The executive order signed by Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom late Wednesday is a response to threats made to health officers across California during the coronavirus pandemic.
This article was published on Thursday, September 24, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
SANTA CRUZ, Calif. — California will allow public health officials to participate in a program to keep their home addresses confidential, a protection previously reserved for victims of violence, abuse and stalking and reproductive health care workers.
The executive order signed by Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom late Wednesday is a response to threats made to health officers across California during the coronavirus pandemic. More than a dozen public health leaders have left their jobs amid such harassment over their role in mask rules and stay-at-home orders.
A series examining how the U.S. public health front lines have been left understaffed and ill-prepared to save us from the coronavirus pandemic. The project is a collaboration between KHN and the AP.
"Our public health officers have all too often faced targeted harassment and stalking," wrote Secretary of State Alex Padilla in a statement. This "program can help provide more peace of mind to the public health officials who have been on the frontlines of California's COVID-19 response."
A community college instructor accused of stalking and threatening Santa Clara health officer Sara Cody was arrested in late August. The Santa Clara County sheriff said it believes the suspect, Alan Viarengo, has ties to the "Boogaloo" movement, a right-wing, anti-government group that promotes violence and is associated with multiple killings, including the murders of a federal security officer and a sheriff deputy in the Bay Area. Thousands of rounds of ammunition, 138 firearms and explosive materials were found in his home, the sheriff's office said.
In Santa Cruz County, two top health officials have received death threats, including one allegedly signed by a far-right extremist group.
In May, a member of the public read aloud the home address of former Orange County health officer Nichole Quick at a supervisors' meeting and called for protesters to go to her home. "You have seen firsthand how people have been forced to exercise their First Amendment. Be wise, and do not force the residents of this county into feeling they have no other choice than to exercise their Second Amendment," said another attendee. Quick later resigned.
Protesters angry over mask mandates and stay-at-home orders have gone to the homes of health officers in multiple counties, including Orange and Contra Costa.
The executive order would allow health officials to register with the Secretary of State's Safe at Home program. Those in the program are given an alternative mailing address to use for public records so that their home addresses are not revealed.
Threats of violence have added to the already immense pressure public health officials have experienced since the beginning of the year. Amid chronic underfunding and staffing shortages, they have been working to limit the spread of the coronavirus, while also deflecting political pressure from other officials and anger from the public over business closures and mask mandates.
"California's local health officers have been working tirelessly since the start of the pandemic, using science to guide policy," said Kat DeBurgh, the executive director of the Health Officers Association of California. "It is regrettable that this order was necessary — but we are grateful for it nevertheless."
Nationwide, at least 61 state or local health leaders in 27 states have resigned, retired or been fired since April, according to a review by The Associated Press and KHN, a figure that has doubled since the newsrooms first began tracking the departures in June.
Thirteen of those departures have been in California, including 11 county health officials and the state's two top public health officials.
Dr. Sonia Angell, former director of the California Department of Public Health and state public health officer, quit in early August after a series of glitches in the state's infectious disease reporting system caused weeks-long delays in reporting cases of COVID-19.
In Placer County, north of Sacramento, health officer Dr. Aimee Sisson resigned effective Sept. 25 after the county Board of Supervisors voted to end its local COVID-19 health emergency. "It is with a heavy heart that I submit this letter of resignation," she wrote in her resignation letter. "Today's action by the Placer County Board of Supervisors made it clear that I can no longer effectively serve in my role."
Organizations across the state have expressed concern over the treatment of health officials during the pandemic, including the California Medical Association.
"Basic science has become politicized in so many parts of our state, and our country," wrote California Medical Association president Dr. Peter N. Bretan Jr. in a statement after Sisson's departure. "Public health officers are public servants who seek to do what their job description states — to protect public health."
The executive order also directs the state to assess impacts of the pandemic on health care providers and health care service plans, and halts evictions for commercial renters through March 31, 2021, among other pandemic-related matters.
KHN and California Healthline correspondent Angela Hart contributed to this report.
Shielding the identities of clinicians and statisticians on the board is meant to insulate them from pressure by the company sponsoring the trial, government officials or the public.
This article was published on Thursday, September 24, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Most Americans have never heard of Dr. Richard Whitley, an expert in pediatric infectious diseases at the University of Alabama-Birmingham.
Yet as the coronavirus pandemic drags on and the public eagerly awaits a vaccine, he may well be among the most powerful people in the country.
Whitley leads a small, secret panel of experts tasked with reviewing crucial data on the safety and effectiveness of coronavirus vaccines that U.S. taxpayers have helped fund, including products from Moderna, AstraZeneca, Johnson & Johnson and others. The data and safety monitoring board — known as a DSMB — is supposed to make sure the medicine is safe and it works. It has the power to halt a clinical trial or fast-track it.
Shielding the identities of clinicians and statisticians on the board is meant to insulate them from pressure by the company sponsoring the trial, government officials or the public, according to multiple clinical trial experts who have served on such panels. That could be especially important in the pressure-cooker environment of COVID vaccine research, fueled by President Donald Trump's promises to deliver a vaccine before Election Day.
As pharmaceutical companies work to produce one as quickly as possible, the board's anonymity has stirred concerns that the cloak of secrecy could, paradoxically, allow undue influence. Whitley, for example, represents the specialized world these experts inhabit — a professor revered in academia who also is paid by the drug industry.
Any political pressure to rush pharmaceutical companies or lean on federal regulators to prematurely greenlight a vaccine would undermine a system put in place to ensure public safety. Calls are growing for companies and the government to be more open about who's involved in reviewing the vaccine trials and whether board members have any conflicts of interest.
"We want to know they're truly independent," said Dr. Eric Topol, director of the Scripps Research Translational Institute and a specialist in clinical trials. "The lack of transparency is exasperating."
Data and safety monitoring boards have existed for decades to vet new drugs and vaccines, acting as a backstop to help ensure unsafe products don't make their way to the public. Typically, there's one board for each product. This time, a joint DSMB with 10 to 15 experts will review unblinded data across trials for multiple coronavirus vaccines whose development the U.S. government has helped fund, according to five people involved in the Trump administration's Operation Warp Speed or other coronavirus vaccine work. It is run through the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases at the National Institutes of Health and consists of outside scientists and statistical experts, not federal employees, NIH Director Francis Collins said on a call with reporters.
"Until they are convinced that there's something there that looks promising, nothing is unblinded and sent to the FDA," Collins said. "I doubt if there have been very many vaccine trials ever that have been subjected to this size and the rigor with which it's being evaluated."
The NIH safety board oversees trials in the U.S. from Moderna, Johnson & Johnson and AstraZeneca, U.S. officials and others involved in Operation Warp Speed said, but not Pfizer, which is fully funding its clinical trial work and established its own five-member safety panel. Pfizer has attested that it can conclusively determine by late October the effectiveness of its vaccine, being jointly developed with German company BioNTech. It secured a $1.95 billion purchase agreement with the Department of Health and Human Services for the first 100 million doses produced. The agreement gives HHS the option to buy an additional 500 million doses.
Moderna, Johnson & Johnson and AstraZeneca, which have either started or are aiming to soon begin large-scale trials in the U.S. involving thousands of patients, collectively have received more than $2 billion in government funds for vaccine development; billions more have been meted out under agreements similar to the HHS contract with Pfizer to buy millions of vaccine doses. Having one safety board oversee multiple trials could allow researchers to better understand the field of products and apply consistency across evaluations, clinical trial experts said in interviews.
One big advantage "could be more standardization," said Dr. Walter Orenstein, associate director of the Emory Vaccine Center at Emory University and a former senior official at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. "They can look at that data and look at all the trials instead of just doing one trial."
But it also means that one board has an outsize influence to dictate which coronavirus vaccines eventually succeed or come to a halt, all while most of their identities remain secret. The NIH declined to name them, saying they were "confidential" and could be identified only once a study was complete.
One exception to the mystery is Whitley, who was appointed as chair by Dr. Anthony Fauci, the nation's top infectious disease official. Fauci said that following a "combination of input from us and from him and other colleagues, the people who had the greatest expertise in a variety of areas, including statistics, clinical trials, vaccinology, immunology, clinical work," were selected for the panel.
Whitley's role became public when his university announced it, an unusual move. He is a professor as well as a board member of Gilead Sciences, which recently signed a contractwith Pfizer to manufacture remdesivir to treat COVID-19 patients. Whitley, who's been on Gilead's board since 2008, conducted research that led to remdesivir's development.
In 2019, he was paid roughly $430,000 as a Gilead board member, according to documents filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission. That same year, he received more than $7,700 in payments from GlaxoSmithKline for consulting, food and travel, according to a federal database that tracks drug and device company payments to physicians.
GlaxoSmithKline and Sanofi are jointly developing a vaccine that's received $2 billion from the U.S. government under Operation Warp Speed; however, Whitley, through a university spokesperson, said his DSMB has not seen any GlaxoSmithKline COVID protocols. The companies have yet to begin phase 3 trials. Although he chairs a separate GSK data and safety monitoring board for a pediatric vaccine, he was vetted and cleared by the NIH conflict-of-interest committee with its knowledge of his involvement, the spokesperson said.
"When handled responsibly, it is appropriate for physicians to collaborate with external entities," said UAB spokesperson Beena Thannickal, saying the university works with physicians to ensure that industry engagement is appropriate. "It facilitates a critical exchange of knowledge and accelerates and advances clinical treatments and cures, and it fuels discovery."
Multiple experts praised his skill — Dr. Walter Straus, an associate vice president at the drug company Merck & Co., said Whitley is an "éminence grise" in pediatrics whom people trust.
"I actually trust that process, and the fact that they asked Rich to do it makes me feel reassured because he's so good," said Dr. Jeanne Marrazzo, director of the University of Alabama-Birmingham's division of infectious diseases.
Multiple scientists who have participated in data and safety monitoring boards maintain it's important to keep the board anonymous to shield them against pressure or even for their safety. For example, when trials were conducted in San Francisco for HIV/AIDS research, the board was confidential to protect members from patients desperate for treatment, said Susan Ellenberg, a professor of biostatistics, medical ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania who's written extensively on the history of DSMBs.
If approached by a patient, it "would be very hard to tell you, 'Oh I can't help you.' It's an unreasonable burden," said Ellenberg, who said she was involved in coronavirus-related safety boards but would not name them.
As part of a large-scale clinical trial, the DSMB and a statistician or team that prepares data for those individuals are generally the only ones who see unblinded data about the trial, making it clear who is getting what treatment. A firewall is set up between them and executives from the sponsoring company with financial interests in the trial. The companies sponsoring COVID vaccine trials are not part of any closed sessions during which unblinded data is reviewed. Those are limited to members of the DSMB, the NIAID executive secretary and the independent unblinded statistician who is presenting the data, a NIAID spokesperson said.
DSMB members or their family members should have no professional, proprietary or financial relationship with the sponsoring companies, and the NIAID DSMB executive secretary vetted all members for potential conflicts of interest, NIAID said in response to questions from KHN. Members are paid $200 per meeting.
"It's generally done out of a sense of public service," said Dr. Larry Corey of the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center, who is working with NIH officials to oversee the U.S. coronavirus vaccine clinical trials. "You're doing it because of your sense of altruism and obligation to knowing the important role it plays in clinical research and the important role it plays in preserving the scientific integrity of important trials."
Moderna, AstraZeneca, Johnson & Johnson and Pfizer have each released protocols that include details on when their DSMBs would review unblinded information about trial participants, and at what points they could recommend pausing or stopping trials. The vaccine data and safety board organized by NIAID advises a broader oversight group consisting of the drug companies sponsoring the trial and representatives from NIAID and HHS' Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority that reviews the DSMB recommendations. Ultimately, the drug company has final authority over whether to submit its data to the Food and Drug Administration.
Moderna and Johnson & Johnson are each aiming for their vaccines to have 60% efficacy, which means there would need to be 60% fewer COVID cases among vaccinated individuals in their trials. AstraZeneca's target is 50%. The FDA has said any coronavirus vaccine must be at least 50% effective to secure approval from regulators. While the parameters of their clinical trials have similarities, there are some differences, including when and how many times the DSMB can conduct interim reviews to assess whether each vaccine works.
Pfizer is similarly aiming for its vaccine to be 60% effective. The company allows for four interim reviews of the data starting at 32 cases — a schedule that has been criticized by some researchers who contend it makes it easier for the company to stop the trial prematurely.
Pfizer declined to name the individuals on its monitoring committee, saying only that the group consisted of four people "with extensive experience in pediatric and adult infectious diseases and vaccine safety" and one statistician with a background in vaccine clinical trials. An unblinded team supporting its data-monitoring committee — which includes a medical monitor and statistician — will review severe cases of COVID-19 as they are received and any adverse events associated with the trial at least weekly.
"There is an irresolvable tension between speed and safety," said Dr. Gregory Poland, the head of Mayo Clinic's Vaccine Research Group. "Efficacy is pretty easy to figure out. It's safety that's the issue."
California Healthline editor Arthur Allen contributed to this report.
Reopening colleges drove a coronavirus surge of about 3,000 new cases a day in the United States, according to a draft study released Tuesday.
The study, done jointly by researchers at the University of North Carolina-Greensboro, Indiana University, the University of Washington and Davidson College, tracked cellphone data and matched it to reopening schedules at 1,400 schools, along with county infection rates.
"Our study was looking to see whether we could observe increases both in movement and in case count — so case reports in counties and all over the U.S.," said Ana Bento, an infectious disease expert and assistant professor at Indiana University's School of Public Health.
"Then we tried to understand if these were different in counties where, of course, there were universities or colleges, and particularly, to see if these increases were larger in magnitude in colleges with face-to-face instruction primarily," she said.
Nearly 900 of those schools opened primarily with in-person classes, according to the draft study.
The research examines the period from July 15 to Sept. 13. It does not name specific institutions or locations, but researchers found a correlation between schools that attempted in-person instruction and greater disease transmission rates.
Just reopening a university added 1.7 new infections per day per 100,000 people in a county, and teaching classes in person was associated with a 2.4 daily case rise, the study found.
"No such increase is observed in counties with no colleges, closed colleges or those that opened primarily online," the study says.
Factoring in whether students came from places where disease incidence was high added 1.2 daily cases per 100,000 people.
Daily new case counts nationwide during the study period ranged from a high of 70,000 to a low of 30,000, according to data compiled by The New York Times.
The authors are not calling it a mistake for colleges to have opened, considering the many variables each school faced. But earlier reporting on reopening plans around the country found a welter of chaotic efforts that did not conform to a single standard, suggesting the potential for disaster when students returned.
In fact, numerous reports surfaced around the country showing frightening COVID spikes in college towns, often blamed on partying by students. Even at the University of Illinois, a school lauded for its preparations and robust testing, more than 2,000 cases have been reported on campus since students went back last month. Cases there peaked about a week after classes began and have fallen since then.
The authors are not faulting irresponsible young people, either, since they studied class instruction methods, not behavior off campus, where some students have acted extremely poorly.
"I think that it's slightly unfair, perhaps, to say, 'Oh, students are congregating and creating these bad behaviors that lead to outbreaks,'" Bento said. "I think it's more this idea of when you see a huge influx from all over the country, or from different counties, into a college town that we know had a very low burden of COVID throughout the first months, all of a sudden we have this increased probability of infection, because we have a large community of individuals that were susceptible still."
Rather than lay blame, she said, the idea of the study was to measure the problem and then use that data to better figure out how to respond, which is the subject of a future study.
"In order for you to open online, hybrid or meet face to face, there needs to be a different combination of strategies that allows you to catch [cases] early so you're able to control community spread, which is the biggest problem here," Bento said.
The researchers hope to have that work done relatively soon, well before colleges start spring semesters.
There are some unanswered questions, such as how much of the surge in cases is simply from sick students testing positive when they arrive versus catching COVID-19 after they arrive — and how much students spread the virus to the community or the other way around.
Another is how well specific types of responses mitigated the spread, and whether different local safety measures helped or hurt.
And there is an alarming caveat: The work almost certainly did not capture the full extent of the campus-linked surge.
"While this study estimates around a 3,000 increase in daily cases, we have to take into account that this is actually likely an underestimate, because we still don't see" people who are asymptomatic, Bento said.
At issue is the degree to which the virus is airborne ― capable of spreading through tiny aerosol particles lingering in the air ― or primarily transmitted through large, faster-falling droplets.
This article was published on Wednesday, September 23, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Front-line healthcare workers are locked in a heated dispute with many infection control specialists and hospital administrators over how the novel coronavirus is spread ― and therefore, what level of protective gear is appropriate.
At issue is the degree to which the virus is airborne ― capable of spreading through tiny aerosol particles lingering in the air ― or primarily transmitted through large, faster-falling droplets from, say, a sneeze or cough. This wonky, seemingly semantic debate has a real-world impact on what sort of protective measures healthcare companies need to take to protect their patients and workers.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention injected confusion into the debate Friday with guidance putting new emphasis on airborne transmission and saying the tiny aerosol particles, as well as larger droplets, are the "main way the virus spreads." By Monday that language was gone from its website, and the agency explained that it had posted a "draft version of proposed changes" in error and that experts were still working on updating "recommendations regarding airborne transmission."
KHN and The Guardian are tracking healthcare workers who died from COVID-19 and writing about their lives and what happened in their final days.
Dr. Anthony Fauci, the top U.S. infectious disease expert, addressed the debate head-on in a Sept. 10 webcast for the Harvard Medical School, pointing to scientists specializing in aerosols who argued the CDC had "really gotten it wrong over many, many years."
"Bottom line is, there's much more aerosol [transmission] than we thought," Fauci said.
The topic has been deeply divisive within hospitals, largely because the question of whether an illness spreads by droplets or aerosols drives two different sets of protective practices, touching on everything from airflow within hospital wards to patient isolation to choices of protective gear. Enhanced protections would be expensive and disruptive to a number of industries, but particularly to hospitals, which have fought to keep lower-level "droplet" protections in place.
The hospital administrators and epidemiologists who argue that the virus is mostly droplet-spread cite studies that show it spreads to a small number of people, like a cold or flu. Therefore, N95 respirators and strict patient isolation practices aren't necessary for routine care of COVID-19 patients, those officials say.
On the other side are many occupational safety experts, aerosol scientists, front-line healthcare workers and their unions, who are quick to note that the novel coronavirus is far deadlier than the flu ― and argue that the science suggests that high-quality, and costlier, N95 respirators should be required for routine COVID-19 patient care.
The highly protective respirators have been in short supply nationwide and have soared in price, from about $1 to $7 each. Meanwhile, research has shown high rates of asymptomatic virus transmission, putting N95s in high demand among front-line healthcare workers in virtually every setting.
The debate has come to a head at hospitals from coast to coast, as studies have emerged showing that live virus hangs in COVID-19 patients' hospital rooms even in the absence of "aerosol-generating" procedures (such as intubations or breathing treatments) and has contributed to outbreaks at a nursing home, shuttle bus and choir practice.
KHN and The Guardian U.S. are examining more than 1,200 healthcare worker deaths from COVID-19, including many in which their family or colleagues reported they worked with inadequate personal protective gear.
Yet some front-line workers and managers disagree about exactly how and why healthcare workers are getting sick.
The hospital infection-control and epidemiology leaders cite studies suggesting that many healthcare workers are contracting the virus outside of work and at rates that mirror what's happening in their communities.
A group of Penn Medicine epidemiologists in late July characterized research on aerosol transmission as unconvincing and cited "extensive published evidence from across the globe" showing the "overwhelming majority" of coronavirus spread is "via large respiratory droplets."
Unions, occupational health researchers and aerosol scientists, though, reference another pile of studies showing healthcare workers have been hit far harder than average people ― and a study that showedactive viral particles can drift in the air up to 15 feet from a patient in a hospital room. Such particles can hang in the air for up to three hours.
Backing their concerns, a July 6 letter signed by 239 scientists urged the medical community and World Health Organization to recognize "the potential for airborne spread of Covid-19."
The letter pointed to studies that say talking, exhaling and coughing emit tiny particles that remain suspended in the air far longer than droplets and "pose a risk of exposure."
In one ward of a Dutch nursing home with recirculated air, researchers found that 81% of the residents were diagnosed with COVID-19. Half of the workers on the ward ― who all wore surgical masks during patient care but not during breaks ― also tested positive for the virus.
Although researchers couldn't exclude transmission by another method, the "near-simultaneous detection" of the virus among nearly all the residents pointed to aerosol spread.
The idea that the virus is spread by either droplets or aerosols is an oversimplification, said Dr. Shruti Gohil, associate medical director of epidemiology and infection prevention at the University of California-Irvine School of Medicine.
Gohil said it's more of a spectrum, with the virus being transmitted by some droplets and some large aerosol particles as well.
One metric people in the hospital infection-control field focus on, though, is how many people one sick person infects. For COVID-19, research has shown that the number is about two ― similar to a cold or the flu. For an unequivocally airborne disease like measles, the number is closer to 12 to 18.
Measles is "what airborne [transmission] looks like," Gohil said. "If this was truly a primary aerosol-transmissible disease, we'd be in a world of hurt."
Hospital epidemiologists are also focused on the rate of household spread of the novel coronavirus. With the measles, the risk of an unvaccinated member of a household getting sick is 85%, said Dr. Rachael Lee, a hospital epidemiologist and assistant professor at the University of Alabama-Birmingham. For COVID-19, she said, the risk is closer to 10%.
Though the virus is believed to be spread more by droplets than aerosol particles, Lee said, staffers at UAB University Hospital wear an N95 respirator for an extra layer of protection and because the patients require so many breathing treatments or procedures considered "aerosol-generating."
Such practices are not universal. At the University of Iowa's hospital, healthcare workers use N95s and face shields for aerosol-generating procedures but otherwise use surgical masks and face shields for routine care of COVID patients, said Dr. Daniel Diekema, director of the division of infectious diseases at the university.
He said such "enhanceddroplet precautions" are working. Places where workers are correctly using regular medical masks and face shields are findingno significant spread of the disease among staffers, although one such report focused on the spread from a single patient.
Elsewhere, patients have also been safe on floors where COVID-19 patients and those without the virus have been placed in adjacent rooms ― a practice those concerned about aerosol spread do not endorse.
"It's not an airborne disease the way measles or tuberculosis is," said Dr. Shira Doron, an epidemiologist at Tufts Medical Center in Boston and an assistant professor at Tufts medical school. "We know because we don't see outbreaks that affect multiple patients on a floor."
Origin of the Debate
The CDC helped set the stage for the current debate. In March, the agency issued revised guidance essentially saying it was "acceptable" for healthcare workers to use surgical masks ― instead of N95s ― for routine care. The guidance said respiratory droplets were the most likely source of transmission and recommended N95s only for aerosol-generating procedures.
"The contribution of small respirable particles, sometimes called aerosols or droplet nuclei, to close proximity transmission is currently uncertain. However, airborne transmission from person-to-person over long distances is unlikely," according to the guidance.
The California Hospital Association sent a letter to the state's congressional delegation urging the revised guidance be made permanent.
"We need the CDC to clearly, not conditionally, move from airborne to droplet precautions for patients and healthcare workers," the letter said. Doing so would enable hospitals to preserve PPE supplies and limit the use of special isolation rooms for COVID patients.
An association spokesperson told KHN that the group wasn't weighing in on the science, merely pressing for clarity of the rules.
Christopher Friese, professor of nursing, health management and policy at the University of Michigan, is among the experts who think those rules have endangered healthcare workers.
"We lost a tremendous amount of time and, candidly, lives because the early guidance was to wear N95s only for those specific procedures," Friese said.
Family members and union leaders from Missourito Michigan to Californiahave raised concerns about nurses dying of COVID-19 after caring for virus patients without N95 respirators. In such cases, hospitals have said they followed CDC guidance.
Friese echoed some occupational safety experts who suggested stronger guidance from the CDC early on calling the disease airborne might have had an impact ― perhaps pressuring President Donald Trump to invoke the Defense Production Act to boost supplies of N95s so "we might have the supply we need everywhere we need," Friese said.
Surveys across the country show there's still a shortage of personal protective equipment at many healthcare facilities.
The CDC guidance posted Friday would have put pressure on some hospitals to bolster their protective measures, something they have reportedly resisted. It said the virus can spread when a person sings, talks or breathes.
"These particles can be inhaled into the nose, mouth, airways, and lungs and cause infection," the site said. "This is thought to be the main way the virus spreads."
By Monday morning, the website was back to saying the virus mainly spreads through droplets, noting that draft language had been posted in error.
The University of Nebraska Medical Center has been taking so-called airborne precautions from the start. There, Dr. James Lawler, a physician and director of the Global Center for Health Security at the university, said his colleagues documented that the virus can drift in the air and live on surfaces at an extensive distance from patients.
He said the hospital tests all admitted patients for the virus and keeps COVID-19 patients apart from the general population. He said they pay close attention to cleaning shared spaces and monitoring airflow within the restricted-access unit. Workers also had N95 respirators or PAPRS, which are fitted hoods with filtered air pumped in.
All of it has added up to a "very low" rate of healthcare worker infections.
Amid uncertainty about the virus, and as an unprecedented number of healthcare workers are dying, adopting the "highest possible" forms of protection seems the best course, said Betsy Marville, nurse organizer for the 1199SEIU United Healthcare Workers East union in Florida.
That would mean a departure from CDC guidelines that now say healthcare workers need an N95 respirator only for "aerosol-generating" procedures, like intubations or other breathing treatments. She said the rule has left the nurses she represents in Florida scrambling for protective gear ― or unprotected ― when patients need such treatments urgently.
"You don't leave your patient in distress and go looking for a mask," she said. "That's crazy."
If the executive branch were to overrule the FDA's scientific judgment, a vaccine of limited efficacy and, worse, unknown side effects could be rushed to market.
This article was published on Monday, September 21, 2020 inKaiser Health News.
In podcasts, public forums, social media and medical journals, a growing number of prominent health leaders say they fear that Trump — who has repeatedly signaled his desire for the swift approval of a vaccine and his displeasure with perceived delays at the FDA — will take matters into his own hands, running roughshod over the usual regulatory process.
It would reflect another attempt by a norm-breaking administration, poised to ram through a Supreme Court nominee opposed to existing abortion rights and the Affordable Care Act, to inject politics into sensitive public health decisions. Trump has repeatedly contradicted the advice of senior scientists on COVID-19 while pushing controversial treatments for the disease.
If the executive branch were to overrule the FDA’s scientific judgment, a vaccine of limited efficacy and, worse, unknown side effects could be rushed to market.
The worries intensified over the weekend, after Alex Azar, the administration’s secretary of Health and Human Services, asserted his agency’s rule-making authority over the FDA. HHS spokesperson Caitlin Oakley said Azar’s decision had no bearing on the vaccine approval process.
Vaccines are typically approved by the FDA. Alternatively, Azar — who reports directly to Trump — can issue an emergency use authorization, even before any vaccines have been shown to be safe and effective in late-stage clinical trials.
“Yes, this scenario is certainly possible legally and politically,” said Dr. Jerry Avorn, a professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School, who outlined such an event in the New England Journal of Medicine. He said it “seems frighteningly more plausible each day.”
Vaccine experts and public health officials are particularly vexed by the possibility because it could ruin the fragile public confidence in a COVID-19 vaccine. It might put scientific authorities in the position of urging people not to be vaccinated after years of coaxing hesitant parents to ignore baseless fears.
Physicians might refuse to administer a vaccine approved with inadequate data, said Dr. Preeti Malani, chief health officer and professor of medicine at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, in a recent webinar. “You could have a safe, effective vaccine that no one wants to take.” A recent KFF poll found that 54% of Americans would not submit to a COVID-19 vaccine authorized before Election Day.
After this story was published, an HHS official said that Azar “will defer completely to the FDA” as the agency weighs whether to approve a vaccine produced through the government’s Operation Warp Speed effort.
“The idea the Secretary would approve or authorize a vaccine over the FDA’s objections is preposterous and betrays ignorance of the transparent process that we’re following for the development of the OWS vaccines,” HHS chief of staff Brian Harrison wrote in an email.
White House spokesperson Judd Deere dismissed the scientists’ concerns, saying Trump cared only about the public’s safety and health. “This false narrative that the media and Democrats have created that politics is influencing approvals is not only false but is a danger to the American public,” he said.
Usually, the FDA approves vaccines only after companies submit years of data proving that a vaccine is safe and effective. But a 2004 law allows the FDA to issue an emergency use authorization with much less evidence, as long as the vaccine “may be effective” and its “known and potential benefits” outweigh its “known and potential risks.”
Many scientists doubt a vaccine could meet those criteria before the election. But the terms might be legally vague enough to allow the administration to take such steps.
Moncef Slaoui, chief scientific adviser to Operation Warp Speed, the government program aiming to more quickly develop COVID-19 vaccines, said it’s “extremely unlikely” that vaccine trial results will be ready before the end of October.
Trump, however, has insisted repeatedly that a vaccine to fight the pandemic that has claimed 200,000 American lives will be distributed starting next month. He reiterated that claim Saturday at a campaign rally in Fayetteville, N.C.
The vaccine will be ready “in a matter of weeks,” he said. “We will end the pandemic from China.”
Although pharmaceutical companies have launched three clinical trials in the United States, no one can say with certainty when those trials will have enough data to determine whether the vaccines are safe and effective.
Officials at Moderna, whose vaccine is being tested in 30,000 volunteers, have said their studies could produce a result by the end of the year, although the final analysis could take place next spring.
Pfizer executives, who have expanded their clinical trial to 44,000 participants, boast that they could know their vaccine works by the end of October.
AstraZeneca’s U.S. vaccine trial, which was scheduled to enroll 30,000 volunteers, is on hold pending an investigation of a possible vaccine-related illness.
Scientists have warned for months that the Trump administration could try to win the election with an “October surprise,” authorizing a vaccine that hasn’t been fully tested. “I don’t think people are crazy to be thinking about all of this,” said William Schultz, a partner in a Washington, D.C., law firm who served as a former FDA commissioner for policy and as general counsel for HHS.
“You’ve got a president saying you’ll have an approval in October. Everybody’s wondering how that could happen.”
In an opinion piece published in The Wall Street Journal, conservative former FDA commissioners Scott Gottlieb and Mark McClellan argued that presidential intrusion was unlikely because the FDA’s “thorough and transparent process doesn’t lend itself to meddling. Any deviation would quickly be apparent.”
But the administration has demonstrated a willingness to bend the agency to its will. The FDA has been criticized for issuing emergency authorizations for two COVID-19 treatments that were boosted by the president but lacked strong evidence to support them: hydroxychloroquine and convalescent plasma.
Azar has sidelined the FDA in other ways, such as by blocking the agency from regulating lab-developed tests, including tests for the novel coronavirus.
Although FDA Commissioner Stephen Hahn told the Financial Times he would be willing to approve emergency use of a vaccine before large-scale studies conclude, agency officials also have pledged to ensure the safety of any COVID-19 vaccines.
A senior FDA official who oversees vaccine approvals, Dr. Peter Marks, has said he will quit if his agency rubber-stamps an unproven COVID-19 vaccine.
“I think there would be an outcry from the public health community second to none, which is my worst nightmare — my worst nightmare — because we will so confuse the public,” said Dr. Michael Osterholm, director of the Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy at the University of Minnesota, in his weekly podcast.
Still, “even if a company did not want it to be done, even if the FDA did not want it to be done, he could still do that,” said Osterholm, in his podcast. “I hope that we’d never see that happen, but we have to entertain that’s a possibility.”
But Trump would have to sue a company to enforce the Defense Production Act, and the company would have a strong case in refusing, said Lawrence Gostin, director of Georgetown’s O’Neill Institute for National and Global Health Law.
Also, he noted that Trump could not invoke the Defense Production Act unless a vaccine were “scientifically justified and approved by the FDA.”
Officially, the total repayment of the loan is due this month. Otherwise, federal regulators will stop reimbursing the hospitals for Medicare patients' treatments until the loan is repaid in full.
This article was published on Tuesday, September 22, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Note to Readers: Sarah Jane Tribble spent more than a year and halfreporting on a small town in Kansas that lost its only hospital. This month, KHN and St. Louis Public Radio will launch "Where It Hurts," a podcast exploring the often painful cracks growing in America's health system that leave people vulnerable — and without the care they need. Season One is "No Mercy," focusing on the hospital closure in Fort Scott, Kansas — and what happens to the people left behind, surviving the best way they know how. You can listen to Episode One on Tuesday, Sept. 29.
David Usher is sitting on $1.7 million he's scared to spend.
The money lent from the federal government is meant to help hospitals and other healthcare providers weather the COVID-19 pandemic. Yet some hospital administrators have called it a payday loan program that is now, brutally, due for repayment at a time when they still need help.
Coronavirus cases have "picked up recently and it's quite worrying," said Usher, chief financial officer at the 12-bed Edwards County Medical Center in rural western Kansas. Usher said he would like to use the money to build a negative-pressure room, a common strategy to keep contagious patients apart from those in the rest of the hospital.
But he's not sure it's safe to spend that cash. Officially, the total repayment of the loan is due this month. Otherwise, according to the loan's terms, federal regulators will stop reimbursing the hospitals for Medicare patients' treatments until the loan is repaid in full.
The federal Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services has not yet begun trying to recoup its money, with the coronavirus still affecting communities nationwide, but hospital leaders fear it may come calling for repayment any day now.
Hospital leaders across the country said there has been no communication from CMS on whether or when they will adjust the repayment deadline. A CMS spokesperson had not responded to questions by press time.
"It's great having the money," Usher said. "But if I don't know how much I get to keep, I don't get to spend the money wisely and effectively on the facility."
Usher took out the loan from Medicare's Accelerated and Advance Payments program. The program, which existed long before the pandemic, was generally used sparingly by hospitals faced with emergencies such as hurricanes or tornadoes. It was expanded for use during the coronavirus pandemic — part of billions approved in federal relief funds for healthcare providers this spring.
A full repayment of a hospital's loan is technically due 120 days after it was received. If it is not paid, Medicare will stop reimbursing claims until it recoups the money it is owed — a point spelled out in the program's rules. Medicare reimburses nearly $60 billion in payments to healthcare providers nationwide under Medicare's Part A program, which makes payments to hospitals.
More than 65% of the nation's small, rural hospitals — many of which were operating at a deficit before the pandemic — jumped at the Medicare loans when the pandemic hit because they were the first funds available, said Maggie Elehwany, former vice president of government affairs for the National Rural Health Association.
CMS halted new loan applications to the program at the end of April.
"The pandemic has simply gone on longer than anyone anticipated back in March," said Joanna Hiatt Kim, vice president of payment policy and analysis for the American Hospital Association. The trade association sent a letter to CMS in late July asking for a delay in the recoupment.
On Monday, the House Appropriations Committee included partial relief for all hospitals in a new government funding plan. The committee's proposal would extend the start of the repayment period for hospitals and the amount of time they are allowed to take to repay.
The continuing resolution that includes this language about relief for hospitals (among many, many other things) is still being hammered out, though it does face its own deadline: It must be approved by the House and the Senate within the next nine days or the federal government faces a shutdown.
Tom Nickels, executive vice president at the AHA, said his organization appreciates the House committee's effort to address the loans in the new bill, but full forgiveness of the loans is still needed.
Sen. Jeanne Shaheen (D-N.H.) has called for changes to the loan repayment period for months and said Monday "our work is far from over."
"We are still in the middle of this crisis — from both health and economic standpoints," Shaheen said.
Meanwhile, hospital administrators like Peter Wright are holding their breath, waiting to see if, in order to settle the debt, Medicare will stop making payments to hospitals, even as facilities continue to grapple with coronavirus in their communities.
"The feds, if you owe them money, they just take it," said Wright, who oversees two small hospitals for Central Maine Healthcare in Bridgton, Maine. He said his healthcare system took the money because "we had no other choice; it was a cash flow issue."
For many hospitals, Medicare payments make up 40% or more of their revenue. Not being reimbursed by Medicare would be crippling — akin to a household losing nearly half its income.
"We have no idea what we're going to do if we have to pay it back as quickly as they say," Wright said.
In rural Kentucky, hospital executive Sheila Currans said she "vacillated" for about a week or so trying to decide whether to tap the loan program for her hospital — she knew it would have to be repaid and worried that could prove difficult.
"It was a desperate time," said Currans, chief executive of Harrison Memorial Hospital in Cynthiana, Kentucky. Harrison Memorial was the first hospital in Kentucky to treat a COVID-19 patient in early March, she said.
The hospital immediately quarantined dozens of staff members and shut down elective procedures. And with COVID confirmed in the community, there was a "horrible fear," Currans said, of getting infected that kept people from seeking outpatient care as well.
"Through March and April and most of May, I was in a complete spiral," Currans said. By the end of April, Currans said, her hospital was losing millions of dollars. To cope with the pandemic, she furloughed staff and turned one wing of the hospital into a "cough clinic" to be used exclusively by patients whose symptoms suggested they might be infected with the coronavirus.
Currans said the hospital is still seeing COVID cases, but patients are beginning to return for other services, such as outpatient clinics.
In terms of the hospital's finances, "it's still not a wonderful time," Currans said. The Medicare loan "as well as all the other support from the federal government helped us at least — for now — survive it."
She's hoping the repayment demand will be pushed back to 2021 or, perhaps the loan will be forgiven.
"I know it's a pipe dream," Currans said. "But this has been a historic event."
As drug prices spiral upward, politicians in Washington, D.C., and in state governments have sought to address the problem in limited ways, focusing mostly on one drug: insulin.
This article was published on Tuesday, September 22, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Michael Costanzo, a Colorado farmer diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2016, has a well-honed ritual: Every six months, he takes an IV infusion of a medicine, Rituxan, to manage his disease, which has no cure. Then he figures out how to manage the bill, which costs thousands of dollars.
For a time, the routine held steady: The price billed to his health insurance for one infusion would cost $6,201 to $6,841. Costanzo's health insurance covered most of it, and he paid the rest out-of-pocket.
But last fall the cost for the same 20-year-old drug and dosage jumped to $10,320, even though he was covered by the same insurance.
"Why does it have to increase in price all of a sudden?" wondered Costanzo, who lives in a small town about 50 miles north of Denver.
"I think greed is a huge problem," he said.
As drug prices spiral upward, politicians in Washington, D.C., and in state governments across the country have sought to address the problem in limited ways, focusing mostly on one drug: insulin, a drug more than 7 million Americans rely on to manage diabetes and whose price tag more than doubled from 2012 to 2017.
With comprehensive drug price legislation stalled in Washington during the COVID-19 state of emergency, seven states in the midst of the pandemic enacted insulin payment caps of less than $100 per month, bringing the total to eight; five more have proposed legislation. In March, President Donald Trump's health officials announced a Medicare test project limiting seniors' monthly out-of-pocket costs to $35. In July, he signed four executive actions targeting insulin and a handful of other medications, boasting, "It's going to have an incredible impact."
Insulin took center stage last year, after moving demonstrations by mothers who caravanned to Canada to buy lifesaving medicine for their children at a tenth of the U.S. price; they swarmed the halls of Congress.
The measures that have resulted so far have not solved a far more widespread problem: escalating drug prices across the board — a problem that voters, left and right, say Congress must fix.
Underlying the problem is that lawmakers spent much of last year at loggerheads about whether the federal government should have the power to set prices or limit price increases. Prospects of comprehensive legislation already in the works slipped away this spring as Congress turned its focus to the COVID-19 pandemic that has killed more than 150,000 Americans and tanked the country's economy.
So state lawmakers played whack-a-mole, targeting the drug with the most notoriety, and tackled insulin's cost to patients. But patients like Costanzo — among the millions who rely on other vital drugs — struggle evermore to afford unchecked price increases for everything from HIV/AIDS and depression to asthma, autoimmune disorders and Type 2 diabetes.
A 2019 survey from the Scripps Research Translational Institute published in the Journal of the American Medical Association found that the costs of 17 top-selling brand-name drugs more than doubled from 2012 to 2017. Many of the drugs that made the list are household names: Lipitor and Zetia for high cholesterol, Advair and Symbicort for asthma, Lyrica for pain and Chantix for smoking cessation.
"The general public doesn't realize this is happening with all sorts of drugs," Costanzo said. "We're all suffering from increased prices."
Insulin was a natural poster child for pharmaceutical greed, encapsulating America's problem with high drug prices in a neat package that few, if any, other medications do as effectively.
"You have an illustration of the problem — politics gone awry and capitalism gone awry," said Celinda Lake, a veteran Democratic pollster. "They think of it as being emblematic of everything that's going on with the system."
Three pharmaceutical companies dominate the market for the diabetes treatment that has essentially the same formula as when it was introduced in the 1920s. Not taking insulin can quickly turn fatal. In 2017, Minnesota resident Alec Smith died at age 26 after rationing his insulin because he couldn't afford it.
People dying "is what it takes for Congress to actually commit money and act, and then we solve these problems eventually," said Andy Slavitt, who was acting head of the U.S. Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services in the Obama administration.
Yet proponents of lowering drug costs say an effort centered on a single drug could backfire, and it did when COVID captured center stage.
"Everywhere in this country people are angry about their drug prices," said David Mitchell, founder of Patients for Affordable Drugs Now, a Washington, D.C.-based group that lobbies Congress and runs campaign ads in support of lower prices. "The people with cancer, the people with autoimmune problems, the people with multiple sclerosis, the people who are taking a variety of drugs that are wildly overpriced, are going to say, 'Now, wait a minute, what about me?'"
In early March, University of Pittsburgh researchers published research finding that, without discounts, list prices of brand-name drugs were rising about 9% a year. Late last year, House Democrats passed a bill that would let the federal government set prices for hundreds of drugs and cap seniors' out-of-pocket costs for medication at $2,000. Trump opposed the bill, calling on Congress to send him a drug pricing bill that has bipartisan support.
"Let's be clear — these price hikes aren't because the medicines got better or there was a significant increase in research and development," said Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa) in a March 5 floor speech. The chairman of the Senate's powerful Finance Committee spearheaded a bipartisan drug pricing bill with Oregon Sen. Ron Wyden, a Democrat. "No, this was because the pharmaceutical companies could do it and get away with it."
While Congress dithers and the topic periodically becomes the subject of a presidential tweet, patients continue to fend for themselves.
Tara Terminiello has seen the total underlying cost of her son's anti-seizure medication, Topamax, skyrocket to about $1,300 a month, hundreds more than when he started taking it over a decade ago.
In Texas, Joseph Fabian, a public school teacher in San Antonio with health insurance through his job, has relied on inhalers since childhood to manage his allergy-induced asthma. In February 2019, he paid $330.98 for a three-pack of Symbicort inhalers, which he typically uses twice a day but more frequently during allergy season.
A year later and after a change in his health insurance plan, Fabian's costs tripled, to $348.95 for a single inhaler, he said in an interview. According to the Scripps' drug pricing study, the median cost of Symbicort rose from $225 in January 2012 to $308 in December 2017.
"There's no way I can keep working out $350 every month and a half," Fabian said.
Chances that Congress will pass comprehensive drug pricing legislation before the 2020 election have slipped away as lawmakers focus on additional COVID-19 relief. Moreover, the Trump administration, Congress and the public are now hoping for pandemic deliverance by the very same drug companies that have been raising prices as they develop potential virus treatments and vaccines. PhRMA, the powerful industry trade group, has seized the moment with ad campaigns emphasizing the sector's enormous value.
The stalemate provides little solace for patients like Costanzo, whose medicine, Rituxan, made by Genentech, was first approved by the Food and Drug Administration in 1997 to treat lymphoma and can be used off-label for MS. It is one of seven medications with price increases unsupported by new clinical evidence, according to a report from the Institute for Clinical and Economic Review. ICER noted that over 24 months, the net price — the price after any discounts from drug companies are factored in — "increased by almost 14%, which results in an estimated increase in drug spending of approximately $549 million."
In a statement, Genentech spokesperson Priscilla White said ICER's analysis was "significantly limited" because it didn't account for "meaningful, high-quality, and peer-reviewed evidence supporting the clinical and economic benefits of Rituxan." White said the company did not increase Rituxan's price during the period in which Costanzo's bill rose and wouldn't speculate on the change without knowing "other factors" that may have contributed.
"We take decisions related to the prices of our medicines very seriously, taking into consideration their value to patients and society, the investments required to continue discovering new treatments, and the need for broad access," she said.
Costanzo was prescribed the drug by two neurologists and hasn't had any acute relapses since he started the infusions. He eventually did get a financial reprieve, not thanks to Washington, but by enrolling in a patient discount program operated by the very drug company that sets Rituxan's price, a program he said was an "absolute lifesaver" financially.
Genentech said its patient foundation provides free medicine to more than 50,000 patients each year. Costanzo got his first free dose in July.
Ginsburg's absence from the bench could accelerate a trend underway to get cases to the Supreme Court toward invalidating the ACA and rolling back reproductive freedoms for women.
This article was published on Monday, September 21, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
By Julie Rovner On Feb. 27, 2018, I got an email from the Heritage Foundation, alerting me to a news conference that afternoon held by Republican attorneys general of Texas and other states. It was referred to only as a "discussion about the Affordable Care Act lawsuit."
I sent the following note to my editor: "I'm off to the Hill anyway. I could stop by this. You never know what it might morph into."
Few people took that case very seriously — barely a handful of reporters attended the news conference. But it has now "morphed into" the latest existential threat against the Affordable Care Act, scheduled for oral arguments at the Supreme Court a week after the general election in November. And with the death of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg on Friday, that case could well morph into the threat that brings down the law in its entirety.
Democrats are raising alarms about the future of the law without Ginsburg. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, speaking on ABC's "This Week" Sunday morning, said that part of the strategy by President Donald Trump and Senate Republicans to quickly fill her seat was to help undermine the ACA.
"The president is rushing to make some kind of a decision because … Nov. 10 is when the arguments begin on the Affordable Care Act," she said. "He doesn't want to crush the virus. He wants to crush the Affordable Care Act."
Ginsburg's death throws an already chaotic general election campaign during a pandemic into more turmoil. But in the longer term, her absence from the bench could accelerate a trend underway to get cases to the Supreme Court toward invalidating the ACA and rolling back reproductive freedoms for women.
Let's take them one at a time.
The ACA Under Fire — Again
The GOP attorneys general argued in February 2018 that the Republican-sponsored tax cut bill Congress passed two months earlier had rendered the ACA unconstitutional by reducing to zero the ACA's penalty for not having insurance. They based their argument on Chief Justice John Roberts' 2012 conclusion that the ACA was valid, interpreting that penalty as a constitutionally appropriate tax.
Most legal scholars, including several who challenged the law before the Supreme Court in 2012 and again in 2015, find the argument that the entire law should fall to be unconvincing. "If courts invalidate an entire law merely because Congress eliminates or revises one part, as happened here, that may well inhibit necessary reform of federal legislation in the future by turning it into an 'all or nothing' proposition," wrote a group of conservative and liberal law professors in a brief filed in the case.
Still, in December 2018, U.S. District Judge Reed O'Connor in Texas accepted the GOP argument and declared the law unconstitutional. In December 2019, a three-judge 5th Circuit appeals court panel in New Orleans agreed that without the penalty the requirement to buy insurance is unconstitutional. But it sent the case back to O'Connor to suggest that perhaps the entire law need not fall.
Not wanting to wait the months or years that reconsideration would take, Democratic attorneys general defending the ACA asked the Supreme Court to hear the case this year. (Democrats are defending the law in court because the Trump administration decided to support the GOP attorneys general's case.) The court agreed to take the case but scheduled arguments for the week after the November election.
While the fate of the ACA was and is a live political issue, few legal observers were terribly worried about the legal outcome of the case now known as Texas v. California, if only because the case seemed much weaker than the 2012 and 2015 cases in which Roberts joined the court's four liberals. In the 2015 case, which challenged the validity of federal tax subsidies helping millions of Americans buy health insurance on the ACA's marketplaces, both Roberts and now-retired Justice Anthony Kennedy voted to uphold the law.
But without Ginsburg, the case could wind up in a 4-4 tie, even if Roberts supports the law's constitutionality. That could let the lower-court ruling stand, although it would not be binding on other courts outside of the 5th Circuit. The court could also put off the arguments or, if the Republican Senate replaces Ginsburg with another conservative justice before arguments are heard, Republicans could secure a 5-4 ruling against the law. Some court observers argue that Justice Brett Kavanaugh has not favored invalidating an entire statute if only part of it is flawed and might not approve overturning the ACA. Still, what started out as an effort to energize Republican voters for the 2018 midterms after Congress failed to "repeal and replace" the health law in 2017 could end up throwing the nation's entire health system into chaos.
At least 20 million Americans — and likely many more who sought coverage since the start of the coronavirus pandemic — who buy insurance through the ACA marketplaces or have Medicaid through the law's expansion could lose coverage right away. Many millions more would lose the law's popular protections guaranteeing coverage for people with preexisting health conditions, including those who have had COVID-19.
Adult children under age 26 would no longer be guaranteed the right to remain on their parents' health plans, and Medicare patients would lose enhanced prescription drug coverage. Women would lose guaranteed access to birth control at no out-of-pocket cost.
But a sudden elimination would affect more than just healthcare consumers. Insurance companies, drug companies, hospitals and doctors have all changed the way they do business because of incentives and penalties in the health law. If it's struck down, many of the "rules of the road" would literally be wiped away, including billing and payment mechanisms.
A new Democratic president could not drop the lawsuit, because the Trump administration is not the plaintiff (the GOP attorneys general are). But a Democratic Congress and president could in theory make the entire issue go away by reinstating the penalty for failure to have insurance, even at a minimal amount. However, as far as the health law goes, for now, nothing is a sure thing.
As Nicholas Bagley, a law professor at the University of Michigan who specializes in health issues, tweeted: "Among other things, the Affordable Care Act now dangles from a thread."
Reproductive Rights
A woman's right to abortion — and even to birth control — also has been hanging by a thread at the high court for more than a decade. This past term, Roberts joined the liberals to invalidate a Louisiana law that would have closed most of the state's abortion clinics, but he made it clear it was not a vote for abortion rights. The Louisiana law was too similar to a Texas law the court (without his vote) struck down in 2016, Roberts argued.
Ginsburg had been a stalwart supporter of reproductive freedom for women. In her nearly three decades on the court, she always voted with backers of abortion rights and birth control and led the dissenters in 2007 when the court upheld a federal ban on a specific abortion procedure.
Adding a justice opposed to abortion to the bench — which is what Trump has promised his supporters — would almost certainly tilt the court in favor of far more dramatic restrictions on the procedure and possibly an overturn of the landmark 1973 ruling Roe v. Wade.
But not only is abortion on the line. The court in recent years has repeatedly ruled that employerswith religious objections can refuse to provide contraception.
For Ginsburg, those issues came down to a clear question of a woman's guarantee of equal status under the law.
"Women, it is now acknowledged, have the talent, capacity, and right 'to participate equally in the economic and social life of the Nation,'" she wrote in her dissent in that 2007 abortion case. "Their ability to realize their full potential, the Court recognized, is intimately connected to 'their ability to control their reproductive lives.''
The first five months of the COVID-19 pandemic in California rank among the deadliest in state history, deadlier than any other consecutive five-month period in at least 20 years.
And the grim milestone encompasses thousands of "excess" deaths not accounted for in the state's official COVID death tally: a loss of life concentrated among Blacks, Asians and Latinos, afflicting people who experts say likely didn't get preventive medical care amid the far-reaching shutdowns or who were wrongly excluded from the coronavirus death count.
About 125,000 Californians died from March through July, up by 14,200, or 13%, from the average for the same five months during the prior three years, according to a review of datafrom the state Department of Public Health.
By the end of July, California had logged about 9,200 deaths officially attributed to COVID-19 in county death records. That left about 5,000 "excess" deaths for those months — meaning deaths above the norm not attributed to COVID-19. Deaths tend to increase from year to year as the population grows, but typically not by that much.
A closer look at California's excess deaths during the period reveal a disturbing racial and ethnic variance: All the excess deaths not officially linked to COVID infection were concentrated in minority communities. Latinos make up the vast majority, accounting for 3,350 of those excess deaths, followed by Asians (1,150), Blacks (860) and other Californians of color (350).
The overall number of excess deaths across all races and ethnicities was ultimately tempered because, compared with the three prior years, there were actually 383 fewer deaths among white Californians than would be expected in the absence of COVID-19. In addition, California Healthline adjusted the overall numbers to reflect more than 320 COVID deaths that could not be categorized by race or ethnicity because that information was missing from state records.
Several epidemiologists interviewed said they believe a sizable portion of the excess deaths among people of color did, in fact, stem from COVID infections but went undetected for a variety of reasons. Among them: a shortage of coronavirus tests in the early months of the pandemic; an uneven strategy for how and when to administer those tests, which persists; and inadequate access to healthcare providers in many low-income and immigrant communities.
Dr. Kirsten Bibbins-Domingo, chair of the Department of Epidemiology and Biostatistics at the University of California-San Francisco, is among those who suspect the excess deaths reflect a COVID undercount in minority communities. She noted that several chronic health conditions that disproportionately affect Blacks and Latinos — including diabetes, high blood pressure and heart disease — also place them at higher risk for severe complications from COVID-19.
In addition, Bibbins-Domingo said, the prolonged shutdown of medical offices in the early months of the pandemic — and with them non-urgent surgeries and routine medical care — likely accelerated death among people with those chronic conditions.
"Shutdowns always come at a cost," she said. "It is our most marginalized communities that experience the cost of a shutdown."
According to state Department of Public Health data, deaths in California attributed to diabetes rose 12% from March through July when compared with the average for the same period over the past three years. In addition, deaths attributed to Alzheimer's disease rose 11%.
"Dementia is also a disease where we have racial, ethnic minorities already at greater risk," said Andrea Polonijo, a medical sociologist at the University of California-Riverside. "Now that we have the pandemic, they're more socially isolated. Social isolation we know can cause deeper cognitive decline."
It's hard to determine whether a death is due to COVID-19 if the victim never sought medical care, said Jeffrey Reynoso, executive director of the nonprofit Latino Coalition for a Healthy California. Latinos in California are less likely to have health insurance, he said. They may face language barriers if their medical provider — or contact tracer — does not speak Spanish. Latino immigrants working in the U.S. without authorization may hesitate to visit the doctor.
"Immigration is definitely a driver in creating a fear and a mistrust of systems, and that includes our healthcare system," Reynoso said.
Polonijo said the fact that Latinos make up the bulk of the excess deaths correlates with their dominant role in farming, meat processing, manufacturing and food service, jobs all deemed essential during the pandemic.
"This population is also more likely to live in more crowded conditions," she said. "So not only are they exposed at work, but they are bringing disease home and with it the possibility of spreading it to their family, bringing it to the community."
Bibbins-Domingo noted that, while a major portion of COVID deaths overall have occurred among seniors and nursing home residents, a disproportionate number of the state's excess deaths are of working-age adults.
"The excess deaths that we're seeing in communities of color and in low-income communities are deaths that are occurring at younger ages," she said. "These are deaths that are occurring in these ages from 20 to 60, generally speaking — the ages when people would be out working."
Kathy Ko Chin, president of the Oakland-based Asian & Pacific Islander American Health Forum, said Asian Americans also tend to be overrepresented in essential worker occupations, noting that a large proportion of the state's nurses are Filipino. In addition, she said, government officials have not done enough to translate COVID educational materials into the many languages spoken by California's Asian Americans. The Trump administration's rhetoric on immigration during the past four years, she added, has had a "chilling effect" that has kept many foreign-born Asian Americans from visiting a doctor.
"People were really, really scared," Chin said.
Counties in Southern California and the largely rural Central Valley — places with a high proportion of Latino residents — tended to have high rates of excess deaths from March to July. Among counties with at least 100,000 people, Kings County, an arid expanse north of Los Angeles that is home to industrial-scale agriculture, had the highest rate of excess deaths per capita.
Officials at the Kings County Department of Public Health did not return a message seeking comment.
Bibbins-Domingo and others said it is important for state and county health officials to take a hard look at their excess death numbers. Excess deaths matter, she said, because they expose shortcomings in healthcare delivery. In addition, local and state responses to COVID-19 are grounded in data; if that data is inaccurate, the responses may be misguided.
"Deaths are important because they also help us to understand how much severe COVID is there in the community that we have to worry about," Bibbins-Domingo said. "I think when we undercount that, we both fly blind for the overall pandemic management, and we might fly particularly blind in understanding the impact of the pandemic in particular communities."
Phillip Reese is a data reporting specialist and an assistant professor of journalism at California State University-Sacramento.
Heather Steadman, a nurse at a CSL Plasma donation center near Pittsburgh, was about to enter a tiny closed-door room to administer an exam when the doctor handed her a mask in a translucent wrapper labeled KN95. The folded white mask, visible behind Chinese characters, was all her employer was providing to protect her from COVID-19.
Over a nearly 20-year career, she'd worn certified respirators in intensive care units and cared for patients dying from respiratory disease. That night in late June, she was about to lean into the face of a stranger, checking his throat and peering into his eyes, guarded only by a mask of questionable origin.
"There were just red flags all over it," she said of the mask, which corporate records show was advertised to employees as just as good as the vaunted American-made N95 respirator at stopping the spread of the coronavirus.
She stared at the doctor incredulously, then marched to a nearby storage hutch. She plunged her hand into a blue box of 50 or so masks, then two more boxes, like a kid frantically scrounging through cereal boxes for a magic ring.
From each, she pulled out a sheet of paper, hoping for evidence that the masks had been cleared as effective by the U.S. government — from the federal Food and Drug Administration, maybe, or the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, NIOSH, which certifies N95s that can filter out 95% of particles.
Instead, she read aloud the first line of English: "NOT for medical purpose."
Steadman, 41, had been in a standoff with her employer for months over inadequate personal protective equipment. She'd gone on leave in April, pressing CSL to provide decent masks. She'd complained, without success, to the federal Occupational Safety and Health Administration, which is supposed to ensure safe workplaces. Other CSL employees across the country had made similar complaints. Ten weeks later, though her complaints had been dismissed, she returned because the company said workers now had access to medical-grade masks.
CSL, a leader in the global plasma industry, says it was adhering to federal guidelines to protect front-line workers as it geared up a major national push — endorsed by President Donald Trump — to secure blood plasma donations from recovered COVID-19 patients. The FDA had authorized emergency use of convalescent plasma therapy as a treatment for the severely ill, despite a lack of scientific proof that it saves lives.
Steadman and other blood plasma workers feared a new level of risk as donors came in from the street and attested that they had been symptom-free for 14 days. The workers knew what the studies said: People looking to be paid in exchange for being stuck with a needle are more likely to conceal illness than those without financial incentive.
"These are not people that are going to tell me that they're sick," Steadman told me.
This, on top of the routine flow of non-COVID-19 donors coming in for $40 a draw, mostly poor people in high-risk groups, such as those working "essential" jobs where infections can spread wildly. A plasma donation involves repeated and prolonged contact with staff — in the reception area, in waiting rooms, during physical exams in closed spaces and when blood is drawn.
The company said it was following all federal guidelines, although no agency had quantified the dangers posed to workers like Steadman due to stepped-up plasma donations. Steadman had seen the many reports of counterfeit masks making their way to hospitals, endangering nurses and doctors. Rather than face what she saw as "imminent danger," Steadman told CSL she wouldn't return until she had assurances the company was providing safe masks. She also filed another OSHA complaint.
After weeks of waiting for regulators to act, she contacted ProPublica. She sent correspondence, CSL training materials, internal social media posts and samples of three masks from CSL's stockpile. She'd spent hours trying to track the masks' origins, to see if her colleagues were adequately protected, and none of the Chinese KN95s provided were at the time on the FDA's authorized list of masks that are roughly comparable to U.S.-approved N95s.
"They literally bought some off Amazon," she said, referring to records the company gave to OSHA.
Her story offers a glimpse into the confusion, anxiety and fear wrought by lax government oversight of the coronavirus mask market, where intense demand and low supply bred graft and fraud and left some front-line healthcare workers reliant on face coverings that might or might not work.
I'd spent the last six months delving into the murky world of PPE, tracking foreign vendors and middlemen, and documenting price gouging and questionable contracts. All of it unfolded against a backdrop of confusing and evolving guidance from the federal government.
When Steadman and some other CSL workers agreed to talk, I got in my car and made the windy four-hour drive to the strip mall in McKeesport, Pennsylvania, where they worked.
The parking lot of the Olympia Shopping Center could be artfully rendered in pencil and pastel and slapped on a postcard labeled "Poverty, U.S.A." There's a payday loan store, a Dollar Tree, a Rent-A-Center, a shuttered Payless ShoeSource and in the corner, the glowing red sign of CSL Plasma.
With unemployment at near-record highs, CSL had made donating plasma an attractive option and mobilized workers nationwide to recruit new donors. In McKeesport, it offered a $100 cash bonus to donors who could prove they'd once tested positive for COVID-19 and advertised that regular donors could make about $700 monthly.
As FDA Hypes, OSHA Chills
CSL has more than 260 U.S. plasma donation centers with plans to open dozens more next year. Based in Australia, the company is proud of a history that spans from its early use of plasma to beat diphtheria a century ago to helping develop the swine flu vaccine a decade ago. With $2.2 billion in profits last year, CSL gave out a record dividend to U.S. shareholders.
Its business seems poised to get even better.
An alliance of research institutions, plasma banks and drug companies promotes donations through "The Fight Is In Us" campaign, pitched online and on TV by stars such as Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson and Helen Mirren who urge COVID-19 survivors to visit plasma centers including CSL's. The Trump administration has praised the initiative andrefers donors to the alliance.
Since the pandemic's early days, the administration has been pushing plasma donations and cleared the way for a limited study to see if treatments of concentrated antibodies, derived from the serum surrounding the blood cells of COVID-19 survivors, could help others recover.
In late August, the FDA opened the door for widespread use of convalescent plasma therapy, citing a study that kinda sorta showed the potential upsides of the treatment outweighed the risks. In doing so, FDA Commissioner Stephen Hahn claimed that the treatment could have saved 35 out of 100 patients, a statement he later recanted after scientists called it a gross exaggeration. Still, Alex Azar, secretary of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, called the approval of convalescent plasma therapy a "milestone achievement in President Trump's efforts to save lives from COVID-19."
This pushed CSL into high gear.
Weeks earlier, CSL Limited CEO Paul Perreault had made the case for the industry-led race to get antibody-laden plasma in a roundtable appearance with Trump and other federal officials at the American Red Cross headquarters in Washington.
"We need plasma. We need plasma donors. We need them wherever they are," Perreault told Trump.
Aside from the president's support, the company had also enlisted top pharmaceutical lobbyists to press the value of plasma therapy in Washington.
But many unknowns remained. Trump's administration skipped the tedious — and, scientists say, important — step of a randomized controlled study, comparing outcomes of patients who got plasma therapy with those who didn't. And while federal agencies stressed that plasma donation centers should remain open during the pandemic to keep the nation's blood supply flowing, worker safety went largely unmentioned.
Tom Inglesby, a director at Johns Hopkins' Center for Health Security, said the risk to workers in plasma donation centers depends on the spread in each community. The bigger risk, he said, might not be the people who have recovered from COVID-19 but all the other donors who are being let in without prior screening to a place where infections can spread easily.
"If I were working in this type of facility, I would like to have an N95 mask," Inglesby said.
"You'd have to call these people healthcare professionals, for sure. They're drawing blood."
Since March, OSHA has received about a dozen COVID-19-related workplace safety complaints from CSL workers in Pennsylvania, Indiana, Michigan, Minnesota and Texas. Half were about inadequate PPE such as masks, the rest about fear the company wasn't enforcing public health guidelines.
In late May, for instance, a Houston employee reported that a staff member tested positive and "six people working near the infected person were quarantined," according to OSHA data.
"Other staff members are being sent out to work at other locations," that complaint stated, "exacerbating the spread."
Contracts, emails and spreadsheets that Juanita and Dawn Ramos shared with ProPublica detail how domestic and foreign investors, many with marijuana industry ties, seized upon the nation's public health disaster.
Anthony Farina, CSL's spokesman, said OSHA has assessed no penalties based on these complaints.
"CSL Plasma has cooperated promptly with all requests for information, and has routinely shared documentation of our safety practices in place to prevent exposure. The company also investigated the allegations and reviewed our applicable requirements to confirm compliance with appropriate OSHA COVID-19 guidance," his statement said.
All but three of those cases were closed.
Debbie Berkowitz, a former top OSHA official in the Obama administration, said Steadman's journey is part of a larger trend. "OSHA has decided not to enforce the law and has abandoned its mission," she said. "Workers are on their own."
The agency has received more than 33,000 COVID-19-related complaints, according to OSHA data. More than two-thirds of those are closed. Nearly 9,000 complaints were about PPE at work.
She was particularly concerned about a company presentation that told CSL workers that KN95s, approved under Chinese standards, were just as good as N95s, approved by U.S. scientists.
Providing questionable Chinese masks "and sort of implying to workers that this is like an N95 — that is completely deceiving and dangerous because it gives these workers a false sense of security," Berkowitz said.
Afraid at Work
The angst among CSL workers began in March, when corporate guidance stated that "a mask does not adequately protect healthy people from an infection of coronavirus." In fairness, this was around the time U.S. Surgeon General Jerome Adams sent out a tweet he'd later recant:
"Seriously people- STOP BUYING MASKS! They are NOT effective in preventing general public from catching #Coronavirus"
CSL employees, including managers, described an internal tracker on the company's network showing hundreds of employees took leave from March through September because they were either exposed to COVID-19, sick or afraid. None of those workers were able to share raw data. CSL did not directly respond.
Steadman shared emails that hint at concern sweeping through CSL as employee absences shuttered entire centers.
March 17: "Due to staff illness, the Hillsboro [Florida] 126 center will delay opening …"
March 27: "Little Rock [Arkansas] 234 is closed due to staffing issues."
March 30: "... Peoria [Arizona] closed for the day due to staffing issues."
The company shared online presentations outlining evolving pandemic guidelines. On April 10, it told workers that N95 respirators effectively filtered out airborne contaminants. But the company wasn't supplying them and mask use was voluntary.
Later correspondence indicates masks were not required because the company had no OSHA-approved respiratory program, which involves training on how to wear them and fit testing to ensure proper use.
That week, Steadman lodged her first complaint to management, took leave and complained to OSHA.
"I continued to work in good faith, despite genuinely believing that imminent danger exists," she wrote in a lengthy letter to CSL management. "However, the policy for 'recovered donors' is a risk I am not willing to take."
The drumbeat of staff absences indicated she was not alone in her fear.
April 17: "Taylor 240 [Pennsylvania] temporarily closed due to staffing issues."
On May 4, soon after the FDA gave emergency use authorization to import masks from 80 little-known Chinese manufacturers, the company announced it wasn't distributing those gold-standard N95s. It was instead providing Chinese KN95s. And 10 days later, a presentation told employees there was "very little difference in certification requirements between a N95 and KN95."
But company records show the three brands of KN95s CSL purchased and distributed were not on the FDA's list of Chinese masks that are roughly comparable to N95s and suitable for healthcare workers. And all three used earloops, which can be less snug than those that wrap around the head.
The move to distribute Chinese KN95s didn't halt the ongoing staff issues.
June 21: "... Homestead [Pennsylvania] unable to open due to staffing."
Meanwhile, CSL continued to aggressively recruit donors who had recovered from COVID-19, with workers posting flyers and hanging signs across the country, according to internal social media posts, some of which show workers improperly wearing KN95s.
Weeks passed, so Steadman called OSHA. She was told to file a new complaint. Too much time had passed. So she did.
In early July, OSHA told the company that regulators wouldn't investigate Steadman's updated complaint, deferring to CSL to look into it.
CSL reported to OSHA that its investigation had found no problem. A July 15 follow-up from corporate headquarters in Boca Raton, Florida, gave details about CSL's masks, including pictures and a snapshot of thousands apparently purchased through Amazon. According to CSL, the masks were sourced by the Utah-based medical equipment company HemaSource. Executives at HemaSource did not respond to messages from ProPublica.
"CSL Plasma has advised me that the hazards you complained about have been investigated. The employer states that the hazards have been corrected," Area Director Christopher Robinson wrote. "With this information, OSHA feels the case can be closed."
Steadman believed the mask details provided to OSHA demanded further inquiry.
"Who's going to make sure people have safe masks if not OSHA?" she said.
She rebutted her employer's response in a document that reads like a prosecutor's exhibit.
"Every certificate provided in this document is easily identifiable as plagiarized, and fits each criterion from the [Centers for Disease Control and Prevention] and NIOSH on identifying counterfeit masks and falsified documents," she wrote on July 19.
Here's where Steadman descended into the maddening vortex that's subsumed my reporting these last six months. After the FDA opened the gates for masks from China, later reversing course as junk masks ended up in healthcare settings, it became pretty dang hard to tell what was what. This is especially true of brands of masks the CDC or a private lab hasn't tested and published findings about, which is the case here.
Steadman went down a Google hole, cross-referencing images, technical data, model numbers and more. All of CSL's KN95s were labeled as not for medical use.
One type of mask connected back to a Chinese diaper company.
Another shipment, apparently from Amazon, came in packages of four (sterile masks typically come individually wrapped). Plus, the "CE" markings claiming they'd passed muster with European regulators were skewed and placed in different spots mask to mask, as if applied by hand with an ink stamp rather than precise machinery.
The third type, the KN95 Steadman was handed that stressful June night, links to a company registered with the FDA as ZK-Best, which sells masks approved by Chinese regulators for working around dust or filtering polluted air. The Chinese manufacturer did not respond to email requests for comment.
But CSL included a technical data sheet for these masks in its submission to OSHA that raises questions. The document purports to show that SGS, a global firm that deploys inspectors to factories to test goods for far-flung buyers, had found the ZK-Best respirator highly effective.
The document looked odd. The date format was month, day, year: "July 1st, 2015." That's an American convention I hadn't seen on other SGS documents. The inspection also appeared to be for a completely different mask model, a so-called PM2.5 mask designed for industrial use.
I reached out to experts who had imported and sold legitimate masks. I also reached out to SGS.
Richie Hecker, director of the medical supply company Traction and Scale, sold PPE to New York City and others. With his help, ProPublica asked a researcher in China to investigate. When the results came back, Hecker said he wouldn't buy these masks because SGS said the report provided to OSHA was fake, a "cut and paste job."
"This is not an original SGS document," SGS also wrote to me. "This document is thus of no value whatsoever and we advise you not to rely on it for any purpose."
Hecker said phony documents are common fare in the PPE market and "the KNs are the dirtiest item on the market." That's why reliable chain-of-custody documents connecting the mask in Steadman's hand to a specific factory are crucial.
When I asked CSL about the fake SGS document, a spokesperson said that the company would investigate and that it takes its responsibility to provide accurate information to federal regulators with "utmost seriousness."
On Sept. 2, just two days after I first asked CSL about the ZK-Best masks, its ZKG 9501 KN95 mask appeared on the FDA's list as allowed under the emergency use authorization. This wasn't the case earlier in my research or during the months Steadman refreshed and refreshed the same website and sent questions to several government agencies.
An FDA official told me that brand of mask was authorized based on testing and approvals from the FDA's European Union counterpart, though the masks CSL distributed and their packaging lack the CE mark. NIOSH has seen multiple instances of counterfeit masks sold using the branding of manufacturers on the list. U.S. regulators have not tested the ZK-Best masks themselves, but anyone worried about masks at their workplace is encouraged to send them to NIOSH for testing, officials said.
A few days later, on Sept. 13, CSL provided new documents it said proved the masks were legitimate, including a new testing document and a letter apparently from a ZK-Best manager named "Chensu," who said the masks had been approved by SGS after all. There was a mixup with the mask models, the letter said, but the masks were good.
I tried to authenticate those documents with the factory but didn't hear back.
I asked a CSL spokesperson for proof the documents came from the factory, perhaps an email thread showing a chain of custody. The company declined but said, "We assure you that we did not alter any of the documentation."
I shared all of this with Steadman, who remains skeptical.
"That Put Me at Risk"
Workers in McKeesport remain on edge because of the masks but also CSL policies they say are conflicting and dangerous.
CSL says workers are safe because the centers don't treat patients who are currently sick with COVID-19.
Donors receive a blood pressure, temperature and pulse check, said Farina, the company spokesman, and COVID-19 survivors "must provide a doctor's note confirming their diagnosis and confirmation that they have recovered from COVID-19."
Yet late last month, two workers were potentially exposed to a donor who later tested positive, according to internal emails and interviews with CSL employees. That donor wasn't properly wearing her mask, employees told me.
Samantha Kelly, 30, was told she had contact with this person. She worked the reception desk and spent several minutes pricking the fingers and taking the blood pressure of walk-in donors. She said the company refused to tell her when that contact occurred, making it impossible to retrace her steps and warn those close to her.
Kelly is the primary caregiver for her mother, who has diabetes and a chronic inflammatory lung disease.
"That put me at risk," she told me. "That put my family at risk, everyone we had come in contact with."
She's technically still a CSL employee, on unpaid leave since Aug. 20, but she said she's not going back.
A CSL spokesperson said the company follows CDC and local guidelines on contact tracing but said patient privacy laws limit what they can tell employees.
Company records show CSL stopped doing temperature readings at the door in June.
CSL employees say the checks detailed by CSL's spokesman happen long after patients enter the centers, sometimes after they've signed in, talked with staff and sat in a waiting room before screening.
Ultimately, CSL staff don't have much but donors' word that they're not sick, employees say and records show.
This month, a woman who said she'd recovered from COVID-19 came into the McKeesport office to sell her plasma, according to CSL staff. Well after she arrived, a staffer found she was running a fever. She was sent home. Employees are still rattled.
CSL employees told me their need for good PPE was heightened by a recent policy change. Employees were told they cannot ask donors who refuse to wear masks to leave, according to corporate instructions sent out in late June.
Responding to Steadman's persistence, OSHA reopened its investigation. That inquiry is ongoing, and the agency won't say more until it's complete, a spokeswoman said in an email.
On Sept. 1, the company launched a COVID-19 antibody testing program in about 30 cities to help identify more potential donors who have recovered from the disease. That same day, the National Institutes of Health said there's no evidence to support convalescent plasma therapy as a standard treatment for COVID-19.
In the end, I found only some answers for Steadman, who remains on leave from CSL. She said she and her co-workers could have avoided heartache if the company had simply addressed her questions and found FDA-authorized masks back in May.
"Why would the company let me flail over here and let me freak out and contact several different agencies if everything is just fine?" she said. "Nothing that you've just told me convinces me that anybody is sure those masks would protect me from COVID — at all."
On a recent warm afternoon, as we talked in front of her parent's long log cabin home, Steadman was wearing scrubs even though she hadn't been to work in weeks. I asked why.