did send her a bill for part of her husband’s care. Asked why, a TriStar spokesperson said it was sent in error and does not have to be paid.
Sen. Lindsey Graham has never been a fan of the Affordable Care Act — even though it’s helped dramatically lower the number of uninsured people in his home state of South Carolina.
The Republican, who heads the Senate Judiciary Committee, attacked the law at the confirmation hearings for Supreme Court nominee Amy Coney Barrett. Democrats have made the nomination a referendum on the health law, which will be the subject of a Supreme Court hearing on Nov. 10. They fear the court may overturn the entire law, which has led to huge expansions in coverage and blocked insurers from discriminating against people with preexisting conditions, among other consumer protections.
Graham suggested that South Carolina was getting the short end of funding because the health law is sending a disproportionate amount of its money to states represented by Democrats in Congress.
“Under the Affordable Care Act, three states get 35% of the money, folks. Can you name them? I’ll help you: California, New York and Massachusetts. They’re 22% of the population. Sen. [Dianne] Feinstein’s from California, [House Speaker] Nancy Pelosi’s from California, Chuck Schumer, the leader of the Democratic Senate, is from New York, and Massachusetts is [Sen.] Elizabeth Warren. Now, why do they get 35% of the money when they’re only 22% of the population? That’s the way they designed the law: The more you spend, the more you get.”
His statement got us wondering if those numbers are true.
Complicated Math
We asked Graham’s office for evidence to support his statement. His spokesperson responded with data he said was from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services as well as the Medicaid and CHIP Payment and Access Commission, a congressional advisory board.
To look at total spending under the ACA, Graham’s office analyzed federal money that went to pay for the Medicaid expansion, tax credits given to consumers to subsidize premiums of insurance plans on the marketplace, cost sharing reduction subsidies (which were given to insurers to defray some of the costs they were required by the ACA to pick up for marketplace customers with very low incomes) and the Basic Health Program, which is an option in the ACA that lets states offer low-income residents different coverage than plans offered on the marketplaces.
Graham’s office did not share the actual reports used for the analysis, but staffers said they used 2016 data, even though more recent data was available. The numbers were based on calculations made in 2017 when Republican lawmakers sought to repeal and replace the ACA. Their analysis showed $118 billion in total 2016 federal spending on the ACA, with California, New York and Massachusetts receiving about $43 billion, or about 37% (slightly higher than what Graham cited at the hearing).
Nearly two-thirds of the funding was attributed to the expansion of Medicaid to all adults below the federal poverty level. The Supreme Court ruled that pursuing the expansion was an option left to states’ discretion — South Carolina opted against it. The federal government paid all those Medicaid costs from 2014 through 2016 for new enrollees and then gradually reduced its share to 90% today.
We decided to independently look at the spending using the latest available numbers. We reviewed federal data compiled by KFF as well as data provided directly from the U.S. Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services and the states, when necessary. (KHN is an editorially independent program of KFF.)
It is important to note that the Trump administration ended the cost sharing reduction payments in October 2017. So, KHN’s analysis did not include spending for that program.
Adding up the latest data and the federal share of funding came to nearly $140 billion. Of that amount, New York, California and Massachusetts — which represent about 20% of the nation’s population — received a combined $40 billion, or about 29%.
The largest category of federal funding by far was the nearly $27.5 billion the three states together received from Medicaid expansion.
New York received about $5 billion in fiscal 2019 for the Basic Health Program.
Sifting through older datasets, one key discrepancy stands out in the figures used by Graham. He lists Massachusetts as receiving $6.1 billion in federal exchange subsidies — almost 20% of the national total — while federal data used by KFF in 2016 cites $360 million.
Graham insinuated that South Carolina wasn’t getting its fair share of money, calling the law “a disaster for the state.”
But the refusal by the state’s Republican leaders for the past seven years to expand Medicaid — which would have brought in billions of federal dollars — is the main reason for the funding disparity. South Carolina is one of 12 states that have not adopted Medicaid expansion.
That decision has left hundreds of thousands of the state’s residents uninsured because they have incomes too high for Medicaid but too low to qualify for federal subsidies to help them buy insurance plans sold on the ACA marketplaces. To qualify for a subsidy, consumers’ income must be at least at the federal poverty level, or $12,760 in 2020.
“A big driver of the flow of federal funds is related to that decision about whether to expand,” said Larry Levitt, KFF’s executive vice president for health policy. “It is not inherently in the design of the law.”
If South Carolina expanded Medicaid, about 330,000 more residents would be covered and the federal government would give an additional $1.6 billion in annual Medicaid funding to the state, according to an analysis by the Urban Institute. State Medicaid spending would rise by $250 million.
Even without expanding Medicaid, the uninsured rate in South Carolina has dropped from 20% in 2008 to about 13% in 2019, according to Census data.
More than 9 in 10 people in the state who get coverage through the ACA marketplace get tax credits to help them pay their monthly premiums.
In fact, South Carolina gets a larger share of those premium tax credits than most states. South Carolina, the nation’s 23rd-largest state by population size, ranks 11th in the number of residents getting those subsidies and ninth in receipt of the federal ACA premium subsidies, according to the federal data.
Disadvantage for ‘Fiscally Responsible States’
Kevin Bishop, a spokesperson for Graham, said the point of the senator’s remarks is that the ACA “is structured so that states that either expanded [Medicaid] or have favorable state eligibility will have a disproportionate share of funds. This gives an advantage to high-spending states.” States that are more “fiscally responsible” are at a disadvantage, he said.
Bishop acknowledged that ACA spending does change each year.
Levitt noted that Graham’s critique omitted an important perspective about other states. The senator did not mention that enrollees in two Republican-controlled states with large populations, Florida and Texas, receive more in ACA premium subsidies than people in New York or Massachusetts. However, neither of those Southern states has expanded its Medicaid program.
Still, experts noted that Graham’s comment that the more states spend the more they get from the ACA is partly true.
It accurately reflects the ACA’s Medicaid formula. As states expand Medicaid eligibility, they pick up more expenses and also receive more money in a federal match.
Joe Antos, a health economist with the conservative American Enterprise Institute, said Graham is correct that the Medicaid expansion was designed to help direct additional funding to wealthier states such as New York, California and Massachusetts. Those states, as well as some others, had broader Medicaid eligibility rules than poorer states before the law was enacted, so their Medicaid rolls were relatively larger already.
That’s why the Medicaid expansion was set at 138% of the federal poverty level, rather than 100%, he said. The higher amount meant those states could get a larger reimbursement for people already in their program.
But he said states that chose not to expand Medicaid under the law can’t blame the law for getting fewer federal dollars.
“If a state did not expand, it’s on them for having less federal funding,” Antos said.
Ed Haislmaier, a senior research fellow at the conservative Heritage Foundation, said the expansion of Medicaid for those more progressive states significantly increased their funding. “New York made out like a bandit,” he said, noting the state had one of the nation’s largest Medicaid populations before 2010.
Our Ruling
Graham points to higher federal spending on ACA programs in three states that are represented by top congressional Democrats and complains that South Carolina is not faring as well. While his numbers are four years old, the latest numbers are just a few percentage points lower than what he cited — 29% compared with 35%.
He also left out some critical information — most important, that South Carolina didn’t pursue federal funding through Medicaid expansion.
His argument that the law was designed to help some states largely controlled by Democrats fails to note that many Republican-controlled states have received heavy federal funding, too, either because of ACA tax subsidies or Medicaid expansion, or both.
He also didn’t acknowledge that South Carolina does have a strong record of receiving federal subsidies for consumers buying insurance on the ACA marketplace.
Although Congress and the courts blocked a Medicaid overhaul, the Trump administration has left its mark on the nation’s largest government-run health program.
This article was first published on Thursday, October 29, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
President Donald Trump entered office seeking a massive overhaul of the Medicaid program, which had just experienced the biggest growth spurt in its 50-year history.
His administration supported repealing the Affordable Care Act’s Medicaid expansion, which has added millions of adults to the federal-state health program for lower-income Americans. He also wanted states to require certain enrollees to work. He sought to discontinue the open-ended federal funding that keeps pace with rising Medicaid enrollment and costs.
He has achieved none of these ambitious goals.
Although Congress and the courts blocked a Medicaid overhaul, the Trump administration has left its mark on the nation’s largest government-run health program as it has sought to make states more responsible for assessing its impact and improving the health of enrollees.
One notable achievement: The Trump administration pushed some states to be more aggressive in weeding out ineligible recipients — an initiative that led to a drop in enrollment of children in several states, including Missouri and Tennessee. About half of those enrolled in Medicaid are children.
A recent report from the Georgetown University Center for Children and Families found that the number of uninsured children rose by more than 700,000 to 4.4 million from 2017 through 2019. The increase of uncovered children stands out since uninsured rates typically drop during periods of economic growth, such as the one occurring from 2017 to 2019.
Advocates for the poor say the administration’s efforts contributed to an increase in the number of uninsured children, after years of decline. “The administration has not succeeded on any of its goals in any meaningful way,” said Joan Alker, executive director of the Georgetown center. “But they still have inflicted some damaging changes to the program.”
“The administration has not prioritized the health of children,” said Bruce Lesley, president of the child advocacy group First Focus on Children.
Alker attributes the rise in uninsured children to federal officials’ decision to slash outreach funding for the Obamacare insurance exchanges — through which families eligible for Medicaid are often identified — and the administration’s focus on the “public charge” rule. That provision allows the federal government to more easily deny permanent residency status, popularly known as green cards, or entry visas to applicants who use — or are deemed likely to use — publicly funded programs such as food stamps, housing assistance and Medicaid.
Medicaid officials said the increase is partly due to loss of health coverage by middle-income families who are not eligible for Medicaid. They say those families don’t qualify for government subsidies for the ACA’s marketplace plans and were forced to drop their plans because of high premiums.
But Alker said federal data suggests that families who have incomes over the 400% federal poverty level eligibility limit for subsidies (about $87,000 for a family of three) saw a slower rate of increase in the number of uninsured children as opposed to lower-income kids.
A spokesperson for the federal government’s Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services said the agency was “committed to ensuring that eligible children are enrolled and retained in coverage” and it spent $48 million in grants for outreach and enrollment effort last year.
The Trump administration opposes the ACA’s expansion of Medicaid, which provided billions in federal dollars to cover nondisabled, low-income adults. Yet seven states adopted the expansion during the past three years, including Republican-controlled Utah, Idaho, Oklahoma, Nebraska and Missouri.
Despite the aim to shrink the program, about 75 million people were enrolled in Medicaid in June 2020 — roughly the same number as in January 2017, when Trump took office.
One reason is that Medicaid enrollment soared this year following the COVID-19 outbreak as unemployment spiked to historic highs and federal stimulus money forbid states to drop anyone unless they moved out of state.
But that is far from the administration’s goal of “ushering in a new day” for Medicaid, as CMS Administrator Seema Verma said when she laid out her bold vision in a 2017 speech.
Verma acknowledged she was stepping into a hornet’s nest of entrenched stakeholders and interest groups.
“I would like to invite everybody here today who have fought the political healthcare battles over the last decade to take a deep breath, exhale and agree to reset as a group,” she said.
They didn’t. The administration’s major Medicaid changes were met with opposition from hospitals, doctors and patient advocacy groups, who feared the efforts would lead to cuts in funding or add obstacles for enrollees seeking care.
Officials spent two years seeking to allow states to require enrollees to work or volunteer as a condition for enrollment. They approved proposals from 10 states, but only Arkansas implemented the new requirement before a federal judge ruled it illegal. Arkansas’ brief experience resulted in more than 18,000 adults losing coverage.
After losing in federal district and appeals courts, the Trump administration has appealed to the Supreme Court, which will decide later this year whether to take the case.
The push for work requirements and other changes have altered the culture of Medicaid so that officials are more intent on keeping people out of the program instead of welcoming more in, said Lesley, of First Focus.
Before the pandemic, he said, the administration allowed states to add hurdles for families to get enrolled and stay enrolled, such as requiring them to more frequently recertify their income eligibility.
Aaron Yelowitz, a professor of economics at the University of Kentucky, said one of the Trump administration’s biggest impacts on Medicaid was prodding states to be more active in making sure they were covering only people who met the states’ eligibility rules. He noted the ACA gave states incentives to enroll newly eligible adults over traditional groups such as children and the disabled because the federal government paid a higher share of the cost.
Seeking Flexibility for States
The administration — as well as Republicans in Congress — favored a fundamental change in how Medicaid is funded. But Congress failed to move the program to a “block grant” approach, which would have given states a set annual amount — rather than the current system that provides funding determined by how many people qualify for the program and health costs. The GOP proposal also would have allowed states more flexibility in running the operations.
Critics predicted a block grant would have cut billions in state funding and led to cuts in services and eligibility.
Once the legislative proposal was dead, the administration sought to enact the strategy via its authority to test changes in payment methods. Only one state applied — Oklahoma — and it dropped its application this year after voters passed a Medicaid expansion ballot initiative.
Verma promised to give states more flexibility in running their programs in other ways, while also holding them more accountable for care to Medicaid enrollees. CMS has approved dozens of Medicaid waivers since 2017, including allowing states to be more innovative in helping enrollees with substance abuse or addiction problems and serious mental illness. It granted more than 30 states waivers to enhance treatment options.
With Medicaid paying for more than half of all births in the United States, Verma also sought to improve oversight of prenatal and early childhood services.
While CMS has started a scorecard to track Medicaid outcomes, the data is missing for several states or outdated on several measures. For example, the low-birthweight measure is missing data from more than 20 states and no data is listed on children born with an addiction.
CMS officials said they are working to provide more updated information on its report card.
Changes implemented by the administration, officials added, have elicited more timely data from states, allowing them to spot problems quicker. For example, in September, CMS determined that many children were delayed from March through May in seeing a doctor and getting important vaccines as the pandemic took hold. CMS pushed states and health providers to remedy the problem but did not offer specific help.
Asked during a recent phone briefing with reporters about Medicaid’s legacy under her stewardship, Verma didn’t mention the expansion, work requirements or efforts to turn Medicaid into a block grant program for states.
“We have aimed to try to ensure the program is sustainable for generations to come and ensure better outcomes for those it serves,” she said.
The weeks of fear and uncertainty that Pam and Paul Alexander suffered as their adult daughter struggled against COVID-19 etched itself into the very roots of their hair, leaving behind bald patches by the time she left the hospital in early May.
Tisha Holt had been transferred by ambulance from a smaller hospital outside Nashville, Tennessee, to Vanderbilt University Medical Center on April 14, when her breathing suddenly worsened and doctors suspected COVID-19. Within several days her diagnosis had been confirmed, her oxygen levels were dropping, and breathing had become so excruciating that it felt like her “lungs were wrapped in barbed wire,” as Tisha describes it.
Vanderbilt doctors put the 42-year-old on a mechanical ventilator, and the next few weeks passed in a blur for her parents, who waited helplessly for the next update about the eldest of their three children.
“That’s when it got really, really bad,” Pam said. “We were not allowed to see her, to go, to talk to her — not anything. I would call. And I might get somebody, and then again I might not.” Later that first week after Tisha arrived at Vanderbilt, Pam reached a nurse. “She said, ‘Ms. Alexander, in all probability your daughter will die today.’ Me and my husband both, we just cried and cried.”
It “was probably more than likely the worst day of my life when the nurse told us that,” Paul said. “She was our first baby, and the first person that I’ve held that was part of me.”
The number of Americans hospitalized with the virus is increasing again, reaching 41,000 late last week, many with a circle of loved ones holding vigil in their minds, even if they can’t sit at the bedside. A decade ago, critical care clinicians coined the term post-intensive care syndrome, or PICS. It describes the muscle weakness, cognitive changes, anxiety and other physical and mental symptoms that some ICU patients cope with after leaving the hospital. Those complications are fallout from the medications, immobility and other possible components of being critically ill. Now they worry that some family members of critically ill COVID patients may develop a related syndrome, PICS-Family.
Studies show that about one-fourth of family members, and sometimes more, experience at least one symptom of PICS-Family, including anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder or “complicated grief” — grief that is persistent and disabling — when their loved one has been hospitalized, according to a 2012 review article published in the journal Critical Care Medicine. Dr. Daniela Lamas, a critical care physician at Boston’s Brigham and Women’s Hospital, believes relatives and friends of coronavirus patients may be particularly vulnerable.
Hospital rules designed to prevent the spread of the virus have robbed them of the opportunity to sit with their loved ones, watching clinicians provide medical care and gradually processing what’s happening between physician updates, Lamas said. In pre-pandemic times, a nurse “would explain what they had heard [from the doctor] and help them come to terms with unacceptable realities,” she said.
Life Becomes a Daze
The Alexanders could reach a doctor or nurse on most days. But not always, said Pam, acknowledging that “they had a lot to do.” Pam described trying to cope minute to minute, day to day, waiting for the next report from the hospital, wandering from room to room. “You just walk around sort of in a daze. You can’t think about anything else but that.”
Paul struggled with feelings of depression, often retreating to his workshop. “I wouldn’t do anything but sit there and cry, wouldn’t work on nothing, just sit there with my head in my hands.”
Meanwhile, they had become temporary parents to their grandsons, two teenagers who had homework and laundry and kept asking about their mom. Pam tried to shield them as much as possible. “There are a lot of things I just didn’t tell them until it got really bad,” she said.
Being physically cut off from their daughter was the hardest, Pam and Paul said. “I don’t care if I had to put on 40 layers of clothes,” Pam said. “Just to have gotten to go in and touch her and see her would have made a huge difference.”
Even though family members are typically barred from visiting during the pandemic, they can wrestle with guilt that they let a loved one down in his or her time of need, said Jim Jackson, a psychologist and assistant director at Vanderbilt’s ICU Recovery Center.
Without any visual sense of what’s going on, “people often move to worst-case scenarios; they move to catastrophic thinking,” he said. “And why wouldn’t they, because it’s already a hugely serious situation, right? It’s a five-alarm fire and they’re not able to be engaged.”
Seeking Healing
Doctors and nurses can ease the strain on loved ones by updating a designated family member at least once a day, said Judy Davidson, a nurse scientist at the University of California-San Diego and an author of the 2012 Critical Care Medicine review article. Arrange video calls, she suggested, so the family can see their loved one and better picture the room, clinicians and broader hospital environment.
“If we don’t protect them and keep them strong while the person is in the ICU,” Davidson said, “they won’t be strong enough to do the caregiving that’s necessary once the person comes home.”
After a patient does return home, family members may shy away from discussing what they have been through, so as not to burden their still recovering loved one, Jackson said. The ICU survivor may remain silent for similar reasons, he said.
“What tends to happen is they both sort of passively agree not to talk about the elephant in the room, when that’s exactly the best thing to do,” Jackson said.
Tisha — who finally left the hospital May 3 — was stunned by her parents’ appearance the first time she saw them. “They both looked exhausted and I was shocked at the amount of hair that they’d lost,” she wrote in an email. Treatment and damaged lungs have made it difficult for her to talk by phone.
Since then, her parents’ bald spots have begun to fill in, but they haven’t released their worry. Tisha can breathe from only the top of her lungs and needs 24-hour oxygen, Pam said. She’s not strong enough to return to work as a nurse, a job she loved. She no longer has health insurance and can’t afford even the cheapest plan on the Affordable Care Act exchanges. To this day, Tisha doesn’t know where she contracted the virus.
Her parents spend virtually all waking hours at Tisha’s home, about a 10-minute drive from their house, and check on her a few times daily, sometimes more often if she’s feeling poorly, Pam said. “I think, ‘Am I going to come over here and she’s going to be dead from her heart not working?’ It scares me to death because she has bad days and good days.”
Tisha keeps her cellphone handy in case they text or call. “If they call and I don’t answer, it sends them into a panic and they are apt to drive over here to make sure everything is alright,” she wrote.
She’s been attending a virtual ICU survivors support group at Vanderbilt that Jackson helps lead. It’s open to relatives, but Pam was unsure she could handle hearing others’ painful stories as she’s still processing her own. “I don’t mind talking to you about it,” she said, “but sometimes talking about it just sort of gets you in a funk.”
Their church community has provided solace, calling when Tisha was in the hospital and leaving food on the porch. Pam and Paul credit a myriad of prayers from loved ones near and far with bringing their daughter home. “Even the doctors, they really didn’t know why she was still here either, to be honest with you,” Paul said.
He hasn’t stopped fretting about his eldest child. “I still can’t turn it off — it hasn’t turned off,” Paul said. “But every day is a blessing, though.”