There's broad agreement that core public health work — the ability to find people with the virus and prevent them from passing it to others — will be essential to reopening schools and businesses.
This article was first published on Monday, April 13, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Last month, facing the prospect of overwhelmed hospitals and unchecked spread of the novel coronavirus, seven Bay Area county and city health departments joined forces to become the first region in the nation to pass sweeping regulations ordering millions of people indoors and shuttering the local economy.
It shocked people, but health experts around the country applauded the bold step, which since has been broadly replicated.
They also say it can't go on forever. And so Bay Area leaders, along with others around the nation, are trying to figure out how we can resume something akin to normal life without triggering a catastrophic wave of illness and death.
The shelter-in-place orders were a sledgehammer response to two colliding realities: a little-understood virus that is proving ferociously deadly in vulnerable populations and a withered public health infrastructure that has made it impossible to track and contain the spread of the virus that causes COVID-19.
For all the light the new virus has shone on vulnerabilities of the U.S. hospital system — shortfalls in hospital capacity, ventilators and protective gear — what many officials see are the cracks in the foundations of public health.
"Nothing should come as a surprise," said Laura Biesiadecki, senior director for preparedness, recovery and response with the National Association of County and City Health Officials, which represents more than 3,000 local health departments. "What you're seeing in COVID-19 is an exacerbation of existing fault lines that everyone in the public health community has recognized over the years."
Still, there's broad agreement that core public health work — the ability to find people with the virus and prevent them from passing it to others — will be essential to reopening schools and businesses. That strategy is endorsed by the director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, who recently told NPR the agency was working on a plan to deploy more disease investigators.
We spoke with more than two dozen health experts to get their thoughts on what public health resources will be needed to reopen the economy.
1. What works?
It may be rare that theWorld Health Organization and experts on the right and left in the U.S. see the same solutions to a problem, but that's the case when it comes to reopening the economy in the face of COVID-19. The principles are simple: Stabilize the number of people who have the virus (through the strict social distancing already in place), and ensure hospitals can handle the cases they have. Then, put tools in place to stop new infections in their tracks so there isn't a renewed outbreak.
It all starts with testing, and several countries that revamped their public health programs in the wake of the deadly 2003 SARS epidemic seem to be reaping the benefits now. That includes Singapore, which quickly ramped up testing for both active infections of COVID-19 and an antibody test to show previous infection, and South Korea, which tested tens of thousands of people in the weeks after it detected its first cases.
South Korea, like many other Asian countries, is also relying on hundreds of workers armed with phone location data, credit card information and security footage to try to reach everyone who has come into contact with an infected person. Authorities release detailed information to the public whenever someone infected has been in their area. Though South Korea and Singapore report a recent surge in cases imported from abroad, both countries have seen far more moderate economic and health fallouts than has the U.S.
Politically and culturally, European nations make for an easier comparison with the U.S. Germany not only deployed widespread testing early on, but it also has sent health teams to people's homes to check for symptoms and initiate aggressive interventions if symptoms arise.
Italy, which has had more than double the deaths of China despite having less than 5% of its population, has lessons for the U.S. as well — and not all grim.
The scenes from Lombardy, where doctors have rationed care for weeks, making decisions about who lives and who dies, are bleak. But neighboring Veneto, which found its first case of the virus on the same day as Lombardy, is faring much better, said Dr. Nancy Binkin, a professor at the University of California-San Diego who spent 12 of her 20 years at the CDC embedded in Italy's public health system.
Binkin and colleagues suspect the difference lies in the extensive use of public health tools to contain the initial outbreak in Veneto. That included testing nearly everyone in the town of Vò where the first cases were found, quarantining that city, and making heavy use of assistenti sanitari, or health assistants, to track down people with the virus and make sure they stay isolated.
There have been far fewer infected health workers in Veneto, and deaths overall, than in Lombardy, which is renowned for the quality of its hospitals and health care.
What the places with fewer cases have in common is not just social distancing, said Binkin, but also aggressive tactics to identify and isolate people with the virus.
2. How does the U.S. compare?
U.S. public health budgets and staff have hemorrhaged over the years, accompanied by a steady stream of warning calls that the U.S. was not ready to face a pandemic.
When COVID-19 arrived, identifying and tracking everyone with the virus was all but impossible for local health departments because of flawed tests and narrow guidelines for who should get tested. Compounding the problem was a beleaguered public health infrastructure.
The stay-at-home orders are largely about slowing the spread of the virus — to keep hospitals from being overwhelmed — not necessarily about preventing cases, said Adia Benton, an anthropologist at Northwestern University who studies inequalities in global health. Mobilizing a massive workforce to isolate everyone with the virus could prevent infections, Benton said. "The interventions we see reflect what we value," she said.
Public health is run locally, and health departments have different resources and organization. They are also confronting different degrees of outbreak.
In Tennessee, front-line health workers still are contact tracing everyone who gets the virus. To do so, many employees are working seven days a week, 12 hours a day, said Dr. Mary-Margaret Fill, a physician and epidemiologist with the state who is helping coordinate its emergency response. "They are the internal cog in this response; without them we fall apart," she said.
In California, public health is the responsibility of counties, and resources vary wildly. Many, including Sacramento and Orange counties, moved away from contact tracing weeks ago, citing minimal access to testing and a surge in cases. (A lack of testing is one thing nearly all health departments have in common.)
Even San Francisco, with its abundant wealth and renowned expertise in HIV, was relying on a skeleton staff to track routine communicable diseases like measles, tuberculosis and sexually transmitted diseases, according to the city's health officer, Dr. Tomás Aragón.
Los Angeles County, with its 4,000 public health employees, is still doing some contact tracing for every person who tests positive, said Dr. Barbara Ferrer, director of the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health. Rural Tulare County is trying to do the same, but has pinpointed the need for more people to trace cases as its greatest hurdle.
Those techniques matter everywhere. "Social distancing, contact tracing, identification, quarantine and isolation. We need all of those tools," said Ferrer.
3. How do we ramp up?
Experts say the situation necessitates, at least temporarily, adding thousands of people to the ranks of public health. Three former Obama administration officials called for a "public health firefighting force" via a program like AmeriCorps or the Peace Corps.
Others suggest we make use of programs already in place. The Medical Reserve Corps program, a national network of volunteer medical and public health professionals, has 175,000 volunteers, some of whom have already been deployed to state health departments, said Biesiadecki. That program could be expanded.
"We need a Marshall Plan. We need a New Deal. We need a WPA for public health," said Gregg Gonsalves, a Yale epidemiologist who won a MacArthur Fellowship for his work on global health and justice.
And it doesn't necessarily require M.D.s, Ph.D.s or even public health degrees. In many countries, governments have trained community health workers in situations like these.
But in the absence of a federal program, some local departments in the U.S. are already taking up the cause. San Francisco, for example, is planning to recruit around 160 people to keep tabs on people diagnosed with the virus. Aragón said he hopes to repurpose staff from within the county where possible, and hire where necessary.
"We started off with a scarcity mentality," Aragón said. "We have to have an abundance mentality. The amount of money that's being lost economically, if we put just a fraction of that into our public health workforce, we could get the economy back up and running."
Massachusetts asked the global health nonprofit Partners in Health to help it hire1,000 people to carry out mass contact tracing.
In Connecticut, Yale University faculty said they realized the state had the capacity to contact trace only in Fairfield County, a wealthy bedroom community of New York, leaving few resources for much poorer New Haven, where the university is located. So they recruited more than 100 public health, nursing and medical students, said Dr. Sten Vermund, dean of Yale School of Medicine. The volunteers were trained online by the state and, working alongside university staff, have been doing contact tracing for the local hospital.
But he doesn't think these volunteer efforts are the solution. Vermund called it "the definition of insanity" if the U.S. didn't take this moment to reinvest in public health. "There is no greater threat to the economic well-being of planet Earth," he said, "than pandemic respiratory viral illness."
Probably few hospital systems need the emergency federal grants announced this week to handle the coronavirus crisis as badly as Florida’s Jackson Health does.
This article was first published on Friday, April 10, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Probably few hospital systems need the emergency federal grants announced this week to handle the coronavirus crisis as badly as Florida’s Jackson Health does.
Miami, its base of operations, is the worst COVID-19 hot spot in one of the most severely hit states. Even in normal years, the system sometimes barely makes money. At least two of its staff members have died of the virus.
But in a scathing letter to policymakers, system CEO Carlos Migoya said the way Washington has handled the bailout “could jeopardize the very existence” of Jackson, one of the nation’s largest public health systems, and similar hospital groups.
“We are here for you right now,” Migoya, who has tested positive for COVID-19 himself, said in a Thursday letter to Alex Azar, secretary of Health and Human Services. “Please, be here for us right now.”
Migoya and executives at other beleaguered systems are blasting the government’s decision to take a one-size-fits-all approach to distributing the first $30 billion in emergency grants. HHS confirmed Friday it would give hospitals and doctors money according to their historical share of revenue from the Medicare program for seniors — not according to their coronavirus burden.
That method is “woefully insufficient to address the financial challenges facing hospitals at this time, especially those located in ‘hot spot’ areas such as the New York City region,” Kenneth Raske, CEO of the Greater New York Hospital Association, said in a memo to association members.
States such as Minnesota, Nebraska and Montana, which the pandemic has touched relatively lightly, are getting more than $300,000 per reported COVID-19 case in the $30 billion, according to a Kaiser Health News analysis.
On the other hand, New York, the worst-hit state, would receive only $12,000 per case. Florida is getting $132,000 per case. KHN relied on an analysis by staff on the House Ways and Means Committee along with COVID-19 cases tabulated by The New York Times.
The CARES Act, the emergency law passed last month to address the pandemic, gives HHS wide latitude to administer $100 billion in grants to hospitals and doctors.
But the decision to allocate the first $30 billion according to past Medicare business surprised many observers.
The law says the $100 billion is intended “to prevent, prepare for and respond to coronavirus,” including paying for protective equipment, testing supplies, extra employees and temporary shelters and other measures ahead of an expected surge of cases. It says hospitals must apply for the money.
“It seems weird that they wouldn’t just target areas geographically based on where the surge has been,” said Chas Roades, CEO of Gist Healthcare, a consulting firm.
Issuing the funds based on Medicare revenue “allowed us to make initial payments to providers as quickly as possible,” an HHS spokesperson said Friday. Some of the money was expected to go out as soon as Friday in electronic deposits.
HHS “has failed to consider congressional intent” in distributing the $30 billion by not accounting for “the number of COVID-19 cases hospitals are treating,” New Jersey Sens. Bob Menendez and Cory Booker and Rep. Bill Pascrell said in a Friday letter to Azar.
All three are Democrats. Behind New York, New Jersey has the second-highest number of recorded coronavirus cases, as of Friday afternoon.
The administration is struggling to balance the need to help systems slammed by the coronavirus with the need to provide immediate relief, said Bill Horton, a health care lawyer with Jones Walker in Birmingham, Alabama.
“Providers have to appreciate that there is a focus on trying to respond to their cries of pain and coming up with ways to get some money out there,” he said. On the other hand, he said, HHS sets itself up for criticism by paying “a chunk of money without particular regard for who has been hardest hit.”
Medicare revenue can vary sharply by hospital, depending on who their patients are and what part of the country they are in.
HHS’ method “could tilt the playing field” against hospitals whose patients are largely uninsured or covered by the Medicaid program for low-income patients, said Bruce Siegel, CEO of America’s Essential Hospitals, a group of systems serving the poor and vulnerable.
HHS said the next slice of the $100 billion to go out “will focus on providers in areas particularly impacted by the COVID-19 outbreak” as well as rural hospitals and those with lower shares of Medicare revenue.
Jackson Health’s budget depends heavily on reimbursement for the kind of elective procedures that it has canceled to ensure it has the capacity to handle COVID-19 patients, Migoya said. Lost revenue is $25 million per month, it estimates.
“We cut off our own funding sources in order to sustain our mission,” he wrote in the letter to Azar.
Hospitals in relatively COVID-19-free areas, on the other hand, could continue elective procedures but still receive a big chunk of the $30 billion, said Gerard Anderson, a health economist at Johns Hopkins University.
“If I’m in rural Kansas and I don’t have any COVID patients in my area, I’m not going to ― I should not — stop doing elective surgeries,” he said.
Even the type of Medicare payments hospitals typically receive will give some systems a much bigger share of the $30 billion than others of the same size.
HHS is basing the payments on traditional “fee for service” Medicare revenue. But hospitals with a big chunk of managed care Medicare business, called Medicare Advantage, won’t be credited for that.
In Florida, more than four Medicare members out of every 10 are in Medicare Advantage plans, one of the highest portions in the country, according to the Kaiser Family Foundation. (KHN is an editorially independent program of the foundation.)
In New York, 39% of beneficiaries are in Medicare Advantage. In Montana, by contrast, the figure is 17%. In Wyoming, it’s 3%.
Jackson’s South Florida location and patient mix “both skew heavily away from the fee-for-service model,” Migoya wrote. “No one wants to talk about money in the middle of a health crisis, but hope alone will not cash checks to employees or suppliers.”
KHN correspondent Rachana Pradhan contributed to this report.
Thousands of doctors, hospitals and other health providers are reaching out for a lifeline made available in the series of federal relief measures to counteract the effects of the viral outbreak.
This article was first published on Friday, April 10, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Darrin Menard, a family physician in Lafayette, Louisiana, has spent the past month easing patients" anxieties about the coronavirus that has killed 10 people in his parish so far.
But Menard has his own fears: How will his medical practice survive the pandemic?
His office typically sees 70 patients a day, but now it handles half that amount and many of those appointments are done over the phone or computer. He said revenue in the practice has dropped by 40% — which makes it challenging to pay a mortgage, staff salaries, malpractice insurance, utilities, electronic health records costs and other expenses.
To help stay afloat, Menard is one of thousands of doctors, hospitals and other health providers reaching out for a lifeline made available in the series of federal relief measures to counteract the effects of the viral outbreak.
He applied last week for a three-month advance on his Medicare billings, which he hopes will bring in about $120,000 or more to cushion the strain. He"s also applying for the Small Business Administration"s Paycheck Protection loans to help cover costs of meeting payroll.
"We are quite thankful for the help so I can keep the lights on in the office for us to be available for our patients," Menard said.
"Healthcare providers are making massive financial sacrifices to care for the influx of coronavirus patients," CMS Administrator Seema Verma said in a statement.
"Many are rightly complying with federal recommendations to delay non-essential elective surgeries to preserve capacity and personal protective equipment. They shouldn"t be penalized for doing the right thing. Amid a public health storm of unprecedented fury, these payments are helping providers and suppliers ― so critical to defeating this terrible virus — stay afloat."
The federal help has inspired private insurers such as UnitedHealth Group and several Blue Cross Blue Shield plans to offer advanced payments and other financial support.
CMS in April has received more than 25,000 requests from providers and suppliers for expedited payments and has approved more than 17,000 requests. Before the pandemic, CMS had approved about 100 requests for advanced payments in the past five years, mostly for natural disasters such as hurricanes and tornadoes.
Most physicians can get an advance on three months of their Medicare reimbursements, and hospitals can get up to six months. Hospitals will generally have up to one year from the date the accelerated payment was made to repay the balance. Doctors will have up to seven months to complete repayments.
To put all this $51 billion in financial aid in perspective, traditional Medicare in 2019 paid $484 billion to health care providers.
Coronavirus patients are overwhelming hospitals in cities including New York, New Orleans and Detroit. But as other health systems brace for similar spikes, they are also seeing sharp drop-offs in regular doctor visits, emergency room arrivals, and the lucrative surgeries and medical procedures that are vital to their bottom lines.
The advanced Medicare payments are just part of the hundreds of billions of dollars the federal government is providing doctors, hospitals and other health providers.
Congress also set up a separate $100 billion program for hospitals and other health providers with coronavirus-related expenses.
The Trump administration Tuesday said it will begin distributing the first $30 billion from this fund to hospitals this week. The money will go to all hospitals based on their Medicare fee-for-service revenue.
Lobbying groups representing safety-net hospitals slammed the decision because they get a lower share of their revenue from Medicare than some other hospitals do. And safety-net hospitals have a higher percentage of patients who are uninsured or covered by Medicaid, the state-federal health insurance program for low-income people.
It also upset hospitals in New York, the epicenter of the U.S. epidemic, because they were getting no more funding than hospitals little affected by the outbreak.
Verma said the administration"s top priority was getting the funding to hospitals as quickly as possible. She said children"s hospitals, nursing homes, pediatricians and other health care providers that receive much of their revenue from Medicaid and other sources will be given priority when the second round of funding is distributed.
Other federal steps to help providers include Medicare for the first time paying for telemedicine treatments at the same rate as in-person visits. Previously, those fees paid less than half of what in-person visits paid.
Congress has also suspended a 2% Medicare reimbursement cut and bumped up Medicare fees by 20% for treating COVID-19 patients. The Trump administration said it is also paying hospitals Medicare rates for uninsured COVID-19 patients.
The billions in advanced Medicare payments are seen as one of the quickest ways to get funds to struggling hospitals and doctors.
"It"s money we will desperately need," said Patrick McCabe, senior vice president of finance at Yale New Haven Health, the largest health system in Connecticut. It is counting on more than $450 million in advanced Medicare payments to get through the pandemic — at least for the next couple of months.
The health system, which runs a $5 billion annual budget, could lose more than $600 million as a result of the added expenses of preparing and dealing with COVID-19 and the drop-off in other revenue, he said. Such a loss — without any federal assistance — would more than wipe out the health system"s ability to upgrade equipment and keep up with rising expenses, he added.
McCabe said determining whether the federal relief will be enough depends on how long the pandemic lasts.
Shelly Schlenker, senior vice president of public policy and advocacy for CommonSpirit Health, a Chicago-based Catholic health system with 137 hospitals, said she expects all these facilities will apply for advanced Medicare payments.
"Hospitals are in urgent need of assistance to meet the demands of the pandemic," she said. "It"s an unprecedented time."
Even with all the government help, industry analysts say, the economic fallout from COVID-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus, will rock the health industry, which communities often count on to fuel their economies.
The average large hospital will see about a 51% decline in revenue as a result of the pandemic, said Christopher Kerns, vice president at the Advisory Board Co., a consulting firm.
While some patients who postpone procedures will return, Kern said, hospital systems shouldn"t expect a quick recovery. "Health systems are going to try to capture as much pent-up demand as possible, but there are big challenges with that," he said.
Before the crisis, a quarter of U.S. rural hospitals were at high risk of closing, according to a report this month from consulting firm Guidehouse. These 354 hospitals span 40 states, though most are in the Southeast and central states.
"It was already troubling that the economic outlook for rural hospitals deteriorated during the longest period of uninterrupted economic growth our country has ever experienced," said Dave Mosley, a Guidehouse partner. "A major crisis like the COVID-19 pandemic or any significant economic downturn is likely to make the situation even more dire."
Update: This story was updated on April 10 at 9:40 a.m. ET to add the new figure from federal officials on the Medicare fee-for-service spending in 2019.
Advanced age is associated with significantly worse outcomes for older patients, and even those who survive are unlikely to return to their previous level of functioning.
This article was first published on Thursday, April 9, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Reports of recovery from serious illness caused by the coronavirus have been trickling in from around the world.
Physicians are swapping anecdotes on social media: a 38-year-old man who went home after three weeks at the Cleveland Clinic, including 10 days in intensive care. A 93-year-old woman in New Orleans whose breathing tube was removed, successfully, after three days. A patient at Massachusetts General Hospital who was taken off a ventilator after five days and was doing well.
"Patients are definitely recovering from Covid-19 ARDS [acute respiratory distress syndrome] and coming off vents," Dr. Theodore "Jack" Iwashyna, a professor of pulmonary and critical care medicine at the University of Michigan, wrote on Twitter recently.
But the outlook for older adults, who account for a disproportionate share of critically ill COVID-19 patients, is not encouraging. Advanced age is associated with significantly worse outcomes for older patients, and even those who survive are unlikely to return to their previous level of functioning.
According to a new study in The Lancet based on data from China, the overall death rate for people diagnosed with coronavirus is 1.4%. But that rises to 4% for those in their 60s, 8.6% for people in their 70s and 13.4% for those age 80 and older.
How often do people who are critically ill recover? According to a report from Britain out last week, of 775 patients with COVID-19 admitted to critical care, 79 died, 86 survived and were discharged to another location, and 609 were still being treated in critical care, with uncertain futures. Experts note this is preliminary data, before a surge of patients expected over the next several weeks.
According to a just-published small study of 24 critically ill COVID-19 patients treated in Seattle hospitals, 50% died within 18 days. (Four of the 12 who died had a do-not-resuscitate order in place.) Of those who survived, three remained on ventilators in intensive care units, four left the ICU but stayed in the hospital, and five were discharged home. The study appeared in the New England Journal of Medicine.Bottom of Form
What does recovery from COVID-19 look like? I asked Dr. Kenneth Lyn-Kew, an associate professor of pulmonology and critical care medicine at National Jewish Health in Denver, named the No.1 respiratory hospital in the nation last year by U.S. News & World Report. Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Q: What's known about recovery?
It's helpful to think about mild, moderate and severe disease. Most people, upwards of 80%, will have mild symptoms. Their recovery typically takes a couple of weeks. They might feel horrible, profoundly fatigued, with muscle aches, a bad cough, a fever and chest discomfort. Then, that goes away. Also, there are some people who never have symptoms, who never even know they had it.
Q: What about people with moderate illness?
Because we're so early into this, we have less information about these patients. Often, they spend a few days in the hospital. People feel more short of breath: Sometimes, an underlying condition like asthma is exacerbated. Typically, they need a bit of oxygen for a few days.
Also, there are patients who have high fevers or severe diarrheal illness with COVID-19. Those patients can get dehydrated and need IV fluids.
There also appears to be a small population of people who can develop myocarditis ― inflammation of the heart. They come in with symptoms that mimic heart attacks.
Q: How long do these patients stay hospitalized?
It can vary. Some people get a little oxygen and IV fluid and leave the hospital after two to three days. Some of these moderate patients start to look a little better, then all of a sudden get a lot worse and decompensate.
Q: What about patients with serious illness?
Many of the sickest patients have acute respiratory distress syndrome [ARDS, a disease that floods the lungs with fluid and deprives people of oxygen]. These are the patients who end up on mechanical ventilators.
Those least likely to recover seem to be frail older patients with other preexisting illnesses such as COPD [chronic obstructive pulmonary disease] or heart disease. But there's no guarantee that a young person who gets ARDS will recover.
ARDS mortality is usually between 30% and 40%. But if you break that down, people who have ARDS due to trauma — for instance, car accidents ― tend to have lower death rates than people who have ARDS due to infection. For older people, who tend to have more infections, mortality rates are much higher — up to 60%. But this isn't COVID-specific data. We still have a lot to learn about that.
Q: If someone is sick enough to need ventilation, what's involved?
People usually need a couple of weeks of mechanical ventilation.
Ventilation is very uncomfortable for many people and they end up on medication to make them more comfortable. For some people, just a bit of medication is enough.
Other people require heavier doses of medications such as narcotics, propofol, benzodiazepines or Precedex [a sedative]. Because they act on your brain, these medications can induce delirium [a sudden, serious alteration in thinking and awareness]. We really try to minimize that because delirium has a significant impact on a person's recovery.
Being on more medication affects other things also: a patient's sleep-wake cycle. Their mobility, which can make them weaker. It can slow down their gastrointestinal tract so they don't tolerate nutrition as well and get suboptimal nutrition. Many of these patients end up having PTSD [post-traumatic stress disorder] and impaired concentration afterwards.
Q: When can someone go off a respirator?
There are three criteria. They have to be awake enough to protect their swallowing mechanism and their airway. They have to have a low enough need for oxygen that I can support that with something else, such as nasal prongs. And they have to be able to clear enough carbon dioxide.
Q: What will a patient look like at the end of those two weeks?
That depends. If we're able to do everything right, these people are up and walking around with the ventilator. Those patients come out on the other end looking pretty good. Maybe they'll have some weakness, some weight loss, a little PTSD.
The patients who are sicker and more intolerant of the technology, they tend to come out weak, forgetful, confused, deconditioned, maybe not even able to get out of bed. Sometimes, in spite of our best efforts, they'll have skin wounds.
Some of these patients have significant lung fibrosis ― scarring of the lungs and reduced lung function. This might be a short-term part of their recovery or it could be long-term.
Q: Are there special considerations for older adults?
Older adults tend to have more preexisting illnesses that put them at more risk for complications. Their immune system is less robust. They're more prone to secondary infections such as pneumonia in spite of everything we do to prevent that.
Frailty is an important factor as well. If you come in frail and weak, you have less reserve to fight this through.
Q: When are people ready to be discharged?
You can go home on supplemental oxygen if you still need that kind of assistance. But you need to be able to feed yourself and move around or, if you have more disability, have someone to provide that for you.
Some people spend a couple of weeks in the ICU, then two to three days on a medical/surgical ward. Other people take another week or two to regain some strength. Some will go to an acute rehabilitation facility to get rehab three times a day. Others can go to a skilled nursing facility, where they'll get rehab over a couple of months and then go home.
Q:Who's unlikely to recover?
That we just don't know yet. When we sit down after all this and look at everything afterwards, we can pull up those patterns.
In the ideal world, I wish I could predict who would do well and who wouldn't, so I could talk to them and their family and have an honest conversation.
Q: Are other factors complicating recovery?
With such a high number of sick people, it's harder to do things to maximize recovery, such as bringing in physical therapy and occupational therapy. People aren't able to get as much therapy because there are only so many therapists and some hospitals are limiting who can come in.
COVID-19 is really a nasty disease because of its infectiousness. It isolates people from a lot of things they need to get better — perhaps, most importantly, their family, whose support is really critical along with all the other things I've talked about here.
CMS says the decision will allow insurers and the agency to "focus on patient care," and will last "until after the public health emergency has ended."
This article was first published on Wednesday, April 8, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
Federal health officials, citing a need to focus on the COVID-19 pandemic, have temporarily halted some efforts to recover hundreds of millions of dollars in overpayments made to Medicare Advantage health plans.
The Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services says the decision will allow insurers and the agency to "focus on patient care," and will last "until after the public health emergency has ended."
Critics aren't convinced that's a wise idea.
"Some loosening of regulations during a crisis is necessary. But is this an abdication of oversight?" asked David Lipschutz, associate director and a senior policy attorney with the Center for Medicare Advocacy. "This is a serious concern we will have to grapple with at some point."
Medicare Advantage plans are offered by private health insurers under contracts with Medicare. They treat more than 24 million Americans, most of them seniors at a relatively high risk of serious health complications from the pandemic.
The added costs these health plans will shoulder as a result remains unclear. Several plans have announced they will waive copayments for COVID-19 testing and care. In an April 3 letter to CMS Administrator Seema Verma, the industry advocacy group Better Medicare Alliance asked the agency to "monitor the unanticipated costs incurred as a result of the COVID-19 crisis, and work with Congress to put in place appropriate financial protections, such as excess loss protection for Medicare Advantage."
CMS on Monday announced a 1.66% rate increase for the plans in 2021.
The trade group applauded CMS' decision to relax auditing and other paperwork requirements. The CMS audits are designed to curb overcharging by Medicare Advantage plans, to which the government pays more than $200 billion a year. The audits are years behind schedule, largely because of industry opposition.
In July 2019, Kaiser Health News reported that the government had overpaid Medicare Advantage plans by nearly $30 billion in the past three years alone. In addition, as many as 20 whistleblower lawsuits ― the most recent filedlate last month by the Justice Department against industry giant Anthem — have accused health plans of ripping off Medicare by exaggerating how sick their patients were.
The coronavirus emergency puts a unique strain on Medicare Advantage plans. Unlike standard Medicare, which pays medical providers for each service they render, Medicare Advantage plans are paid based on the health of members. That means they receive higher rates for sicker patients and less for those in robust health.
The insurers assess the health status of each member through face-to-face medical visits, which have been sharply curtailed by the crisis. The industry also argues that during the COVID-19 emergency, health plans and their doctors have little time to process paperwork.
"There's a recognition that providers need to be focused on treating the epidemic," said Thomas Kornfield, a senior consultant with the health care consulting firm Avalere Health and a former CMS official. Asking doctors and insurers to prepare medical records for review "when they face an unprecedented situation is not a good idea," he said.
Still, concerns that some plans overcharge Medicare have been raised for years. In December, the Health and Human Services inspector general linkedalleged schemes to $6.7 billion in questionable payments during 2017.
The March 26 Justice Department civil case accuses Anthem, whose holdings include several large Blue Cross Blue Shield plans, of illegally billing Medicare for diseases that were not supported by medical records. Anthem received more than $112 million in improper payments for 2015, according to the government.
Anthem denied wrongdoing. "We are confident that our health plans and associates have complied with Medicare Advantage regulations," the company said in a statement.
The whistleblower cases have emerged as a primary tool for holding health plans accountable largely because the CMS audit program has foundered amid fierce protests from the industry. The industry argues the audits, called risk adjustment data validation, or RADV, are flawed and the results unreliable.
The controversy has resulted in long delays in conducting audits and recouping overpayments. CMS officials say they have yet to complete audits for 2011, 2012 and 2013.
That's years behind schedule. CMS officials had expected to finish the 2011 audits by the end of 2016, for instance. (KHN is suing CMS under the Freedom of Information Act to compel public release of the audit findings. The case is pending in federal court in San Francisco.)
CMS said it would continue reviewing some audit materials but suspend the collection of records for reviews of 2015 payments and beyond until "the public health emergency has ended."
The CMS action also temporarily waives the collection of some data the government uses to rate the quality of health plans and patient satisfaction with them. Medicare uses this information to rate the health plans from one to five stars.
"CMS is committed to allowing health plans, providers, and physician offices to focus on caring for Medicare beneficiaries during this public health emergency and not put staff at health plans at risk by requiring travel or collection of data in offices that are overwhelmed by patients needing care," the agency said.
CMS said it is "reprioritizing" its enforcement of regulations to focus on problems that could pose a danger to patients, such as "lack of access to critically needed health services or prescription drugs" and "complaints alleging infection control concerns, including COVID-19 or other respiratory illnesses."
The folding chairs outside the windows appeared late last month, after the maintenance staff at St. James Parish Hospital labeled each window with a patient room number so families and friends could at least see their loved ones battling COVID-19.
Yet even this small solace the Louisiana rural hospital can offer is tainted for clinical nurse educator Leslie Fisher. She has to remind the family members to take shifts to properly social distance from one another — even when their loved ones could be in their final moments.
The difficult conversations feel unceasingly cruel, she said, but she feels she has an obligation to protect these people, too. All she can do is look them in the eyes and say, "I'm so, so sorry."
This is the new normal for St. James Parish Hospital, a 25-bed rural hospital about 45 minutes from pandemic hot spot New Orleans. Its county — or parish, as they're called in Louisiana — of 22,000 residents had confirmed more than 175 cases and six deaths as of Tuesday. That earns it the horror of being one of the hardest-hit counties nationwide for cases per capita, placing its rural hospital that sits just blocks off the east bank of the Mississippi River onto the front lines with a continuous swell of patients.
Previously battered by hurricanes and a flood, the hospital is used to more than its fair share of disasters. But, in the aftermath, they have historically been able to rally help from around the country, CEO Mary Ellen Pratt said by phone.
Now, communities nationwide must fight their own battles, leaving St. James Parish Hospital to make do with limited staffing, testing, personal protective equipment and mechanical gear. Although working with limited resources is something rural hospitals know how to do, Pratt said, this is something entirely different.
Before the pandemic, the hospital housed about eight inpatients a day. Almost overnight, it's up to 20 inpatients some days, the majority of them with suspected COVID-19. Dozens of positive cases, with many more feared, have passed through its doors.
To add to the challenge of the crush, the patients' conditions are more severe than those of typical patients, especially for a hospital without an official intensive care unit.
Although the hospital has had two ventilators the staff can use before transferring patients to more advanced facilities, the wait times to transfer patients to other hospitals continue to lengthen. Pratt said she is dismayed at how often she's had to use the ventilators so far.
"We're intubating every single day, several patients a day, when we maybe do it on a monthly basis," she said. "It's crazy."
The hospital is planning to bring five more ventilators online in the next few days — three are rentals, one is a converted anesthesia machine, and a staff member drove six hours round trip to pick up one from another rural Louisiana hospital.
The bigger hospitals 45 minutes away continue to be packed with their own COVID-19 patients. If those hospitals begin to deny transfer requests, Pratt and her staff may be forced to make unthinkable decisions about rationing care.
Fisher can hardly speak of the possibility.
"My biggest fear and the fear of the entire hospital is that we're going to have to end up choosing who we are going to ventilate," she said. "I want to ventilate everyone. I want everyone to live."
An Onslaught of Patients
Community member Maitland John Faucheux III — who goes by "Spuddy" — didn't think there was much to this whole coronavirus thing at the beginning of March, which feels like an eternity ago now to him. The 62-year-old owner of Spuddy's Cajun Cooking, which is about 18 minutes from the hospital, said that in retrospect he was a bit hardheaded about the whole thing.
But then the Rev. Leon Franklin, a 60-year-old Baptist pastor in St. James and a "jolly" customer for years, died at St. James Parish Hospital of COVID-19 in mid-March.
"When it starts getting into your local hospital, it becomes real," Faucheux said.
The hospital, on the other hand, had been preparing since January. As soon as it had its first suspected case, a patient who arrived on March 13, it activated its emergency operations. As more people of all ages came in complaining of a fever, cough and respiratory symptoms, Pratt ratcheted down the hospital's five entrances to three. Anyone who enters now is checked for fever. Hospital staff also redesigned the internal layout to offer more separation from COVID-19 cases.
Elective surgeries, therapies, tests and labs — which provided about 80% of the hospital's revenue — were canceled. Pratt said she's been too busy dealing with the crush of patients to even think about the implications for the hospital's bottom line. That's a real concern because even before the virus struck, many rural hospitals nationwide limped along financially, with more than 120 closingin the past decade.
Typical days in the emergency room start by triaging suspected coronavirus patients by measuring the oxygen saturation of their blood, the hospital's emergency room medical director Dr. Will Freeman said. For those patients in better shape, hospital staff must spend a fair amount of time convincing them it's safer to be at home.
Top of mind is how to manage the diminishing amounts of personal protective equipment: Nurses are each given one N95 mask a day and put a protective mask on top of it.
Testing has been another frustration.
"We're still limited," Freeman said. "Not every person is getting tested, for darned sure."
Freeman urged other rural hospitals nationwide to start planning today.
"If you're one of the fortunate areas that doesn't have many cases — that doesn't think it's coming — it's going to come," he said. "One day, it's going to be there."
The Underlying Fear
The surrounding community has stepped up — sewing cloth mask protectors and making a big sign outside the hospital that says "HEROES WORK HERE." Using Facebook, a resident raised thousands of dollars to buy the staff food and snacks.
But the personal toll and sacrifice have been heavy for staff. They're working all hours of the day, in enhanced roles — techs who normally assist with surgery are working as aides in the COVID-19 unit, Pratt said. Employees are being repurposed to clean rooms for infection control.
Fisher's face is another marker — she has a bandage across her nose from the constant digging of her goggles into her skin.
Every day, it seems, someone else's family member or a member of the community needs treatment, Freeman said.
"We take care of all of our patients like they're our family, because they are our family," he said.
Which is one of the staff's greatest concerns: what they're bringing home. Fisher sent her kids, ages 7 and 11, away to her parents' house and now FaceTimes her girls each night, which she said is incredibly difficult.
"My child asked me the other day why am I a nurse," she said. "And my answer was God called me to be one."
Laurie Webb, the hospital's cardiopulmonary director and a registered respiratory therapist, started sobbing when talking about her own 4-year-old and 9-month-old. She isn't able to send them away because of their ages. Her nightly routine involves stripping naked in front of her patio — "it's pretty humiliating" — putting her clothes in a bag, Lysol-ing her shoes and heading straight for the bathroom.
"I'm completely terrified of what I'm bringing to my children and husband, but I can't stay away from my family," she said through tears.
As of Tuesday, 16 of the hospital's more than 200 employees had tested positive for the coronavirus.
During one call with KHN, Pratt, the CEO, coughed.
"I am feeling OK," she said. "I'm just tired."
On her mind, always, is what happens if more and more and more patients keep coming — and the hospital runs out of ventilators.
"I can't imagine. I don't want to think about it," she said. "I pray that we don't get there."
This article was first published on Tuesday, April 7, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
The federal government has encouragedhealth centers to delay nonessential surgeries while weighing the severity of patients' conditions and the availability of personal protective equipment, beds and staffing at hospitals.
People with cancer are among those at high risk of complications if infected with the new coronavirus. It'sestimated 1.8 million people will be diagnosed with cancer in the U.S. this year. More than 600,000 people are receiving chemotherapy.
That means millions of Americans may be navigating unforeseen challenges to getting care.
Christine Rayburn in Olympia, Washington, was diagnosed with breast cancer in mid-February. The new coronavirus was in the news, but the 48-year-old did not imagine the outbreak would affect her. Her doctor said Rayburn needed to start treatment immediately. The cancer had already spread to her lymph nodes.
"The cancer tumor seemed to have attached itself to a nerve," said Rayburn, who was a schoolteacher for many years. "I feel pain from it on a regular basis."
After getting her diagnosis and the treatment plan from her medical team, Rayburn was focused on getting surgery as fast as possible.
Meanwhile, the coronavirus outbreak was getting worse, and Seattle, just an hour north of where Rayburn lives, had become a national focal point.
Rayburn's husband, David Forsberg, began to get a little nervous about whether his wife's procedure would go forward as planned.
"It did cross my mind," he said. "But I did not want to bother with that possibility on top of everything else."
Two days before Rayburn's lumpectomy to remove the tumor, Forsberg said, the surgeon phoned, "pretty livid" with bad news. "She said, 'Look, they've canceled it indefinitely,'" Forsberg remembered.
The procedure had been scheduled at Providence St. Peter Hospital in Olympia, a facility run by Providence Health & Services. Across Washington, hospitals were calling off elective surgeries, in order to conserve the limited supply of personal protective equipment, or PPE, and to prevent patients and staffers from unnecessary exposure to the new coronavirus.
"It just felt like one of those really bad movies, and I was being sacrificed," Rayburn said.
"It was like we just got cut off from the experts we were relying on," her husband said.
The hospital said it would review the decision in a few weeks. But Rayburn's surgeon said that was too long to wait, and they needed to move to Plan B, which was to begin chemotherapy.
Originally, chemotherapy was supposed to happen after Rayburn's tumor surgery. And rearranging the treatment plan wasn't ideal because chemotherapy isn't shown to significantly shrink tumors in Rayburn's type of breast cancer.
Still, chemotherapy could help stop the cancer from spreading further. But as the couple figured out the new treatment plan, they ran into more obstacles.
"She needed an echocardiogram, except they had canceled all echocardiograms," said Forsberg.
They spent days on the phone trying to get all the pieces in place so she could start chemotherapy. Rayburn also started writing to her local lawmakers about her predicament.
Hospitals Prioritize Urgent Cases
In mid-March, Washington Gov. Jay Inslee bannedmost elective procedures, but he did carve out exceptions for certain urgent, life-threatening situations.
"It actually said that it [the ban] excluded removing cancerous tumors," Rayburn said.
Providence hospitals use algorithms and a team of physicians to figure out which surgeries can be delayed, said Elaine Couture, chief executive of Providence Health in the Washington-Montana region.
"There are no perfect decisions at all in any of this," said Couture. "None."
Couture would not talk about specific patients but said she assumes other cases were more urgent than Rayburn's.
"Were there other patients that even had more aggressive types of cancer that were [surgically] completed?" Couture said. "As sick as you are, there can be other people that are needing something even sooner than you do."
Couture said hospitals are burning through supplies of masks, gowns and gloves and need to make tough calls about elective procedures.
"I don't like that, either, and it's not the way that we want our health care system to work," Couture said.
Across the Providence hospital system, personal protective equipment is being used much faster than it can be replenished, she said.
No Single Standard
At the American Cancer Society, Deputy Chief Medical Officer Dr. Len Lichtenfeld is hearing from patients across the country who are having their chemotherapy delayed or surgery canceled.
"There was someone who had a brain tumor who was told they would not be able to have surgery, which was, basically, and appears to be a death sentence for that patient," said Lichtenfeld.
This is uncharted territory for cancer care, he said. Hospitals are making these "decisions on the fly" in response to how the pandemic looks in a particular community. "There is no single national standard that can be applied. I am afraid this is going to become much more common in the coming weeks."
The cancer societyrecommends that people postpone their routine cancer screenings — for now.
The American College of Surgeons has published guidanceon how to triage surgical care for cancer patients. But Lichtenfeld said every decision ultimately depends on the availability of resources at the hospital and the pressures of COVID-19. In Washington state, which has been hit hard, hospitals are shifting surgical space and beds away from other kinds of treatment.
"We need to forecast two to three weeks down the line when there are more patients that are ill," said Dr. Steven Pergam, medical director of infection prevention at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance. "We need to make sure there's adequate bed capacity."
Pergam said the care alliance is adjusting treatment plans and, at times, avoiding procedures that would keep cancer patients in the hospital for a prolonged period.
"It really depends on the cancer and the aggressive nature of it," he said. "We have looked at giving chemotherapy in the outpatient department and changing the particular regimens people get to make them less toxic."
But Pergam said they expect to keep doing urgent surgeries for cancer patients, even as the pandemic grows worse.
Christine Rayburn in Olympia was steeling herself for the months of chemotherapy to come: staying inside her home and even avoiding contact with her adult daughters, to avoid any possible exposure to the coronavirus.
Then, two weeks ago, the surgeon called again. She had persuaded the hospital to allow the surgery after all, 10 days later than initially planned.
Rayburn and her husband wonder what would have happened if they hadn't spoken up or pushed to get her lumpectomy back on the hospital's surgical schedule. Forsberg said it's possible they could have ended up without the care Rayburn needed.
"If we didn't say anything, in my mind that may be where we would be at," he said. "But in our minds, that was not an option."
This story is part of a partnership betweenNPR and Kaiser Health News.
The new coronavirus doesn't discriminate. But physicians in public health and on the front lines said they already can see the emergence of familiar patterns of racial and economic bias in the response to the pandemic.
In one analysis, it appears doctors may be less likely to refer African Americans for testing when they show up for care with signs of infection.
The biotech data firm Rubix Life Sciences, based in Lawrence, Massachusetts, reviewed recent billing information in several states and found that an African American with symptoms like cough and fever was less likely to be given one of the scarce coronavirus tests.
Delays in diagnosis and treatment can be harmful, especially for racial or ethnic minority groups that have higher rates of certain diseases, such as diabetes, high blood pressure and kidney disease. Those chronic illnesses can lead to more severe cases of COVID-19.
In Nashville, three drive-thru testing centers sat empty for weeks because the city couldn't acquire the necessary testing equipment and protective gear like gloves and masks. All of them are in diverse neighborhoods. One is on the campus of Meharry Medical College — a historically black institution.
"There's no doubt that some institutions have the resources and clout to maybe get these materials faster and easier," said Dr. James Hildreth, president of Meharry and an infectious disease specialist.
His school is in the heart of Nashville, where there were no screening centers until this week.
Most of the testing in the region took place at walk-in clinics managed by Vanderbilt University Medical Center, and those are primarily located in historically white areas like Belle Meade and Brentwood, Tennessee.
Hildreth said he has observed no overt bias on the part of health care workers and doesn't suspect any. But he said the distribution of testing sites shows a disparity in access to medical care that has long persisted.
'I Pray I'm Wrong'
If anyone should be prioritized, Hildreth said, it's minorities, whose communities already have more risk factors like diabetes and lung disease.
"We cannot afford to not have the resources to be distributed where they need to be," he said. "Otherwise, the virus will do great harm in some communities and less in others."
Data from late March show the location of coronavirus testing sites in Shelby County, Tennessee. It reveals that most screening is happening in the predominantly white and well-off Memphis suburbs, not the majority-black, lower-income neighborhoods.
The Rev. Earle Fisher has been warning his African American congregationthat the response to the pandemic may fall along the city's usual divides.
"I pray I'm wrong," Fisher said. "I think we're about to witness an inequitable distribution of the medical resources, too."
Around the nation, leaders are taking note of disproportionate health outcomes. In Wisconsin, African Americans accounted for all of Milwaukee County's first eight fatalities.
Gov. Tony Evers said he wants to know why black communities seem to be hit so hard. "It's a crisis within a crisis," the Democrat said in a video statement.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is also on the ground on the north side of Milwaukee, as well as several other hot spots, looking into the outbreak in black neighborhoods.
Nationwide, it's difficult to know how minority populations are faring because the CDC isn't reporting data on race.
A few states are releasing more demographic data, but it's incomplete. Virginia is reporting race, yet the state's report is missing that information for two-thirds of confirmed cases.
Dr. Georges Benjamin, executive director of the American Public Health Association, has been pushing health officials to start monitoring race and income in the response to COVID-19.
"We want people to collect the data in an organized, professional, scientific manner and show who's getting it [appropriate care] and who's not getting it," Benjamin said. "Recognize that we very well may see these health inequities."
The Usual Disparities
Until he's convinced otherwise, Benjamin said he assumes the usual disparities are at play.
"Experience has taught all of us that if you're poor, if you're of color, you're going to get services second," he said.
The subjectivity of coronavirus symptoms is what worries Dr. Ebony Hilton the most.
"The person comes in, they're complaining of chest pain, they're complaining of shortness of breath, they have a cough — I can't quantify that," she said.
Hilton is an anesthesiologist at the University of Virginia Medical Center who has been raising concerns. She sees problems across the board, from the way social media is being used as a primary way of educating the public to the widespread reliance on drive-thru testing.
The first requires an internet connection. The second, a car.
Hilton said the country can't afford to overlook race, even during a swiftly moving pandemic.
"If you don't get a test, if you die, you're not going to be listed as dying from COVID," she said. "You're just going to be dead."
This story is part of a partnership that includes Nashville Public Radio, NPR and Kaiser Health News.
An initial study found cardiac damage in as many as 1 in 5 patients, leading to heart failure and death even among those who show no signs of respiratory distress.
This article was first published on Monday, April 6, 2020 inKaiser Health News.
While the focus of the COVID-19 pandemic has been on respiratory problems and securing enough ventilators, doctors on the front lines are grappling with a new medical mystery.
In addition to lung damage, many COVID-19 patients are also developing heart problems — and dying of cardiac arrest.
As more data comes in from China and Italy, as well as Washington state and New York, more cardiac experts are coming to believe the COVID-19 virus can infect the heart muscle. An initial study found cardiac damage in as many as 1 in 5 patients, leading to heart failure and death even among those who show no signs of respiratory distress.
That could change the way doctors and hospitals need to think about patients, particularly in the early stages of illness. It also could open up a second front in the battle against the COVID-19 pandemic, with a need for new precautions in people with preexisting heart problems, new demands for equipment and, ultimately, new treatment plans for damaged hearts among those who survive.
"It's extremely important to answer the question: Is their heart being affected by the virus and can we do something about it?" said Dr. Ulrich Jorde, the head of heart failure, cardiac transplantation and mechanical circulatory support for the Montefiore Health System in New York City. "This may save many lives in the end."
Virus Or Illness?
The question of whether the emerging heart problems are caused by the virus itself or are a byproduct of the body's reaction to it has become one of the critical unknowns facing doctors as they race to understand the novel illness. Determining how the virus affects the heart is difficult, in part, because severe illness alone can influence heart health.
"Someone who's dying from a bad pneumonia will ultimately die because the heart stops," said Dr. Robert Bonow, a professor of cardiology at the Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine and editor of the medical journal JAMA Cardiology. "You can't get enough oxygen into your system and things go haywire."
But Bonow and many other cardiac specialists believe a COVID-19 infection could lead to damage to the heart in four or five ways. Some patients, they say, might be affected by more than one of those pathways at once.
Doctors have long known that any serious medical event, even something as straightforward as hip surgery, can create enough stress to damage the heart. Moreover, a condition like pneumonia can cause widespread inflammation in the body. That, in turn, can lead to plaque in arteries becoming unstable, causing heart attacks. Inflammation can also cause a condition known as myocarditis, which can lead to the weakening of the heart muscle and, ultimately, heart failure.
But Bonow said the damage observed in COVID-19 patients could be from the virus directly infecting the heart muscle. Initial research suggests the coronavirus attaches to certain receptors in the lungs, and those same receptors are found in heart muscle as well.
Initial Data From China
In March, doctors from China published two studies that gave the first glimpse at how prevalent cardiac problems were among patients with COVID-19 illness. The larger of the two studies looked at 416 hospitalized patients. The researchers found that 19% showed signs of heart damage.And those who did were significantly more likely to die: 51% of those with heart damage died versus 4.5% who did not have it.
Patients who had heart disease before their coronavirus infections were much more likely to show heart damage afterward. But some patients with no previous heart disease also showed signs of cardiac damage. In fact, patients with no preexisting heart conditions who incurred heart damage during their infection were more likely to die than patients with previous heart disease but no COVID-19-induced cardiac damage.
It's unclear why some patients experience more cardiac effects than others. Bonow said that could be due to a genetic predisposition or it could be because they're exposed to higher viral loads.
Those uncertainties underscore the need for closer monitoring of cardiac markers in COVID-19 patients, Jorde said. If doctors in New York, Washington state and other hot spots can start to tease out how the virus is affecting the heart, they may be able to provide a risk score or other guidance to help clinicians manage COVID-19 patients in other parts of the country.
"We have to assume, maybe, that the virus affects the heart directly," Jorde said. "But it's essential to find out."
Facing Obstacles
Gathering the data to do so amid the crisis, however, can be difficult. Ideally, doctors would take biopsies of the heart to determine whether the heart muscle is infected with the virus.
But COVID-19 patients are often so sick it's difficult for them to undergo invasive procedures. And more testing could expose additional health care workers to the virus. Many hospitals aren't using electrocardiograms on patients in isolation to avoid bringing additional staff into the room and using up limited masks or other protective equipment.
Still, Dr. Sahil Parikh, an interventional cardiologist at Columbia University Irving Medical Center in New York City, said hospitals are making a concerted effort to order the tests needed and to enter findings in medical records so they can sort out what's going on with the heart.
"We all recognize that because we're at the leading edge, for better or for worse, we need to try to compile information and use it to help advance the field," he said.
Indeed, despite the surge in patients, doctors continue to gather data, compile trends and publish their findings in near real time. Parikh and several colleagues recently penned a compilationof what's known about cardiac complications of COVID-19, making the article available online immediately and adding new findings before the article comes out in print.
Cardiologists in New York, New Jersey and Connecticut are sharing the latest COVID-19 information through a WhatsApp group that has at least 150 members. And even as New York hospitals are operating under crisis conditions, doctors are testing new drugs and treatments in clinical trials to ensure that what they have learned about the coronavirus can be shared elsewhere with scientific validity.
That work has already resulted in changes in the way hospitals deal with the cardiac implications of COVID-19. Doctors have found that the infection can mimic a heart attack. They have taken patients to the cardiac catheterization lab to clear a suspected blockage, only to find the patient wasn't really experiencing a heart attack but had COVID-19.
For years, hospitals have rushed suspected heart attack patients directly to the catheterization lab, bypassing the emergency room, in an effort to shorten the time from when the patient enters the door to when doctors can clear the blockage with a balloon. Door-to-balloon time had become an important measure of how well hospitals treat heart attacks.
"We're taking a step back from that now and thinking about having patients brought to the emergency department so they can get evaluated briefly, so that we could determine: Is this somebody who's really at high risk for COVID-19?" Parikh said. "And is this manifestation that we're calling a heart attack really a heart attack?"
New protocols now include bringing in a cardiologist and getting an EKG or an ultrasound to confirm a blockage.
"We're doing that in large measure to protect the patient from what would be an otherwise unnecessary procedure," Parikh said, "But also to help us decide which sort of level of personal protective equipment we would employ in the cath lab."
Sorting out how the virus affects the heart should help doctors determine which therapies to pursue to keep patients alive.
Jorde said that after COVID-19 patients recover, they could have long-term effects from such heart damage. But, he said, treatments exist for various forms of heart damage that should be effective once the viral infection has cleared.
Still, that could require another wave of widespread health care demands after the pandemic has calmed.
As city leaders across the country scramble to find space for the expected surge of COVID-19 patients, some are looking at a seemingly obvious choice: former hospital buildings, sitting empty, right downtown.
This article was first published on Thursday, April 2, 2020 in Kaiser Health News.
As city leaders across the country scramble to find space for the expected surge of COVID-19 patients, some are looking at a seemingly obvious choice: former hospital buildings, sitting empty, right downtown.
In Philadelphia, New Orleans, and Los Angeles, where hospitalizations from COVID-19 increase each day, shuttered hospitals that once served the city's poor and uninsured sit at the center of a public health crisis that begs for exactly what they can offer: more space. But reopening closed hospitals, even in a public health emergency, is difficult.
Philadelphia, the largest city in America with no public hospital, is also thepoorest. There, Hahnemann University Hospital shut its doors in September after its owner, Philadelphia Academic Health System, declared bankruptcy. While not public, the 496-bed safety-net hospital mainly treated patients on public insurance. Philadelphia Mayor Jim Kenney began talks with the building's owner, California-based investment banker Joel Freedman, as soon as his administration saw projections that the demand for hospital beds during the pandemic would outpace the city's capacity. Not long after negotiations started, city officials announced the talks were going badly.
"Mr. Freedman was difficult to work with at times when he was the owner of the hospital, and he is still difficult to work with as the owner of the shuttered hospital," said Brian Abernathy, who is Philadelphia's managing director and heading the city's COVID-19 response.
In New Orleans, where the soaring COVID-19 infection rate is disproportionately high compared with its population, Charity Hospital sits vacant in the middle of town. The former public hospital never reopened after Hurricane Katrina in 2005. The Louisiana State University System, which owns the building, incorporated Charity Hospital into the city's new medical center, but the original building remains vacant. Instead of using it during the pandemic, the New Orleans Convention Center is being convertedto a "step-down" facility with the capacity to treat up to 2,000 patients after they no longer need critical care.
Elsewhere, city governments have struck deals with the owners of empty hospital buildings to lease their space. At St. Vincent Medical Center in Los Angeles, the city is paying $236 per night per bed, for a total of $2.6 million each month.
In Philadelphia, Freedman offered the Hahnemann building to the city for $27 per bed per night, plus taxes, maintenance and insurance, which the city would pay directly. All told, that added up to just over $900,000 per month.
"I think he is looking at how to turn an asset that is earning no revenue into an asset that earns some revenue, and isn't thinking through what the impacts are on public health," Abernathy said of Freedman. "I think he's looking at this as a business transaction rather than providing an imminent and important aid to the city and our residents."
This isn't the first time Freedman has come under fire by Philadelphians for his handling of the hospital. Its closure sparked protests from city officials, health care unions, and even presidential hopeful Bernie Sanders. Critics speculated that Freedman, whose private equity firm bought the struggling hospital in 2018, didn't try in earnest to save it and planned to flip it for its valuable downtown real estate. Notably, Hahnemann's real estate was parsed out into a separate company, Broad Street Healthcare Properties, also owned by Freedman, and not included in Philadelphia Academic Health System's Chapter 11 bankruptcy petition.
A representative for Freedman said the building has an interested buyer, and that is one reason Broad Street Healthcare will not let the city use the building at cost.
"We're offering this facility because of the public benefit in a health crisis, but it comes at a cost to the property owner," said Broad Street representative Sam Singer.
As urban hospitals have struggled in recent years, it's become increasingly common for private equity to get involved: Big firms buy struggling medical centers with the promise of financial support and to improve their operations and business strategy. When things go right, the business succeeds, and the private equity firm sells it in a public offering or to another bidder for more than it paid.
In other cases, though, the firms load companies up with debt, take dividends out for themselves, sell off valuable real estate and charge fees and high-interest loans, leaving a company in a much weaker position than it would have been otherwise, and often on the verge of bankruptcy.
"The house never loses," said Eileen Appelbaum, co-director at the Center for Economic and Policy Research. "The private equity firm makes money whether the company succeeds or it doesn't."
For instance, Steward Health Care was able to expand from its base in Massachusetts to a 36-hospital network nationwide with backing from Cerberus Capital Management. Now, said Appelbaum, the chain of community hospitals is stuck paying rent to a separate real estate company, on all its properties, while also struggling to stay in the black. The network announced last weekit would furlough non-clinical workers across nine states because the requirement to cancel elective surgeries caused too great a financial strain.
Freedman's private equity firm is called Paladin Healthcare, and it has previously bought and managed hospitals in California and Washington, D.C., where it helped the struggling Howard University Hospital out of the red. Paladin then sold the hospital to Adventist HealthCare last summer.
Urban hospitals like Hahnemann have struggled to stay afloat in recent years, in part due to their lack of privately insured patients. Hospitals often finance the care of uninsured patients or those on Medicaid by treating those with private insurance, which reimburses the hospitals faster and at a higher rate. At Hahnemann, two-thirds of patients were on Medicaid or Medicare. While a financially struggling public or nonprofit hospital might continue serving a poorer community, a for-profit hospital has different incentives, said Vickie Williams, a former law professor for Gonzaga University.
"If your urban hospital is purchased by a for-profit company and it doesn't perform sufficiently, they don't have the same necessarily mission-driven directives to keep that hospital functioning for the good of the community at a loss," said Williams, who is now senior counsel for CommonSpirit Health in Tacoma, Washington.
Freedman has said that he tried to sell the Hahnemann property to a nonprofit and requested money from the city and state to keep it open, but neither option worked.
Following news that Philadelphia had abandoned negotiations with Freedman, calls to seize the property in order to save lives came pouring in, including from elected officials.
"Eminent Domain was created for situations like #Hahnemann," City Council member Helen Gym wrote on Twitter. "This is a public health emergency and Philly is the largest city in the nation WITHOUT a public hospital. We cannot allow unconscionable greed to get in the way of saving lives. Eminent domain this property." Legal experts say the lengthy process of eminent domain and the requirement to pay the owner fair market value for the building make it an unlikely mechanism for an instance like this.
But in public health emergencies, local, state and federal governments do have broad authority to commandeer private property, such as hotels, convention centers, university dormitories or even defunct hospitals for disaster response. Williams, whose research has focused on preserving hospital infrastructure during a pandemic, said that so far in the United States, that hasn't had to happen ― at least not in the traditional sense.
In Pennsylvania, the governor's emergency declaration gives him the authority to "commandeer or utilize any private, public or quasi-public property if necessary to cope with the disaster emergency." A health department representative said all options remain on the table in the event that the city's hospital bed capacity is overrun.
In the interim, the mayor made a deal with Temple University to use its basketball arena, which would have the capacity to treat 250 non-critical patients, at no cost to the city.
This story is part of a partnership that includes WHYY, NPR and Kaiser Health News.
[Correction: This article was revised at 5:30 p.m. ET on April 2, 2020, to clarify Steward Health Care's real estate situation.]