According to the Colorado chapter of Type 1 International, an insulin access advocacy group, only 3% of patients with Type 1 diabetes under 65 could benefit from the cap.
This article was published on Monday, October 5, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
DENVER — D.j. Mattern had her Type 1 diabetes under control until COVID's economic upheaval cost her husband his hotel maintenance job and their health coverage. The 42-year-old Denver woman suddenly faced insulin's exorbitant list price — anywhere from $125 to $450 per vial — just as their household income shrank.
She scrounged extra insulin from friends, and her doctor gave her a couple of samples. But as she rationed her supplies, her blood sugar rose so high her glucose monitor couldn't even register a number. In June, she was hospitalized.
"My blood was too acidic. My system was shutting down. My digestive tract was paralyzed," Mattern said, after three weeks in the hospital. "I was almost near death."
So she turned to a growing underground network of people with diabetes who share extra insulin when they have it, free of charge. It wasn't supposed to be this way, many thought, after Colorado last year was the first of 12 states to implement a cap on the copayments that some insurers can charge consumers for insulin. But as the COVID pandemic has caused people to lose jobs and health insurance, demand for insulin sharing has skyrocketed. Many patients who once had good insurance are now realizing the $100 cap is only a partial solution, applying just to state-regulated health plans.
Colorado's cap does nothing for the majority of people with employer-sponsored plans or those without insurance coverage. According to the state chapter of Type 1 International, an insulin access advocacy group, only 3% of patients with Type 1 diabetes under 65 could benefit from the cap.
Such laws, often backed by pharmaceutical companies, give the impression that things are improving, said Colorado chapter leader Martha Bierut. "But the reality is, we have a much longer road ahead of us."
The struggle to afford insulin has forced many people into that underground network. Through social media and word-of-mouth, those in need of insulin connect with counterparts who have a supply to spare. Insurers typically allow patients a set amount of insulin per month, but patients use varying amounts to control their blood sugar levels depending on factors such as their diet and activity that day.
Though it's illegal to share a prescription medication, those involved say they simply don't care: They're out to save lives. They bristle at the suggestion that the exchanges resemble back-alley drug deals. The supplies are given freely, and no money changes hands.
For those who can't afford their insulin, they have little choice. It's a your-money-or-your-life scenario for which the American free-market health care system seems to have no answer.
"I can choose not to buy the iPhone or a new car or to have avocado toast for breakfast," said Jill Weinstein, who lives in Denver and has Type 1 diabetes. "I can't choose not to buy the insulin, because I will die."
Exacerbated by the Pandemic
Surveys conducted before the pandemic showed that 1 in 4 people with either Type 1 or Type 2 diabetes had rationed insulin because of the cost. For many Blacks, Hispanics and Native Americans, the pinch was especially bad. These populations are more likely to have diabetes and also more likely to face economic disparities that make insulin unaffordable.
Then COVID-19 arrived, with economic stress and the virus itself hitting people in those groups the hardest.
This year, the American Diabetes Association reported a surge in calls to its crisis hotline regarding insulin access problems. In June, the group found, 18% of people with diabetes were unemployed, compared with 12% of the general public. Many are wrestling with the tough choices of whether to pay for food, rent, utilities or insulin.
Rep. Dylan Roberts, a Democrat who sponsored Colorado's copay cap bill, said legislators knew the measure was only the first step in addressing high insulin costs. The law also tasked the state's attorney general to produce a report, due Nov. 1, on insulin affordability and solutions.
"We went as far as we could," Roberts said. "While I feel Colorado has been a leader on this, we need to do a whole lot more both at the state and national level."
According to the American Diabetes Association, 36 other states have introduced insulin copay cap legislation, but the pandemic stalled progress on most of those bills.
Insulin prices are high in the U.S. because few limits exist for what pharmaceutical manufacturers can charge. Three large drugmakers dominate the insulin market and have raised prices in near lockstep. A vial that 20 years ago cost $25 to $30 now can run 10 to 15 times that much. And people with diabetes can need as many as four or five vials per month.
"It all boils down to cost," said Gail deVore, who lives in Denver and has Type 1 diabetes. "We're the only developed nation that charges what we charge."
Before the COVID crisis triggered border closures, patients often crossed into Mexico or Canada to buy insulin at a fraction of the U.S. price. President Donald Trump has taken steps to lower drug prices, including allowing for the importation of insulin in some cases from Canada, but that plan will take months to implement.
The Kindness of Strangers
DeVore posts on social media three or four times a year asking if anybody needs supplies. While she's always encountered demand, her last tweet in August garnered 12 responses within 24 hours.
"I can feel the anxiety," deVore said. "It's unbelievable."
She recalled helping one young man who had moved to Colorado for a new job but whose health insurance didn't kick in for 90 days. She used a map to choose a random intersection halfway between them. When deVore arrived on the dusty rural road after dark, his car was already there. She handed him a vial of insulin and testing supplies. He thanked her profusely, almost in tears, she said, and they parted ways.
"The desperation was obvious on his face," she said.
It's unclear just how widespread such sharing of insulin has become. In 2019, Michelle Litchman, a researcher at the University of Utah's College of Nursing, surveyed 159 patients with diabetes, finding that 56% had donated insulin.
"People with diabetes are sometimes labeled as noncompliant, but many people don't have access to what they need," she said. "Here are people who are genuinely trying to find a way to take care of themselves."
If insulin affordability doesn't improve, Litchman suggested in a journal article, health care providers may have to train patients on how tosafely engage in underground exchanges.
The hashtag #Insulin4all has become a common way of amplifying calls for help. People sometimes post pictures of the supplies they have to share, while others insert numbers or asterisks within words to avoid social media companies removing their posts.
Although drug manufacturers offer limited assistance programs, they often have lengthy application processes. So they typically don't help the person who accidentally drops her last glass vial on a tile floor and finds herself out of insulin for the rest of the month. Emergency rooms will treat patients in crisis and have been known to give them an extra vial or two to take home. But each crisis takes a toll on their long-term health.
That's why members of the diabetes community continue to look out for one another. Laura Marston, a lawyer with Type 1 diabetes who helped to expose insulin pricing practices by Big Pharma, said two of the people she first helped secure insulin, both women in their 40s, are in failing health, the result of a lifetime of challenges controlling their disease.
"The last I heard, one is in end-stage renal failure and the other has already had a partial limb amputation," Marston said. "The effects of this, what we see, you can't turn your back on it."
The underground sharing is how Mattern secured her insulin before recently qualifying for Medicaid. When someone on a neighborhood Facebook group asked if anybody needed anything in the midst of the pandemic, she replied with one word: insulin. Soon, an Uber driver arrived with a couple of insulin pens and replacement sensors for her glucose monitor.
"I knew it wasn't altogether legal," Mattern said. "But I knew that if I didn't get it, I wouldn't be alive."
In general, antigen tests can miss up to half the cases that are detected by polymerase chain reaction tests, depending on the population of patients tested, he said.
This article was published on Friday, October 2, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
President Donald Trump’s COVID-19 diagnosis is raising fresh questions about the White House’s strategy for testing and containing the virus for a president whose cavalier attitude about the coronavirus has persisted since it landed on American shores.
The president has said others are tested before getting close to him, appearing to hold it as an iron shield of safety. He has largely eschewed mask-wearing and social distancing in meetings, travel and public events, while holding rallies for thousands of often maskless supporters.
The Trump administration has increasingly pinned its coronavirus testing strategy for the nation on antigen tests, which do not need a traditional lab for processing and quickly return results to patients. But the results are less accurate than those of the slower PCR tests.
Testing “isn’t a ‘get out of jail free card,’” said Dr. Alan Wells, medical director of clinical labs at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center and creator of its test for the novel coronavirus. In general, antigen tests can miss up to half the cases that are detected by polymerase chain reaction tests, depending on the population of patients tested, he said.
The White House said the president’s diagnosis was confirmed with a PCR test but declined to say which test delivered his initial result. The White House has been using a new antigen test from Abbott Laboratories to screen its staff for COVID-19, according to two administration officials.
The test, known as BinaxNOW, received an emergency use authorization from the Food and Drug Administration in August. It produces results in 15 minutes. Yet little is independently known about how effective it is. According to the company, the test is 97% accurate in detecting positives and 98.5% accurate in identifying those without disease. Abbott’s stated performance of its antigen test was based on examining people within seven days of COVID symptoms appearing.
The president and first lady have both had symptoms, according to White House chief of staff Mark Meadows and the first lady’s Twitter account. The president was admitted to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center on Friday evening “out of an abundance of caution,” White House press secretary Kayleigh McEnany said in a statement.
Vice President Mike Pence is also tested daily for the virus and tested negative, spokesperson Devin O’Malley said Friday, but he did not respond to a follow-up question about which test was used.
Trump heavily promoted another Abbott rapid testing device, the ID NOW, earlier this year. But that test relies on different technology than the newer Abbott antigen test.
“I have not seen any independent evaluation of the Binax assay in the literature or in the blogs,” Wells said. “It is an unknown.”
The Department of Health and Human Services announced in August that it had signed a $760 million contract with Abbott for 150 million BinaxNOW antigen tests, which are now being distributed to nursing homes and historically black colleges and universities, as well as to governors to help inform decisions about opening and closing schools. The Big Ten football conference has also pinned playing hopes on the deployment of antigen tests following Trump’s political pressure.
However, even senior federal officials concede that a test alone isn’t likely to stop the spread of a virus that has sickened more than 7 million Americans.
“Testing does not substitute for avoiding crowded indoor spaces, washing hands, or wearing a mask when you can’t physically distance; further, a negative test today does not mean that you won’t be positive tomorrow,” Adm. Brett Giroir, the senior HHS official helming the administration’s testing effort, said in a statement at the time.
Trump could be part of a “super-spreading event,” said Dr. Michael Osterholm, director of the Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy at the University of Minnesota.
Given the timing of Trump’s positive test — which he announced on Twitter early Friday — his infection “likely happened five or more days ago,” Osterholm said. “If so, then he was widely infectious as early as Tuesday,” the day of the first presidential debate in Cleveland.
At least seven people who attended a Rose Garden announcement last Saturday, when Trump announced his nomination of Judge Amy Coney Barrett to the Supreme Court, have since tested positive for the coronavirus. They include Trump’s former adviser Kellyanne Conway, Republican Sens. Mike Lee and Thom Tillis, and the president of the University of Notre Dame, the Rev. John Jenkins.
Experts say it’s too soon to say whether Trump was infected in a super-spreader event. “The president and his wife have had many exposures to many people in enclosed venues without protection,” so they could have been infected at any number of places, said Dr. William Schaffner, an infectious disease specialist at the Vanderbilt University School of Medicine.
Although Democratic presidential candidate and former Vice President Joe Biden tested negative for the virus with a PCR test Friday, experts note that false-negative results are common in the first few days after infection. Test results over the next several days will yield more useful information.
It can take more than a week for the virus to reproduce enough to be detected, Wells said: “You are probably not detectable for three, five, seven, even 10 days after you’re exposed.”
In Minnesota, where Trump held an outdoor campaign rally in Duluth with hundreds of attendees Wednesday, health officials warned that a 14-day quarantine is necessary, regardless of test results.
“Anyone who was a direct contact of President Trump or known COVID-19 cases needs to quarantine and should get tested,” the Minnesota Department of Health said.
Ongoing lapses in test result reporting could hamper efforts to track and isolate sick people. As of Sept. 10, 21 states and the District of Columbia were not reporting all antigen test results, according to a KHN investigation, a lapse in reporting that officials say leaves them blind to disease spread. Since then, public health departments in Arizona, North Carolina and South Dakota all have announced plans to add antigen testing to their case reporting.
Requests for comment to the D.C. Department of Health were referred to Mayor Muriel Bowser’s office, which did not respond. District health officials told KHN in early September that the White House does not report antigen test results to them — a potential violation of federal law under the CARES Act, which says any institution performing tests to diagnose COVID-19 must report all results to local or state public health departments.
Dr. Amesh Adalja, a senior scholar at the Johns Hopkins University Center for Health Security, said it’s not surprising that Trump tested positive, given that so many of his close associates — including his national security adviser and Secret Service officers — have also been infected by the virus.
“When you look at the number of social contacts and travel schedules, it’s not surprising,” Adalja said.
In August, Robert Pettigrew was working a series of odd jobs. While washing the windows of a cellphone store he saw a sign, one that he believes the “good Lord” placed there for him.
“Facing eviction?” the sign read. “You could be eligible for up to $3,000 in rent assistance. Apply today.”
It seemed a hopeful omen after a series of financial and health blows. In March, Pettigrew, 52, learned he has an invasive mass on his lung that restricts his breathing. His doctor told him his condition puts him at high risk of developing deadly complications from COVID-19 and advised him to stop working as a night auditor at a Motel 6, where he manned the front desk. Reluctantly, he had to leave that job and start piecing together other work.
With pay coming in less steadily, Pettigrew and his wife, Stephanie, fell behind on the rent. Eventually, they were many months late, and the couple’s landlord filed to evict them.
Then Pettigrew saw the rental assistance sign.
“There were nights I would lay in bed and my wife would be asleep, and all I could do was say, ‘God, you need to help me. We need you,'” Pettigrew said. “And here he came. He showed himself to us.”
As many as 40 million Americans faced a looming eviction risk in August, according to a report authored by 10 national housing and eviction experts. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention cited that estimate in early September when it ordered an unprecedented, nationwide eviction moratorium through the end of 2020.
That move — a moratorium from the country’s top public health agency — spotlights a message experts have preached for years without prompting much policy action: Housing stability and health are intertwined.
The CDC is now citing stable housing as a vital tool to control the coronavirus, which has killed more than 200,000 Americans. Home is where people isolate themselves to avoid transmitting the virus or becoming infected. When local governments issue stay-at-home orders in the name of public health, they presume that residents have a home. For people who have the virus, home is often where they recover from COVID-19’s fever, chills and dry cough — in lieu of, or after, a hospital stay.
But the moratorium is not automatic. Renters have to submit a declaration form to their landlord, agreeing to a series of statements under threat of perjury, including “my housing provider may require payment in full for all payments not made prior to and during the temporary halt, and failure to pay may make me subject to eviction pursuant to state and local laws.”
Princeton University is tracking eviction filings in 17 U.S. cities during the pandemic. As of Sept. 19, landlords in those cities have filed for more than 50,000 evictions since March 15. The tally includes about 11,900 in Houston, 10,900 in Phoenix and 4,100 in Milwaukee.
It’s an incomplete snapshot that excludes some major American cities such as Indianapolis, where local housing advocates said court cases are difficult to track, but landlords have sought to evict thousands of renters.
Children raised in unstable housing are more prone to hospitalization than those with stable housing. Homelessness is associated with delayed childhood development, and mothers in families that lose homes to eviction show higher rates of depression and other health challenges.
Mountingresearch illustrates that even the threat of eviction can exact a physical and mental toll from tenants.
Nicole MacMillan, 38, lost her job managing vacation rentals in Fort Myers, Florida, in March when the pandemic shut down businesses. Later, she also lost the apartment where she had been living with her two children.
“I actually contacted a doctor, because I thought, mentally, I can’t handle this anymore,” MacMillan said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do or where I’m going to go. And maybe some medication can help me for a little bit.”
But the doctor she reached out to wasn’t accepting new patients.
With few options, MacMillan moved north to live with her grandparents in Grayslake, Illinois. Her children are staying with their fathers while she gets back on her feet. She recently started driving for Uber Eats in the Chicagoland area.
“I need a home for my kids again,” MacMillan said, fighting back tears. The pandemic “has ripped my whole life apart.”
Searching for Assistance to Stay at Home
That store window sign? It directed Pettigrew to Community Advocates, a Milwaukee nonprofit that received $7 million in federal pandemic stimulus funds to help administer a local rental aid program. More than 3,800 applications for assistance have flooded the agency, said Deborah Heffner, its housing strategy director, while tens of thousands more applications have flowed to a separate agency administering the state’s rental relief program in Milwaukee.
Persistence helped the Pettigrews break through the backlog.
“I blew their phone up,” said Stephanie Pettigrew, with a smile.
She qualifies for federal Social Security Disability Insurance, which sends her $400 to $900 in monthly assistance. That income has become increasingly vital since March when Robert left his motel job.
He has since pursued a host of odd jobs to keep food on the table — such as the window-washing he was doing when he saw the rental assistance sign — work where he can limit his exposure to the virus. He brings home $40 on a good day, he said, $10 on a bad one. Before they qualified for rent assistance, February had been the last time the Pettigrews could fully pay their $600 monthly rent bill.
Just as their finances tightened and their housing situation became less stable, the couple welcomed more family members. Heavenly, Robert’s adult daughter, arrived in May from St. Louis after the child care center where she worked shut down because of concerns over the coronavirus. She brought along her 3-year-old son.
Through its order, the CDC hopes to curtail evictions, which can add family members and friends to already stressed households. The federal order notes that “household contacts are estimated to be 6 times more likely to become infected by [a person with] COVID-19 than other close contacts.”
“That’s where that couch surfing issue comes up — people going from place to place every few nights, not trying to burden anybody in particular, but possibly at risk of spreading around the risk of coronavirus,” said Andrew Bradley of Prosperity Indiana, a nonprofit focusing on community development.
The Pettigrews’ Milwaukee apartment — a kitchen, a front room, two bedrooms and one bathroom — is tight for the three generations now sharing it.
“But it’s our home,” Robert said. “We’ve got a roof over our head. I can’t complain.”
Housing Loss Hits Black and Latino Communities
A U.S. Census Bureau survey conducted before the federal eviction moratorium was announced found that 5.5 million of American adults feared they were either somewhat or very likely to face eviction or foreclosure in the next two months.
State and local governments nationwide are offering a patchwork of help for those people.
In Massachusetts, the governor extended the state’s pause on evictions and foreclosures until Oct. 17. Landlords are challenging that move both in state and federal court, but both courts have let the ban stand while the lawsuits proceed.
“Access to stable housing is a crucial component of containing COVID-19 for every citizen of Massachusetts,” Judge Paul Wilson wrote in a state court ruling. “The balance of harms and the public interest favor upholding the law to protect the public health and economic well-being of tenants and the public in general during this health and economic emergency.”
The cases from Massachusetts may offer a glimpse of how federal challenges to the CDC order could play out.
By contrast, in Wisconsin, Gov. Tony Evers was one of the first governors to lift a state moratorium on evictions during the pandemic — thereby enabling about 8,000 eviction filings from late May to early September, according to a search of an online database of Wisconsin circuit courts.
Milwaukee, Wisconsin’s most populous city, has seen nearly half of those filings, which have largely hit the city’s Black-majority neighborhoods, according to an Eviction Lab analysis.
In other states, housing advocates note similar disparities.
“Poor neighborhoods, neighborhoods of color, have higher rates of asthma and blood pressure — which, of course, are all health issues that the COVID pandemic is then being impacted by,” said Amy Nelson, executive director of the Fair Housing Center of Central Indiana.
“This deadly virus is killing people disproportionately in Black and brown communities at alarming rates,” said Dee Ross, founder of the Indianapolis Tenants Rights Union. “And disproportionately, Black and brown people are the ones being evicted at the highest rate in Indiana.”
Across the country, officials at various levels of government have set aside millions in federal pandemic aid for housing assistance for struggling renters and homeowners. That includes $240 million earmarked in Florida, between state and county governments, $100 million in Los Angeles County and $18 million in Mississippi.
In Wisconsin, residents report that a range of barriers — from application backlogs to onerous paperwork requirements — have limited their access to aid.
In Indiana, more than 36,000 people applied for that state’s $40 million rental assistance program before the application deadline. Marion County, home to Indianapolis, had a separate $25 million program, but it cut off applications after just three days because of overwhelming demand. About 25,000 people sat on the county’s waiting list in late August.
Of that massive need, Bradley, who works in economic development in Indiana, said: “We’re not confident that the people who need the help most even know about the program — that there’s been enough proactive outreach to get to the households that are most impacted.”
After Milwaukeean Robert Pettigrew saw that sign in the store window and reached out to the nonprofit Community Advocates, the group covered more than $4,700 of the Pettigrews’ rental payments, late charges, utility bills and court fees. The nonprofit also referred the couple to a pro-bono lawyer, who helped seal their eviction case — that means it can’t hurt the Pettigrews’ ability to rent in the future, and ensures the family will have housing at least through September. The CDC moratorium has added to that security.
The federal eviction moratorium, if it withstands legal challenges from housing industry groups, “buys critical time” for renters to find assistance through the year’s end, said Emily Benfer, founding director of the Wake Forest Law Health Justice Clinic.
“It’s protecting 30 to 40 million adults and children from eviction and the downward spiral that it causes in long-term, poor health outcomes,” she said.
Doctor: Evictions Akin to ‘Toxic Exposure’
Megan Sandel, a pediatrician at Boston Medical Center, said at least a third of the 14,000 families with children that seek treatment at her medical center have fallen behind on their rent, a figure mirrored in national reports.
Hospital officials worry that evictions during the pandemic will trigger a surge of homeless patients — and patients who lack homes are more challenging and expensive to treat. One study from 2016 found that stable housing reduced Medicaid spending by 12% — and not because members stopped going to the doctor. Primary care use increased 20%, while more expensive emergency room visits dropped by 18%.
A year ago, Boston Medical Center and two area hospitals collaborated to invest $3 million in emergency housing assistance as community organizing focused on affordable housing policies and development. Now the hospitals are looking for additional emergency funds, trying to boost legal resources to prevent evictions and work more closely with public housing authorities and state rental assistance programs.
“We are a safety-net hospital. We don’t have unlimited resources,” Sandel said. “But being able to avert an eviction is like avoiding a toxic exposure.”
Sandel said the real remedy for avoiding an eviction crisis is to offer Americans substantially more emergency rental assistance, along the lines of the $100 billion included in a package proposed by House Democrats in May and dubbed the Heroes Act. Boston Medical Center is among the 26 health care associations and systems that signed a letter urging congressional leaders to agree on rental and homeless assistance as well as a national moratorium on evictions for the entire pandemic.
“Without action from Congress, we are going to see a tsunami of evictions,” the letter stated, “and its fallout will directly impact the health care system and harm the health of families and individuals for years to come.”
Groups representing landlords urge passage of rental assistance, too, although some oppose the CDC order. They point out that property owners must pay bills as well and may lose apartments where renters can’t or won’t pay.
In Milwaukee, Community Advocates is helping the Pettigrews look for a more affordable apartment. Robert Pettigrew continues attending doctors’ appointments for his lungs, searching for safe work. He looks to the future with a sense of resolve — and a request that no one pity his family.
“Life just kicks you in the butt sometimes,” he said. “But I’m the type of person — I’m gonna kick life’s ass back.”
Scientists are warning of a larger wave of infection this winter. They agree the simplest, easiest way to fight that surge is to get most people to wear masks most of the time.
This article was published on Friday, October 2, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Nils Hase, a retiree who lives in Tarpon Springs, Florida, is wearing a mask and loading his Home Depot haul into his car on a recent weekday afternoon. In the store, because Home Depot insists customers and staff across the country wear masks, most faces were covered.
But out here in the parking lot, in a state with a serious infection rate but no mask mandate, plenty of those masks hang down around people’s chins.
“It bothers me. They are being defiant,” Hase said. “And most of the people I see that walk in without a mask are just looking for a fight. They are asking you to ‘Just ask me. Just give me a reason to yell at you.’ I just stay away from them and keep on with my own life.”
Six and a half months after President Donald Trump declared the coronavirus emergency, COVID-19 has killed more than 207,000 Americans and infected 7.3 million, now including Trump himself and the first lady.
Scientists are warning of a larger wave of infection this winter. They agree the simplest, easiest way to fight that surge is to get most people to wear masks most of the time.
Yet the political fight over face coverings rages. It plays out on city streets, in suburban grocery stores, in rural sheriff’s offices and at the highest echelons of government — all the way to the presidential debate stage this week in Cleveland. There, most of Trump’s contingent refused to wear required masks, and one of them tested positive soon afterward. Only time will tell if they spread the infection, but their behavior is mirrored across the nation.
Hefty Price in Iowa
In April, Iowa health officials cut an agreement with Iowa University to do modeling on the impact of coronavirus. Among the data are estimates of future death rates and the projection that more than a thousand Iowans could be saved by adopting a universal mask policy.
Later that month, the researchers warned Republican Gov. Kim Reynolds not to ease restrictions aimed at curtailing the virus, saying a spike would result later in the year. They also recommended a strong policy on facial coverings, producing a report that said face shields would dramatically lower the virus’s toll.
Reynolds took none of that advice. She started easing restrictions in late April. She argued it was more important to reopen the state’s economy while encouraging people to be responsible and wear masks than to throw down a mandate she called unenforceable.
“I think the goal is to strongly encourage and recommend that people wear them,” she said in late August. “I believe that people are.”
Yet at that moment, Iowa was proving the university’s predictions true, suffering the highest infection rate in the nation. In late September, the state was one of only seven that remained in the “red zone,” averaging more than 890 new infections a day.
The governor’s intransigence on masks highlights a troubling problem. At a time when experts believe the nation needs to unite around a strategy to curb a potentially catastrophic winter, the cheapest, best option — masks — have become increasingly politicized. Even Republicans like Reynolds, who agree masks work, refuse to take the advice of their experts. They oppose mandates and favor an educational approach that many people actively resist.
Dissent Within the Trump Administration
The trouble starts at the top. The Trump administration’s leading medical advisers have testified repeatedly that masks were the country’s best tool to blunt a second wave that could be significantly deadlier than the initial spike.
Dr. Robert Redfield, director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, went as far to say face coverings were a more certain bet than a vaccine if everyone would wear them.
“If we did it for six, eight, 10, 12 weeks, we’d bring this pandemic under control,” Redfield said during a Sept. 16 hearing. “They are our best defense.”
Trump contradicted him before the day was done, and just a few days earlier, as the president and his coterie did in Cleveland, Trump modeled exactly the opposite behavior. At a campaign rally of thousands in Nevada, he cheered on the mostly maskless crowd. The next day, he held a massive mask-optional indoor rally at a warehouse in Henderson, Nevada, defying state restrictions. He advised the owner (who was later fined $3,000) that he’d protect the man if the state went after him.
“I’ll be with you all the way. Don’t worry about a thing,” Trump said.
But Trump’s actions and statements are worrisome for scientists and public health experts. They have watched in horror and frustration as the president’s dismissive attitude toward masks and COVID-19 itself has gone hand in hand with growing politicization of the public health response.
Meanwhile, the White House Coronavirus Task Force, led by Vice President Mike Pence, issued a “state report” on Montana on Sept. 20 that included the suggestion that the state “consider fines for violations of face mask mandates in high transmission areas.” At a press conference, Gov. Steve Bullock, a Democrat, said fining people would not be “the Montana way.” The state is, however, one of 34 with a mask mandate in place.
Indeed, the single-strongest predictor of whether or not a state will mandate strong mask policies bears little relationship to a state’s disease problem, according to a recent study by a team at the University of Washington.
After analyzing comprehensive data on mask policies, researchers led by Chris Adolph, a professor of political science and statistics, found that having a Republican governor would predict a 30-day delay in recommending mask policies. In a state that is also ideologically conservative, the delay would be closer to 40 days. A state’s death rate or infection rate had a much weaker influence.
“Because mask mandates are far less costly than business closures or stay-at-home orders, when we started to monitor these policies in April, we hoped their adoption would be universal,” Adolph said. “Instead, we found the same pattern: Republican governors resisted mandating masks even when public health conditions called for them.”
Adolph’s research suggests Trump is at least amplifying disdain for masks and, in fact, the phenomenon has been playing out across the country, most strikingly among some of Trump’s most ardent supporters — law enforcement and extremely conservative politicians.
Anti-Mask Sheriffs
In Washington state, Florida and even Democratic California, sheriffs made headlines by taking actions in opposition to local masking guidelines.
In Washington’s Snohomish County, where the first case of COVID-19 was discovered in the United States, Sheriff Adam Fortney declared in an April Facebook post: “The impacts of COVID 19 no longer warrant the suspension of our constitutional rights.”
Democratic Gov. Jay Inslee ordered people to wear masks in public in late June, just as a summer-long rise of infections began. Lewis County Sheriff Rob Snaza responded by telling a cheering crowd outside a church, “Don’t be a sheep.” Klickitat County Sheriff Bob Songer on the radio called Inslee “an idiot” over the order.
In Florida, anti-mask resistance has been especially fierce. Again, sheriffs offered the most startling opposition. One, Marion County Sheriff Billy Woods, banned masks for his deputies and visitors to the sheriff’s department offices, though he later relented on visitors.
Even in solid-blue Los Angeles County, the sheriff’s office was reprimanded by the county inspector general because deputies refused to wear masks, in violation of public health orders.
Surprisingly, officials there who support masks were disinclined to push tough enforcement.
“One of the things in all of this is we’re not going to enforce or fine our way out of this,” L.A.’s top public health official, Dr. Muntu Davis, told reporters recently.
Researchers disagree with Davis and Reynolds, not because education doesn’t work, but because it takes a long, sustained effort.
“Developing and deploying health education programs takes time, so in emergencies where rapid compliance is essential for reducing the spread of a novel pathogen, mandates are a critical element,” said Adolph.
Tickets in Tennessee
That’s the path officials took in Nashville, Tennessee, though initially officers opted for a more lenient approach than the mayor wanted. They had to be forced to write tickets with a potential fine of $50. The police still mostly have been giving warnings — thousands on any given weekend — but they’ve also written dozens of tickets and made some arrests.
City officials credit the crackdown with curbing COVID-19, even as it ran rampant in rural Tennessee counties where there are no mask mandates. In late September, Nashville’s Davidson County had 13.5 cases per 100,000 people, while more than three dozen less populous counties had “red zone” infection rates, with more than 25 cases per 100,000 people.
Amid the conflicting messages, including where enforcement has worked, not everyone is convinced that covering your nose and mouth is something that should rise to the level of police.
“I think they have better things to do than force anybody to wear a mask,” said Jennifer Johnson, an X-ray tech in downtown Nashville. “I think it should be at your own risk, but that’s just my opinion.”
Lawsuits Plus Weekly Protests in Florida
Plenty of conservative-leaning citizens and lawmakers agree with her, to the point of suing to block mandates.
In Hillsborough County, Florida, home to Tampa, county commissioners must vote each week to renew a state of emergency that requires masks to be worn in indoor public places.
Jason Kimball, a regular speaker at those meetings opposing the order, grew so angry he started a GoFundMe campaign for a lawsuit. He hit his $5,000 goal in 24 hours.
“You can only do so much as a commission legally, without violating the state constitution and the United States Constitution,” Kimball said at a recent meeting.
Rep. Anthony Sabatini, a state lawmaker who has filed 15 similar lawsuits on behalf of others all over the state, took the case. He claims mask ordinances are an overreach by government and a violation of Florida’s privacy clause.
“The government has never done this before,” Sabatini said. “It’s never told people that they have to wear masks everywhere they go all day long, and that’s basically what it’s come to.”
A judge dismissed Sabatini’s case in Hillsborough County and several of his other lawsuits have been denied.
Like Kimball and many other mask opponents, Sabatini insists masks don’t work, saying anyone can Google it to find out.
Scientists beg to differ, and are distressed political ideology has trumped real data and made it impossible for science to dictate the best responses.
“That’s certainly been a source of frustration for those of us who work in public health,” said Joe Cavanaugh, who runs the Department of Biostatistics at the University of Iowa’s College of Public Health and helped build the modeling distributed to Gov. Reynolds.
Watching Other Countries Succeed
Dr. Ali Mokdad, a former outbreak scientist at the CDC who works for the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation at the University of Washington’s School of Medicine, finds it especially painful to watch other countries deal with the pandemic better than the United States.
He traveled the globe to stop outbreaks, and now other countries are using the methods he and his former colleagues at the CDC taught them.
“Why aren’t people wearing a mask? For the first time in our history, of humankind, we have a measure that is really very cheap,” he said. “You can make it at home yourself from something old you have. It saves lives. It saves the economy.”
It is doubly frustrating — and alarming — because while mask adoption had been rising over the summer, it’s recently begun to slip. The shift caused IHME to adjust upward its model of how many people would get infected and die by Jan. 1 in the United States.
“This change in the last week is due mainly to the decline in masks and the increase in mobility,” Mokdad said.
The death rate estimate has since moderated — projected this week at 372,000.
One place where mask use has declined is Iowa, where Mokdad said only 28% of people say in surveys they are always likely to wear a mask when they go out.
Scientists at the University of Iowa had been using data similar to what IHME uses for its coronavirus models. The state won’t let the university make its modeling public, but when some of its data was online, the projection was that Iowa would see more than 1,000 deaths by the end of August if no additional safety steps were taken. As of Tuesday, the state’s official toll was 1,328.
By IHME’s most recent similar estimates, more than 3,400 Iowans will die by Jan. 1. With a universal mask requirement, some 1,600 could be saved. Nationally, nearly 115,000 lives could be spared.
Winter Is Coming
Cavanaugh would welcome even a toothless mandate to spare some of those lives. “Just sending that message at the state level is, I think, an important step in emphasizing the importance of it,” said the University of Iowa researcher.
Sixteen states still do not have a mandate, all of them led by Republicans.
The especially frightening element to the anti-mask movement is that it can only worsen what scientists already warn is going to be a bad winter.
When it’s cold, the virus can survive longer on surfaces, and people are stuck indoors where it can become more concentrated in the aerosolized droplets people exhale.
“We’ve seen it in our data. We’ve seen it in other countries,” Mokdad said. “It’s very strong, and it’s going to happen in the U.S., unfortunately.”
Back in Florida, Nils Hase will keep wearing his mask.
“I’ve always believed in the science behind it,” Hase said. “It’s a virus and we need to be aware of what’s going on. People who don’t, they’re just idiots.”
This story is from a reporting partnership that includes Health News Florida, KPCC, Nashville Public Radio, KHN and NPR.
The administration's program appears to provide narrow financial assistance for COVID-related health care costs. But patients who fall through the cracks may find themselves facing substantial bills.
This article was published on Friday, October 2, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
"For example, when the COVID-19 pandemic hit, my Administration implemented a program to provide any individual without health-insurance coverage access to necessary COVID‑19‑related testing and treatment."
President Donald Trump, in an executive order, Sept. 24, 2020
In a wide-ranging executive order, President Donald Trump this month outlined some of the efforts he has made to affect health care since taking office.
This story was produced in partnership with PolitiFact.
One involved uninsured people and the current pandemic. The administration, Trump said, set up a program to provide them "access to necessary COVID-19-related testing and treatment."
Did it?
We asked the White House for more specifics about the program Trump mentioned but did not get a reply.
Nonetheless, experts said he is likely referring to reimbursement assistance to help pay the COVID testing and treatment costs of uninsured patients, which is available through the Provider Relief Fund.
This fund was established by Congress in the Coronavirus Aid, Relief and Economic Security Act to bolster eligible health care providers for lost revenue or expenses related to the pandemic.
The Trump administration said this spring it would tap into the fund to reimburse providers who test and treat uninsured COVID patients; hence, the executive order's reference to "coverage access." Here's how it works: The assistance doesn't go directly to patients. Instead, health care providers can apply for reimbursement of costs associated with testing or treating uninsured people for COVID-19. Patients must be uninsured and their primary diagnosis must be COVID-19. The program does not check immigration status in determining eligibility.
Our experts acknowledged that the fund overall has helped providers by making money available, especially important since many physicians, hospitals and other health care facilities are struggling with reduced income as elective surgeries and visits have nose-dived during the pandemic. The relief fund pays providers at standard Medicare rates for testing or treating uninsured COVID patients.
Still, many patients, and some providers, don't know about the funding to reimburse for uninsured costs. And even providers who are aware of it don't necessarily know how to use it. Hospitals and other providers are not required to publicize it. Additionally, eligibility restrictions can make it hard for some patients to qualify to have their bills paid.
"It's absolutely not broad protection or a guarantee of coverage," said Karen Pollitz, a senior fellow with KFF. "People are uninsured. They remain uninsured. If they don't know how to ask for this or the provider can't figure out how to use it, [their bills] are uncollectable." (KHN is an editorially independent program of KFF.)
What Exactly Is 'Coverage Access'?
Even before the pandemic, uninsured patients had a hard time finding medical care, often delaying needed medical services until a crisis sent them to the hospital. Federal law ensures that no one needing emergency care is turned away and must be treated until stabilized.
The relief fund program came amid calls from health insurers, Democrats and others for the Trump administration to reopen enrollment in the Affordable Care Act through the federal marketplace, which operates in 38 states.
Usually, the insurance sign-up period occurs each November. When the virus began causing concern in the U.S. in the spring, some of the 12 states (and the District of Columbia) that run their own marketplaces moved to reopen because of the pandemic, so uninsured residents could sign up.
But the Trump administration decided not to reopen the federal marketplace. Uninsured people who want to enroll either have to wait to sign up starting in November for coverage next year or see if they qualify for special enrollment because they have experienced one of several "qualifying life events." One such event is job loss that ends health coverage.
That potentially left hospitals and other medical providers holding the bag for the uninsured who fall sick with COVID.
The Health Resources and Services Administration said the fund so far has handed out a little more than $1 billion for uninsured patient reimbursement, a substantial amount but well short of publicized estimates of what it will ultimately cost hospitals and medical providers to test and treat uninsured COVID patients.
"We are appreciative" that Congress and the administration "did provide some coverage for the uninsured," said Molly Smith, vice president for coverage and state issues at the American Hospital Association. "But we don't think it's the best approach for covering the uninsured." Hospitals would have preferred something that "would have expanded comprehensive coverage."
Parts of the program work well, she said, but "there are some pretty substantial flaws."
Why 'Access' Becomes a Slippery Term
When it comes to program eligibility, two main criteria present hurdles for patients: fitting the definition of "uninsured" and receiving a primary diagnosis of COVID-19.
Failing either test could make a patient ineligible. In that case, the hospital or medical provider can either seek payment from the patient — or eat the cost.
Toqualify for coverage, the patient cannot have any kind of health insurance coverage, according to guidelines published online by HRSA.
Sources:
Telephone interview with Karen Pollitz, senior fellow at KFF, Sept. 25, 2020
Telephone interview with Jack Hoadley, research professor emeritus at Georgetown University, Sept. 25, 2020
Telephone interview with Molly Smith, vice president for coverage and state issues at the American Hospital Association, Sept. 27, 2020
Even having very limited coverage — such as a program in Medicaid that covers only family planning services such as birth control — would disqualify a patient, said Smith. Another disqualification would be the purchase of one of the limited coverage plans touted by the administration that don't cover all the same services an ACA plan would include.
The second hurdle: COVID-19 must be the primary diagnosis.
"If someone with a heart attack comes in and it turns out COVID is also involved — or could have even been the trigger," the provider might not be eligible for reimbursement, said Jack Hoadley, a research professor emeritus at Georgetown University.
Another common example, Smith said, is a patient with COVID-19 who develops sepsis, a life-threatening blood infection. Under long-standing coding and billing rules, sepsis would be the primary diagnosis, making any coronavirus-related patient care ineligibleunder the provider relief program.
Our Ruling
The Trump administration did implement a program to reimburse medical providers for testing and treatment of some uninsured patients, tapping into funding allocated by Congress.
Whether — and to what extent — the measure improved "coverage access" to care is hard to determine. The fund has paid out more than $1 billion so far.
The administration chose this route, which experts said was an incomplete fix, over following some states' lead in allowing a special enrollment period on the federal marketplace, which would have enabled people without health insurance to buy more comprehensive coverage. Meanwhile, the program has not been publicized and has confusing eligibility rules — both of which have led to speculation that it is not being used as widely as possible.
The administration's program appears to provide narrow financial assistance for COVID-related health care costs. But patients who fall through the cracks may find themselves facing substantial bills.
The premium price when Mallinckrodt acquired H.P. Acthar gel was $31,626 for a single vial, after Questcor had hiked it from around $100 in 2000. Mallinckrodt hiked the price five times to ultimately reach $39,864.
This article was published on Friday, October 2, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
For a dad whose infant son was afflicted with a rare seizure disorder, a drug invented in 1952 was indispensable for his boy. It was also indispensable to executives at the pharmaceutical firm that acquired the drug in 2014 — not because it was a cure, but because it was a "cash cow," according to documents released at a House hearing Thursday.
The firm, Mallinckrodt Pharmaceuticals, got ahold of the venerable drug called H.P. Acthar gel by buying the company that owned it before, Questcor, for $5.8 billion in 2014.
According to the documents obtained and released by the House Oversight Committee in a broad probe of drug pricing practices, Mallinckrodt targeted Questcor primarily because of Acthar, a so-called orphan drug that helps 2,500 kids a year in the U.S. afflicted by infantile spasms.
Acthar was a "premium-priced product" with a "robust cash flow profile" that would help the company "achieve aspirational goals with a single transaction," according to the company's internal discussions.
The premium price when Mallinckrodt acquired the drug was $31,626 for a single vial, after Questcor had hiked it from around $100 in 2000, according to the committee investigation. Mallinckrodt continued the trend, hiking the price five times to ultimately reach $39,864.
That's what it cost when the father had a doctor prescribe six vials for a six-week course for his son. The premium price was a shock, and his insurance company would cover only four doses.
He appealed to Mallinckrodt.
"We are in a serious bind here," he said in a message that was among 140,000 documents obtained from the company by House investigators. "Your medication is extremely expensive and we are unable to afford the 80,000 dollars needed for the remaining 2 vials."
The father is not identified in the committee documents.
A spokesperson for the company said it helped patients who reached out "get access to Acthar," but did not specify what that entailed.
Mallinckrodt CEO Mark Trudeau told the Oversight Committee on Thursday that his firm "is steadfastly committed to knocking down barriers to patient access — that's particularly true with Acthar gel."
"We've also improved the ability of patients with a prescription to obtain Acthar through our robust free drug and commercial copay assistance programs, which lead to many patients paying nothing out-of-pocket," he said, later testifying that the company is committed to lowering the "net price" of the drug to 2015 levels.
Yet, according to the documents, knocking down barriers or lowering prices has had little to do with the interest in owning Acthar. It was more about expanding the market for the drug, and profits for the company, as was the case with five other companies hauled before the committee over two days.
Indeed, Acthar was so important to the goal that executives preparing a presentation on the company's 2018 prospects bluntly wrote: "Acthar Modernization Strategy defines the Future of the Brand as either a Growth Asset or Cash Cow."
Trudeau told the committee that presentation was never made. According to the documents, even executives preparing the material seemed aware the words were too bald — but just barely. One junior executive asked in an email, "Do we really want to say 'cash cow' to the board?" The company's chief commercial officer, Hugh O'Neill, responded, "Instead of 'cash cow,' I will replace it with profit maximizer."
Committee Chairwoman Rep. Carolyn Maloney (D-N.Y.) quizzed Trudeau on the description, asking if it's true "this is how you really see this drug, not as an innovative therapy?"
"That's in fact not true," Trudeau said. "That term is typically applied to products for which no investment is likely to be going forward, and, in fact, that's exactly the opposite."
He argued that Mallinckrodt had invested $660 million in improving manufacturing of the drug and in seeking evidence that Acthar works for many other uses that the FDA permits.
Rep. Jimmy Gomez (D-Calif.) said Trudeau's answer misled the committee and he owed Maloney an apology.
"Replacing one term with another term, 'cash cow' with 'profit maximizer,' doesn't change the intent of your company, which is to make as much money as possible," Gomez said.
The "cash cow" document was about getting more patients, saying the strategy was to convince skeptics of Acthar's other uses that it was not an "overpriced steroid," and to overcome "lack of acceptance of academic opinion leaders" whose criticism "limits product penetration."
Democrats on the committee argued that not only was Mallinckrodt's intent to squeeze as much out of Acthar as it could, but also to get it from taxpayers through Medicare, where prices cannot be negotiated by law.
Rep. Harley Rouda (D-Calif.) pointed out that about 25% of Acthar sales went through Medicare when Mallinckrodt bought Questcor, and that share is over 60% now. Revenue from Medicare rose from under $50 million in 2011 to $725 million in 2018. Overall, the drug accounted for about a third of all the company's net sales in recent years, Trudeau said.
The hearing was the second this week stemming from an investigation into sky-rocketing drug prices that the committee launched in 2019. Besides Mallinckrodt, the committee hauled in executives at Amgen, Novartis, Celgene, Bristol Myers Squibb and Teva.
"What we learned was shocking. Drug companies are hiking their prices higher and higher — and placing an ever-greater burden on the very patients who rely on these drugs to survive," Maloney said.
"We also learned that claims by drug companies that their price increases are necessary for research and development are completely bogus," she added. "The internal company documents we obtained show that drug companies hike prices almost entirely for selfish reasons — they do it to meet internal revenue targets, or to increase their own bonuses in some cases."
Republicans on the committee were far less critical of the pharmaceutical companies, though many of them also complained that drug prices are too high and that Americans should be able to pay the lower prices available to people in other nations. Some argued that clamping down on pricing in the United States might inhibit new medicines from coming to market.
I was a reporter in Rome in 2005 when Italy banned smoking in restaurants. I was skeptical. For many Italians, having a cigarette with after-dinner coffee was simply part of the meal, like dessert. Also, Italians are famously lax about following rules: They dodge their taxes and park on sidewalks. As I wrote back then: "Smokers declared — basta! — they would never comply."
But to my shock (and ease of breathing, since I have asthma), very quickly everyone did.
If the Italians could do it with cigarettes, how come so many people in the United States aren't following relatively simple mandates to prevent the spread of COVID-19, which has killed more than 200,000 Americans?
Thirty-four states and Washington, D.C., have some sort of mask mandate, but many citizens and law enforcement agencies are blatantly ignoring them.
On Sept. 13, President Donald Trump held an indoor rally with thousandsof mostly unmasked supporters in Henderson, Nevada, in violation of a state mandate that prohibits gatherings of more than 50 people. Last week, Trump held a rally in an airport hangar outside Pittsburgh, where thousands of mostly maskless people were crammed, cheering, cheek-to-jowl — even though the governor had asked the campaign to follow the state's COVID-19 rules on mask use and social distancing.
An infectious disease doctor in Florida told me she felt safest when she was in the hospital because, she estimated, fewer than a fifth of the people in her community were masking or social distancing in stores, despite a mask mandate.
Some conservative groups have challenged governors' broad authority to order COVID-19 prevention measures. Last week, a judge appointed by Trump overturned Pennsylvania's limits on gatherings. But the legal standing is relatively clear. "Governors absolutely have the authority during a public health emergency to make laws — to force people to wear masks, to limit gatherings," said Jaime King, an expert on health law at the University of California Hastings College of the Law. "So I'm perplexed at why people say, 'You can't force me.'"
People who act as if these rules are optional might point to a double standard, asking why they should have to obey when others — such as protesters against racial injustice this summer — didn't. But at the protests I observed in Washington and New York City, everyone was wearing masks and mostly kept at least 3 feet apart, outdoors and moving. Yes, some people broke curfews, but there were very visible attempts at enforcement.
Mark Hall, a professor of healthcare law and public health at Wake Forest University, noted that there are what he calls "hortatory laws" — laws that are more about encouraging social norms rather than mandating behavior. But, he said, those involve "trivial" trespasses. "This does seem like a law that has much more serious consequences," he said about the masking measures. "It's not jaywalking or loitering or pooper scooping."
Maybe people just don't like masks. But we routinely obey — and police officers routinely enforce — laws with which we don't entirely agree.
You might think you can drive safely much faster than the speed limit. So maybe you push the boundary a bit, driving 65 in a 55-mph zone. But those who drive 70, 80 or more know they could well get a big ticket and so they (mostly) curb the impulse.
Many people originally objected to seat belt laws as an infringement on personal freedoms, but who doesn't buckle up these days? Not smoking in restaurants and stores is now inviolable. My family had a dog in New York City when the Canine Waste Law took effect in 1978, and it was gratifying to watch women in minks suddenly start doing their pooper-scooping duty.
A big part of the reason adherence has been so variable is that governors generally declare the mandates, and local and city officials are left to decide how to enforce them. And these simple, sensible laws to protect public health have been politicized and wrapped up in controversy as no such laws before.
So now we have some law enforcement officials announcing that they won't enforce masking laws or limits on gatherings imposed by their own governors in states like Ohio and Wisconsin.
"A sheriff or police chief giving advance notice that it's OK to break the law?" said Hall. "There's a new level of lawlessness to that." Imagine the authorities announcing it was fine to ignore stop signs.
The Italians' miraculous turnaround on restaurant smoking offers lessons. There was consistent messaging: The law was there to protect nonsmokers' health. And there were fines: 275 euros, around $320 today, for people smoking, and 220 euros for the restaurant managers or owners. The Italian police, who themselves could frequently be seen smoking while walking their beats, enforced the rule.
Gov. Andrew Cuomo was one of the few American governors who approached the coronavirus edicts almost militaristically (so un-New York) and got a tragic outbreak under control. In Maryland, a state with a Republican governor, a man who had two parties of 50 people at his home was sentenced to a year in jail.
But more governors have enforced these mandates timidly, almost apologetically. In many states, the message was muddled. In Pennsylvania, where disobedience could, on paper, lead to a $300 fine or up to 30 days in prison, state officials announced it wouldn't be enforced against individuals. Officials announced businesses could face citations if they didn't enforce the law, but the state was otherwise relying on citizens' "good sense and cooperative spirit."
The repercussions from the Trump rally that defiantly ignored Nevada's mandate? An angry tweet from the state's Democratic governor criticizing "reckless and selfish actions." Donald Ahern, the businessman who allowed the event to take place in his company's warehouse, was fined $3,000.
Enforcement is difficult when "permission comes from the top," said King. How can we expect Americans to mask up when they're watching a Trump rally and "even he is breaking the law"?
SACRAMENTO, Calif. — Though COVID-19 forced California leaders to scale back their ambitious healthcare agenda, they still managed to enact significant new laws intended to lower consumer healthcare spending and expand access to health coverage.
When Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom concluded the chaotic legislative year Wednesday what emerged wasn't the sweeping platform he and state lawmakers had outlined at the beginning of the year. But the dozens of healthcare measures they approved included first-in-the-nation policies to require more comprehensive coverage of mental health and addiction, and thrusting the state into the generic drug-making business.
"We had less time, less money and less focus, but COVID makes the causes of expanding coverage and trying to control healthcare costs that much more important," said Anthony Wright, executive director of Health Access California, a Sacramento-based consumer advocacy group.
The governor also signed into law a raft of COVID-related bills intended to address the biggest public health emergency in a century, such as measures to stockpile protective gear for healthcare workers.
This year's legislative season took place against the backdrop of an unprecedented pandemic that sparked a statewide stay-at-home order, back-to-back emergency legislative recesses, the Capitol's first foray into remote voting and a projected $54 billion budget deficit.
Among the most controversial changes Newsom signed into law was the largest expansion of the state's family leaveprogram since it was enacted in 2014, an upgrade opposed by the state's business interests. The tobacco industry also took a hit when Newsom approved a measure banning retail sale of flavored tobacco products, including menthol, with exceptions made for flavored hookah products. And Newsom bucked the powerful doctors' lobby by granting nurse practitioners the ability to practice without physician supervision.
But several contentious health bills stalled in the legislature and never made it to Newsom's desk, including measures that would have given the state attorney general more authority to reject hospital consolidations, expanded the state's Medicaid program, called Medi-Cal, to unauthorized immigrants ages 65 and up, and capped consumers' out-of-pocket costs for insulin.
Among Newsom's vetoeswere a pair of bills that sought to expand telemedicine, as well as legislation to adopt patient privacy protections for COVID-19 genetic testing.
"I think we all wish we'd had more opportunities to move more things forward," said Assembly member Jim Wood (D-Santa Rosa), who chairs the Assembly Health Committee. "Under the circumstances, I think we did a good job."
Here's a look at some of the major health measures Newsom signed into law this year. Most will take effect on Jan. 1.
Behavioral Health
Lawmakers made significant changes to mental health coverage, and perhaps the most consequential is a mental health parity bill. SB-855 requires state-regulated health insurers in California to cover all treatment deemed medically necessary for mental health and substance abuse disorders, from depression to opioid addiction. Health insurers opposed the bill, arguing it would drive up healthcare spending.
Mental health parity is already enshrined in state and federal law, but advocates say insurers regularly don't cover the critical care that patients need.
Julie Snyder, a lobbyist for the Sacramento-based Steinberg Institute, which advocates for mental healthcare policy changes, called the new law a model for the rest of the country.
"There's no other state that has anything this comprehensive," Snyder said.
Another bill, SB-803, will allow peer providers — people with their own histories of mental illness or substance abuse who help other Californians navigate behavioral health issues — to be certified by the state. Once certified, they can bill Medi-Cal for their services.
Scope of Practice
Newsom gave nurse practitioners, who are nurses with advanced training and degrees, the power to practice independently, after years of failed attempts and despite major opposition from the California Medical Association, which represents doctors. Supporters say AB-890 will help address healthcare provider shortages, especially in rural and underserved communities.
Certified nurse-midwives will also be allowed to attend low-risk pregnancies in both hospital and home settings without a physician's supervision under SB-1237.
Cutting Healthcare Costs
California will enter the highly competitive generic drug market as a result of SB-852, a first-in-the-nation law that will put the state government in direct competition with private drug manufacturers.
"The cost of healthcare is way too high," Newsom said in a statement upon signing the bill.
By January, California must forge partnerships with one or more drug companies to make or distribute a broad range of generic and biosimilar drugs that are cheaper than brand-name products. The bill specifically calls for the production of the diabetes medicine insulin, because makers have hiked prices sharply in recent years.
Newsom also approved an under-the-radar healthcare transparency measure requiring the state to collect data on the amount state-regulated health insurers pay for specific medical services, from knee replacements to asthma treatments. The data could help policymakers identify excessive spending on certain treatments and provide fodder for proposals to control healthcare costs.
"While the examination of cost has slowed down, it hasn't ended," said state Sen. Richard Pan (D-Sacramento), who chairs the Senate Health Committee.
Newsom also signed legislation cementing into state law key provisions in the Affordable Care Act, a move guaranteeing Californians will not lose coverage protections should the U.S. Supreme Court strike down the law.
SB-406 will ban health insurers in California from imposing annual or lifetime limits on coverage, and also requires health insurers to cover a range of preventive care services, from cholesterol and blood pressure screenings to immunizations, without charging patients copays or deductibles.
COVID-19
As California continues to grapple with the highest COVID-19 case counts in the country, lawmakers approved a suite of bills in response to the pandemic, largely intended to protect essential workers.
Employers will have to provide written notice within one business day to employees who may have been exposed to the COVID-19 virus at their worksite. They must also report the details of workplace outbreaks to local public health authorities within 48 hours. AB-685 was prompted by major outbreaks this year at food-processing plants.
Newsom also signed legislation making it easier for firefighters, healthcare workers and other front-line workers infected with the coronavirus to get workers' compensation. SB-1159 took effect Sept. 17, the day the governor signed it.
State law now presumes these front-line workers were infected with the virus on the job unless their employers prove otherwise.
Certain employees who have been exposed to the virus will also have more paid sick leave time. Under AB-1867, food-processing companies with at least 500 workers must provide two weeks of paid sick leave to workers who have been exposed to COVID-19 or have been advised to quarantine.
The law also grants healthcare workers and emergency responders two weeks of paid sick leave, closing a loophole in a COVID-relief bill Congress approved this spring.
Two new laws will address another major challenge exposed by the coronavirus pandemic: the lack of adequate personal protective gear for healthcare workers. AB-2537 will require hospitals to stockpile a three-month supply of protective gear by April, while SB-275 mandates that the California Department of Public Health establish an additional stockpile for health and other essential workers to last 90 days during a pandemic.
Nursing homes, which have been at the epicenter of COVID-19 deaths, will be required to have a full-time "infection preventionist" on staff to help stem the spread of disease. The bill, AB-2644, also will require nursing homes to report deaths from a communicable disease to the state within 24 hours during an emergency related to that disease.
And California's roughly 40,000 licensed pharmacists will be allowed to administer COVID-19 vaccines that have been approved by the Food and Drug Administration under AB-1710.
The mixed messages from President Trump and ensuing confusion leave governors, and often state and local health officials, holding the bag of political consequences.
This article was published on Thursday, October 1, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
While the president and vice president forgo masks at rallies, the White House is quietly encouraging governors to implement mask mandates and, for some, enforce them with fines.
In reports issued to governors on Sept. 20, the White House Coronavirus Task Force recommended statewide mask mandates in Iowa, Missouri and Oklahoma. The weekly memos, some of which have been made public by the Center for Public Integrity, advocate mask usage for other states and have even encouraged doling out fines in Alaska, Idaho and, recently, Montana.
Masks, a political flashpoint since the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic, are considered by public health officials to be a top safeguard against spreading the COVID-19 virus as the country awaits a vaccine. But the president's own actions on masks have wavered: He has called them "patriotic" but often doesn't wear one himself and has contradicted the advice of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention director. During the presidential debate Tuesday, the president said masks were "OK" and then mocked Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden's mask-wearing habits. In the audience, some Trump family members and staffers were not wearing masks, despite the rules set by the Cleveland Clinic, which hosted the debate.
The mixed messages and ensuing confusion leave governors, and often state and local health officials, holding the bag of political consequences.
"At some point, we have to turn the corner on this ridiculous separation of what we're being told is best practice and being guided by science and data, and what the actual practices are by the people who issue them," said Lori Tremmel Freeman, CEO of the National Association of County and City Health Officials.
So far, 16 states have yet to enact mask mandates for the general public — all of them are run by Republican governors. Three out of 4 Americans support enacting state laws to require mask-wearing in public at all times, according to an August NPR/Ipsos poll.
To be sure, messaging and the science on masks have evolved: U.S. public health officials did not recommend mask-wearing until April. And the White House argues the president has been clear.
"He recommends wearing a mask when you cannot socially distance," White House spokesperson Brian Morgenstern told KHN. "He has worn masks on numerous occasions himself when appropriate and regularly encourages others to do so, as well, when social distancing is not possible."
The pandemic task force sends weekly memos to states to share data and recommendations with leaders to help them make decisions, Morgenstern added. "They're free to share that information as they see fit."
Courtney Parella, a spokesperson for the Trump campaign, said that the staffers check the temperature of every attendee before admission to rallies, provide masks and encourage attendees to wear them, and offer hand sanitizer.
On Sept. 14, Pence stood before a crowdof hundreds in Belgrade, Montana, to stump for the state's Republicans, including Sen. Steve Daines, gubernatorial candidate U.S. Rep. Greg Gianforte and congressional candidate Matt Rosendale. Photos show that most who attended went without masks, including the vice president, despite a mask order in effect for the surrounding county.
Montana calls on everyone to wear masks at outdoor gatherings of 50 or more people in counties with at least four active cases when attendees don't stay 6 feet apart.
Photos show people sitting and standing close together at the event in southwestern Montana. Pence signed hats as people gathered shoulder to shoulder by the rails of a crowd divider.
Six days later, the White House coronavirus reports recommended Montana officials issue fines for those who ignore mask mandates in places the disease is spreading fast.
"What would be helpful from the White House is consistency in their recommendations and their actions," said Matt Kelley, health officer for the Gallatin City-County Health Department. "It's one thing to make a recommendation to state and local health officials to fine people. It's made more difficult to do that when we have the vice president coming here to a rally where no one, very few people, were wearing masks."
During a press call last week, Montana Gov. Steve Bullock said he didn't plan to follow the White House advice to punish those without masks. The Democrat, who is running for Senate, said it's better to encourage people to use masks than rely on fines.
But Bullock said the point of the White House's request was clear. "Even the federal government says we need to be taking wearing masks seriously," he said. "It's not just governors saying that we should do this and it's not just health experts saying we should be wearing masks."
Missouri Gov. Mike Parson is among the Republican governors who have resisted a statewide masking order, despite the White House's recommendation.
"You don't need government to tell you to wear a dang mask," Parson said in July at a Missouri Cattlemen's Association steak fry, according to the Springfield News-Leader. "If you want to wear a dang mask, wear a mask."
Parson and his wife, Teresa, tested positive for COVID-19 last Wednesday.
Spokesperson Kelli Jones said last Thursday that the governor does not plan to enact a mask order, based on an assessment of current COVID data. She added state officials consider the White House reports "really more of an FYI" than a mandate.
"It's kind of a bizarre document, truthfully," she said. "We read them and look at them — and make our own policy."
The reports, which are sent to the governors, also leave local and state public health officials in the dark, said Freeman, of NACCHO.
"If the White House were truly serious about making these — what sounds like solid, scientific-backed, data-backed recommendations — if they were truly serious about it, tell the world, share them, be transparent," she said.
Instead, former CDC director Dr. Tom Frieden said, the White House has fueled the partisan breakdown on masks.
"One of the many failures of this administration is the politicization of masks, and that has really cost lives," Frieden said. "There is no reason masks should be partisan."
Meanwhile back in Montana, Gallatin County appears to be heading toward its third surge in cases since the pandemic began.
"I don't really have a lot of time to worry about inconsistency of messaging from the White House," health officer Kelley said.
The county now has outbreaks in nursing homes and several confirmed cases in schools, he said, and the county's positivity rate is heading toward 10%.
Podiatrist Dr. Mark Lewis greets his first patient of the morning in his suburban Seattle exam room and points to a tiny video camera mounted on the right rim of his glasses. "This is my scribe, Jacqueline," he says. "She can see us and hear us."
Jacqueline is watching the appointment on her computer screen after the sun has set, 8,000 miles away in Mysore, a southern Indian city known for its palaces and jasmine flowers. She copiously documents the details of each visit and enters them into the patient's electronic health record, or EHR.
Jacqueline (her real first name, according to her employer), works for San Francisco-based Augmedix, a startup with 1,000 medical scribes in South Asia and the U.S. The company is part of a growing industry that profits from a confluence of healthcare trends — including, now, the pandemic — that are dispersing patient care around the globe.
Medical scribes first appeared in the 1970s as note takers for emergency room physicians. But the practice took off after 2009, when the federal HITECH Act incentivizedhealthcare providers to adopt EHRs. These were supposed to simplify patient record-keeping, but instead they generated a need for scribes. Doctors find entering notes and data into poorly designed EHR software cumbersome and time-consuming. So scribing is a fast-growing field in the U.S., with the workforce expanding from 15,000 in 2015 to an estimated 100,000 this year.
A 2016 study found that doctors spent 37% of a patient visit on a computer and an average of two extra hours after work on EHR tasks. EHR use contributes to physician burnout, increasingly considered a public health crisis in itself.
Before COVID-19, most scribes — typically young, aspiring health professionals — worked in the exam room a few paces away from the doctor and patient. This year, as the pandemic led patients to shun clinics and hospitals, many scribes were laid off or furloughed. Many have returned, but scribes are increasingly working online — even from the other side of the world.
Remote scribes are patched into the exam room's sound via a tablet or speaker, or through a video connection. Some create doctors' notes in real time; others annotate after visits. And some have help from speech-recognition software programs that grow more accurate with use.
While many remote scribes are based in the United States, others are abroad, primarily in India. Chanchal Toor was a dental school graduate facing limited job opportunities in India when a subcontractor to Augmedix hired her in 2015. Some of her scribe colleagues also trained or aspired to become dentists or other health professionals, she said. Now a manager for Augmedix in San Francisco, Toor said scribing, even remotely, made her feel like part of a healthcare team.
Augmedix recruits people who have a bachelor's degree or the equivalent, and screens for proficiency in English reading, listening comprehension and writing, the company said. Once on board, scribes undergo about three months of training. The curriculum includes medical terminology, anatomy, physiology and mock visits.
Revenue has grown this year, and his sales team has grown from four to 14 members, Augmedix CEO Manny Krakaris said. Sachin Gupta, CEO of IKS Health, which employs Indian doctors as remote scribes for their U.S. counterparts, projects 50% revenue growth this year for its scribing business. He said the company employs 4,000 people but declined to share how many are scribes.
Remote scribe "Edwin" gives internist Dr. Susan Fesmire more time, freeing her from having to finish 20 charts at the end of every day. "It was like constantly having homework that you don't finish," she said. With the help of "Edwin" — Fesmire said he declines to use his real name — she had the time and energy to become chief operating officer of her small Dallas practice. Edwin works for Physicians Angels, which employs 500 remote scribes in India. Fesmire pays $14 an hour for his services.
Doctors with foreign scribes say notes may need minor editing for dialectal differences and scribes may be unfamiliar with local vocabulary. "I had a patient from Louisiana," said Fesmire, "and Edwin said afterward, 'What is chicory, doctor?'" But she also praised his notes as more accurate and complete than her own.
Kevin Brady, president of Physicians Angels, said their scribes start at $500 to $600 per month, plus healthcare and retirement benefits, while senior scribes make $1,000 to $1,500 — middle-class family incomes in India. Employers are requiredto provide employees with health insurance, although many scribes are contractors, and the job site Indeed.com says the average salary for a scribe in India is$500 a month. Scribes in the U.S. get about $2,500.
Remote scribing is still a small part of the market. Craig Newman, chief strategy officer of HealthChannels, parent to ScribeAmerica, the largest scribing company in the U.S., said that the firm's remote scribing business has increased threefold since the pandemic's outset but that "a large majority" of the company's 26,000 U.S. scribes still work in person.
For patients, studies suggest scribes have a positive orneutral effect on satisfaction. Some have privacy concerns, though, and state laws vary on whether a patient must be notified that someone is watching and listening many miles away.
Only 1% of patients refuse a remote scribe when asked by physicians at Massachusetts General Physicians Organization, said Dr. David Ting, the practice's chief medical information officer. His group, an IKS Health client, always seeks patient consent, Ting said.
Scribes aren't for everyone, though. Janis Ulevich, a retiree in Palo Alto, California, declines her primary care doctor's remote scribe. "Conversations with your doctor can be intimate," said Ulevich. "I don't like other people listening in."
Some patients may not have the opportunity to decline. With limited exceptions, federal laws like HIPAA, the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, don't require doctors to seek a patient's consent before sharing their health information with a company that supports the practice's work (like a scribe firm), as long as that company signed a contract agreeing to protect the patient's data, said Chris Apgar, a former HIPAA compliance officer.
About one-quarter of U.S. states require all parties in a conversation to agree to be recorded, meaning they require a patient's permission. Some states also have special privacy protections for certain groups, like people with HIV/AIDS, or very strict informed-consent or privacy laws, said Matt Fisher, a partner at Massachusetts law firm Mirick O'Connell.
Remote scribing also raises cybersecurity concerns. Reported data breaches are rare, but some scribe companies have lax security, said Cliff Baker, CEO of the healthcare cybersecurity firm Corl Technologies.
The next step in the trend could be no human scribes at all. Tech giants like Google, EHR companies and venture-backed startups are developing or already marketing artificial intelligence tools aimed at reducing or eliminating the need for humans to document visits.
AI and scribes won't eliminate physician burnout that stems from the nature of the healthcare system, said Dr. Rebekah Gardner, an associate professor of medicine at Brown University who researches the issue. Neither can take on burnout-driving EHR tasks like submitting requests for insurance company approval of procedures, drugs and tests, she said.