SAN DIEGO—When Mary Prehoden gets dressed for work every morning, her eyes lock on the bite-shaped scar on her chest.
It's a harsh reminder of one of the worst days of her life. Prehoden, a nurse supervisor at Scripps Mercy Hospital San Diego, was brutally attacked last year by a schizophrenic patient who was off his medication. He lunged at her, threw her to the ground, repeatedly punched and kicked her, and bit her so hard that his teeth broke the skin and left her bleeding.
The incident lasted about 90 seconds, but the damage lingers.
"Even if I didn't have a scar, the scar is in your head," said Prehoden, 58. "That stays with you for the rest of your life."
Violence against health care workers is common—and some say on the rise.
According to the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, workplace violence is four times more common in health care settings than in private industry on average, yet it still goes underreported. Patients account for about 80% of the serious violent incidents reported, but stressed-out family and friends also are culprits. Co-workers and students caused 6% of the incidents.
In a 2018 poll of about 3,500 emergency room doctors conducted for the American College of Emergency Physicians, nearly 70% said violence in the emergency department has increased in the past five years.
About 40% of the doctors believed the majority of assaults were committed by psychiatric patients, and half said the majority were committed by people seeking drugs or those under the influence of drugs or alcohol.
In California, a state law requires hospitals to adopt workplace violence prevention plans and report the number and types of attacks to the state. The state then compiles the data into annual reports.
In the first full report, 365 hospitals tallied 9,436 violent incidents during the 12-month period that ended Sept. 30, 2018, ranging from scratchings to stabbings. Workers were punched or slapped in one-third of the assaults and were bitten in 7% of cases.
"I don't know that you ever expect to have to defend yourself at your workplace," Prehoden said. "It's not anything you're prepared for."
Scripps Mercy Hospital officials have made a number of changes to help protect employees from what they refer to as an epidemic of violence. They've launched a "rapid response" team made up of staff members who try to defuse potentially violent situations. And the hospital has introduced a behavioral screening tool to help identify patients prone to violence. When patients get flagged, they must wear a green wristband, and a green peace sign is placed on their door.
Ryan Sommer, who is the head of security at Scripps Memorial Hospital Encinitas, leads violence de-escalation training for Scripps staff at different locations throughout San Diego County.
On one recent morning, about 20 employees at the Encinitas facility learned how to deter an agitated and combative patient. One tip Sommer shared: Behavior influences behavior, so listen with empathy and establish a personal rapport with the patient. And, he told them, don't lose your cool; the goal is to get agitated patients to calm down.
Sommer also taught self-defense tactics should the situation escalate. In groups of two, employees practiced how to disengage from a hold and block strikes from an attacker.
"How many of you have been attacked on the job?" Sommer asked. Nearly all the participants raised their hands.
"This happens daily. They get punched, scratched, spit on, yelled at," he said later.
Sommer said the number of violent incidents at the Scripps hospitals is rising and the injuries are becoming more severe.
Since earlier this year, security guards at all Scripps hospitals have been armed with stun guns, said Janice Collins, a spokeswoman for Scripps Health. They wear stab-proof vests and are stationed strategically around the facilities. The stun guns are used when security guards believe they are needed to protect life, Collins said. Prehoden's situation would have met that criteria, she said.
Hospitals across California are taking similar measures with the hope of reducing violent confrontations, said Gail Blanchard-Saiger, the California Hospital Association's vice president of labor and employment.
Some sites use panic buttons, metal detectors, security dogs, increased police presence and security cameras, in addition to de-escalation training.
The efforts vary by location and risk, Blanchard-Saiger said.
Additional support from local law enforcement would make a difference, she said. "Unfortunately, I've heard plenty of stories where they don't even come to the hospital," she said. "They're short-staffed, underfunded. They're prioritizing."
Prehoden has attended the de-escalation training and is now on the rapid response team at Scripps Mercy Hospital.
It took her three weeks to return to work after she was beaten in August 2018. A nurse for almost 40 years, she admits being a little on edge now, and feels as if her attacker robbed her of her confidence. He served six months in jail for the attack.
"This cannot be the new face of nursing," Prehoden said. "We can't afford to lose our staff because somebody decides not to take his medication."
Although CMS has earned praise for responding to errors identified by Plan Finder users, some people may have signed up for plans before the mistakes were caught.
Saturday is the deadline for most people with Medicare coverage to sign up for private drug and medical plans for next year. But members of Congress, health care advocates and insurance agents worry that enrollment decisions based on bad information from the government's revamped, error-prone Plan Finder website will bring unwelcome surprises.
Beneficiaries could be stuck in plans that cost too much and don't meet their medical needs—with no way out until 2021.
On Wednesday, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services told Kaiser Health News that beneficiaries would be able to change plans next year because of Plan Finder misinformation, although officials provided few details. And the Medicare.gov website and representatives at Medicare's call center had no information about that option.
The overhauled Plan Finder debuted at the end of August, and 2020 plan information was added in October. Over the past three months, Plan Finder problems reported to CMS by the National Association of Insurance Commissioners, the National Association of Health Underwriters, and state and national consumer advocates included inaccurate details about prices, covered drugs and dosages, and difficulty sorting and saving search results, among other things.
CMS made almost daily corrections and fixes to the website, which is the only tool that can compare dozens of private drug and medical plans―each with different pharmacy networks, covered drugs and drug prices. The website provides information for more than 60 million people with Medicare and their families, as well as state Medicare counselors and the representatives who answer the 800-MEDICARE help line.
In an unsigned blog article published on a Medicare website last week, officials said they're "not done improving the Plan Finder." And they promised "in the coming months we'll be scoping out additional improvements that we can implement based on lessons we learn this year."
Although CMS has earned praise for responding to errors identified by Plan Finder users, some people may have signed up for plans before the mistakes were caught―mistakes they may not notice until their coverage kicks in next year.
"Seniors should be able to choose the plans that work best for them," said Sen. Susan Collins (R-Maine), chairwoman of the Senate Special Committee on Aging. "Issues with Medicare's new Plan Finder website, however, have reportedly created confusion among beneficiaries as well as those assisting them." She added that she was concerned "this problem even occurred."
Medicare's response, Collins said, "must be vigorous with extensive outreach to inform seniors of special enrollment periods."
Sen. Bob Casey of Pennsylvania, the senior Democrat on that committee, also said Medicare needs to reach out so people know they can request a "special enrollment period" if they discover next year they made a wrong choice due to inaccurate Plan Finder information.
"People with Medicare must be aware that this reprieve exists and should not have to jump through hoops to qualify," he said. The administration should "use all means necessary" to let beneficiaries know about their options for a special enrollment period.
In the statement to KHN Wednesday, CMS said it provides special enrollment periods for a number of reasons. It added that beneficiaries can get a special enrollment period related to Plan Finder issues anytime next year.
They can "call 1-800-MEDICARE and explain to our call center representatives that they have an issue with their plan choice. It is not CMS's expectation that beneficiaries will have documentation or screenshots," the statement said. The call center representatives "are trained and ready to help the beneficiary through the rest of the process."
CMS officials refused to be identified but would not give a reason.
Information about Plan Finder special enrollment periods will be available on the Medicare.gov website and at the call center, a CMS spokesman said.
However, nothing was posted on the website Thursday, and when Kaiser Health News called Medicare twice Thursday, both representatives said it would not be possible to switch plans next year because of inaccurate information from the Plan Finder.
Applying for a special enrollment period could be tricky. In the blog post, Medicare officials said the information on the Plan Finder is "the most current and accurate information on premiums, deductibles and cost sharing that Medicare Advantage and Prescription Drug Plans provide." They noted that the "information changes frequently because plans regularly update drug formularies and renegotiate drug prices."
America's Health Insurance Plans, the trade group representing health insurers, "is not aware of any systematic problems with the Plan Finder, which is operated by CMS," said spokeswoman Cathryn Donaldson.
People who enroll in a private Medicare Advantage policy, an alternative to traditional government-run Medicare that covers both drugs and medical care, already have an alternative. They have until March 31 to change plans or enroll in traditional Medicare.
Collins and Casey are not the only members of Congress raising the issue. Sen. Sherrod Brown (D-Ohio) wants CMS to provide a special enrollment period in these cases and clearly communicate the details, a spokesman said.
Rep. Richard Neal (D-Mass.), who chairs the House Ways and Means Committee, believes Saturday's deadline should be extended, a committee aide said. The committee has heard about the Plan Finder's problems from numerous seniors' advocates and counselors from state health insurance assistance programs, as well as the insurance companies that sell coverage.
Since enrollment for 2020 coverage began Oct. 1, the National Association of Health Underwriters, which represents 100,000 insurance agents, has sent CMS officials 54 Plan Finder problems and is still receiving reports from agents, said John Greene, the vice president for congressional affairs.
The Medicare counselors at Nebraska's Senior Health Insurance Information Program flagged more than 100 issues as of mid-November, said Alicia Jones, the program's administrator.
After receiving complaints about the Plan Finder, Delaware's insurance commissioner, Trinidad Navarro, issued a consumer alert last week.
Tatiana Fassieux, education and training specialist at California Health Advocates, said her organization wants CMS to offer a blanket, nationwide special enrollment period instead of granting it case by case. The group helps train Medicare counselors for California's Health Insurance Counseling and Advocacy Program, known as HICAP.
Leslie Fried has been an elder law attorney in Washington, D.C., since 1985, so imagine her surprise when she was stumped last weekend helping her mother pick a policy through the Plan Finder.
Fried, who is also senior director of the Center for Benefits Access at the National Council on Aging, did the same search three times for the least expensive plans that cover her mother's drugs and came up with a different result each time.
"Beneficiaries should be able to have confidence in the Plan Finder after a single search," she said.
For assistance reviewing drug and medical plans, call your state's Senior Health Insurance Information Program at 877-839-2675 or the Medicare Rights Center at 800-333-4114.
The current complexity is an outgrowth of countless decisions over the past 30 years, many of which sounded logical at the time but which grew out of financial considerations.
This story, which ran as an opinion piece in The Boston Globe, was published December 6, 2019, by Kaiser Health News.
In this highly partisan political moment, there's one issue that nearly every American can agree on: Our health care system is a mess and in need of dramatic overhaul.
That's not just because it is absurdly expensive compared with the systems of other developed countries. It's also because it is so dauntingly complex.
That complexity, in large part, derives from the fact that the health care system has been driven significantly by profit, rather than by measures of health. Countless providers, companies, consultants and intermediaries are trying to get their piece of the $3.5 trillion pie that is U.S. health care. Nora Ephron said, "Everything is copy." In 21st-century U.S. health care, everything is revenue, and so everything is billed.
That has led to a maze-like system—with twists and turns and barriers and blind alleys and incomprehensible signposts—that ordinary people are expected to navigate.
We say American patients should be happy because our system gives consumers choices. We tell people that to benefit they just need to be smarter shoppers.
What we are really telling them is to perform the impossible.
How can they choose an insurance policy when there are endless permutations involving personal budget calculations and modeling that would defy a post-doc in economics? For each policy, there's an in-network deductible and an out-of-network deductible, overlapping for the family and each individual. There are copays and coinsurance (yes, they're different), as well as an annual maximum personal out-of-pocket outlay (which may not include some of the above).
Likewise, how to choose between a PPO and an HMO, especially when the PPO network may be—or may become—so narrow during the term of the policy that it affords little or no choice of doctors? Should patients pair an insurance plan with a tax-advantaged flexible spending account or health savings account—and how to understand the difference anyway?
I'm a medical doctor and have spent years as a journalist covering health care. But I am grateful that my company chooses my PPO health plan—not just because it's good, but also because it means I don't have to try to decide between hundreds of options when there is no good way to make a rational choice.
The system is rigged against patients—thanks largely to its opacity and complexity. Insurance plans list an array of covered services but then can refuse to pre-certify a prescribed treatment or decide it was not medically necessary and deny coverage after the fact. For example, a patient goes to the emergency room with chest pain, which turns out to be just a pulled muscle. So, in retrospect, it wasn't an emergency. Coverage denied!
Informed consent is regarded as a moral and legal obligation by physicians; for every procedure performed, doctors are required to tell patients the chance of success, potential side effects and problems. And yet when it comes to navigating our convoluted system, patients travel in the dark.
The current complexity is an outgrowth of countless decisions over the past 30 years, many of which sounded logical at the time but which grew out of financial considerations. All the players are effectively licensed to reach into our wallets when they can't get the money they want from one another.
As prices spiraled upward, insurers (backed by economists) imposed copayments and coinsurance so patients would have "skin in the game," to encourage them to use health care more sparingly, more wisely. But with prices in medicine now so high, the skin-in-the-game theory now means many patients live with debilitating symptoms, delay needed treatment or don't get treated at all.
In one study, 1 in 4 diabetics reported taking less insulin than prescribed because of costs. Another found that one-fifth of cardiac patients with "financial hardship" cut back on both food and medicines.
In a world where everything is billable (and nothing is under warranty), and when part of the system is found to be broken, the answer has often been to add another layer of complexity rather than to remedy the underlying flaw.
We've turned somersaults not to do what almost every other developed country has done: restrain charges by setting prices or by large-scale national negotiations. We hope that by structuring incentives for providers and patients—with PPOs, HMOs, HSAs, FSAs, coinsurance, copayments, pre-authorization, drug tiering, PBMs and more—the market will respond.
And it does, but often not with cheaper, simpler health care.
"Innovation" in our profit-oriented system is not just about developing lifesaving treatments, but also about inventing new ways to bill and new charges that don't exist elsewhere.
Consider this analysis from a report urging patients to consider changing Medicare drug plans to save money:
"The millions of patients with CVS Health's popular SilverScript drug plan will see a $2 decrease in their average monthly premium, from $31 in 2019 to $29 in 2020 …" That's good, right? Here's the catch: The plan will go from no deductible, in most areas in 2019, to a deductible of $215 to $435 in 2020.
So patients who feel like they're getting a good deal when they hear their premiums are going down will actually pay more.
Americans trying to be smart shoppers are understandably confused about navigating the open enrollment season, as they are doing currently. And just when they have figured it out for one year, they have to do it all over again. The odds of success are small.
Physicians say the law's constraints on what insurers now pay has given the companies an unfair advantage in negotiations with doctors, which is leading to major changes in the industry that may affect patients.
More than two years after California's surprise-billing law took effect, there's one thing on which consumer advocates, doctors and insurers all agree: The law has been effective at protecting many people from bills they might have been saddled with from doctors who aren't in their insurance network.
But the consensus stops there.
"In general, the law is working as intended," said Anthony Wright, executive director of Health Access California, a patient advocacy group that pushed for the measure, AB-72. "Patients are protected and the providers are getting paid."
Physicians beg to differ. They say the law's constraints on what insurers now pay has given the companies an unfair advantage in negotiations with doctors, which is leading to major changes in the industry that may affect patients.
Recent analyses by some researchers, however, cast doubt on some of the doctors' dire warnings.
"The problem is that AB-72 is creating imbalances in the health care marketplace that are decreasing access to care," said Dr. Antonio Hernandez Conte, an anesthesiologist whose specialty is among those most affected by the law.
The California law, which took effect in July 2017, protects consumers who use an in-network hospital or other facility from being hit with surprise bills when cared for by a doctor who has not contracted with their insurer. If that happens, consumers are responsible only for the copayment or other cost sharing that they would have owed if they had been seen by an in-network doctor.
Federal lawmakers are eyeing the California law as a possible model as they debate legislative proposals that would address surprise billing at the national level.
The California law applies to nonemergency services, since most state consumers were already protected for emergency care through an earlier court ruling.
It's not unusual for patients who visit a hospital or ambulatory surgical center that is covered by their insurance to encounter specialists who aren't, even in nonemergency situations.
For example, someone who has knee replacement surgery with an in-network surgeon at an in-network hospital may not realize that the anesthesiologist and assistant surgeon also scrubbing in on the operation are not.
Or a couple may be surprised to learn that the neonatologist caring for their baby in intensive care is outside their insurance network, even though the hospital where they gave birth is inside it. Diagnostic specialists like radiologists and pathologists whom patients rarely see may be out-of-network at an in-network hospital as well.
Under the California law, the doctor's payment from an insurer in those situations is based on either the average contracted rate for similar services in the area or 125% of what Medicare would have paid, whichever is greater.
In a California Medical Association online survey released last month ― in which 855 physician practices responded ― nearly 90% of the doctors said that the law allowed insurers to shrink physician networks, thus limiting patients' access to in-network doctors. Physicians blame the new law's reimbursement rates for surprise out-of-network care. The payment standard made insurers less inclined to negotiate payments and reduced doctors' bargaining power, the physicians say.
Those surveyed said they faced insurer payment rate cuts, refusal to renew their contracts and contract termination, among other problems.
This has led some physicians to try to gain leverage by consolidating practices, a move that can drive up health care costs significantly, the doctors warn.
The medical association did not respond to calls for comment on the survey.
Hernandez Conte, who chairs the legislative and practice affairs division of the California Society of Anesthesiologists, also pointed to data from the California Department of Managed Health Care showing that consumer complaints about access to care have risen from 415 in 2016 to 614 in 2018, a 48% jump.
Those complaints represent a minuscule number of consumers in the context of the more than 30 million Californians covered by commercial insurance or Medi-Cal, said Loren Adler, associate director at the University of Southern California-Brookings Schaeffer Initiative for Health Policy. Adler noted that there's no way to know if the complaints had anything to do with the surprise-billing law.
Hernandez Conte also pointed to a study published in August by the research firm Rand Corp. that he said showed the law is eroding doctors' leverage with insurers.
But that study ― a series of 28 interviews with doctors and others about their experiences in the first year after the law took effect ― wasn't definitive, said author Erin Duffy, an adjunct policy researcher at Rand and postdoctoral fellow at the Schaeffer Center for Health Policy and Economics at USC.
"It's more a reflection of what are some of the potential things we should look at down the road," she said.
Aside from individual examples of contracting problems cited by the physician group, researchers cite little evidence that patients are losing access to doctors who accept their insurance because of dwindling insurance networks.
The opposite appears to be true. USC-Brookings researchers published an analysis in September examining more than 17 million specialty claims by California physicians affected by the law. They found the share of services that specialty physicians delivered out-of-network at hospitals and ambulatory surgical centers declined by 17% after the law took effect.
When the law went into effect, there was a "precipitous" movement by affected physicians into insurance networks, said Adler, a co-author of the study.
Similarly, when the trade group America's Health Insurance Plans surveyed 11 large California health insurers about in-network providers during the two years after the law took effect, it found that the numbers grew or remained flat across specialties. There was a 16% increase in the number of in-network physicians overall, including a 26% rise in diagnostic radiologists and an 18% bump in anesthesiologists.
The plight of consumers who go to an in-network facility and, unbeknownst to them, receive treatment from out-of-network doctors has garnered plenty of attention in recent months.
In a typical scenario, the doctor charges the insurance company for services, then turns around and bills the patient for whatever amount the insurance company doesn't pay, a practice called balance billing. With no contract between the insurer and the doctor to set payment rates, the amounts billed by physicians are often higher than market rates, and the balance bills that patients face are many times higher than the regular copayment they would owe for in-network care.
Federal lawmakers are debating a number of measures that would address the issues at the federal level. The leading House and Senate bills would set minimum payment standards based on insurers' median in-network rate for a service for applicable out-of-network care, similar to the California law.
A federal law is key to broadening the surprise-billing protections provided by California's law, Wright said.
Since AB-72 was implemented, the Department of Managed Health Care hasn't taken any enforcement actions against physicians for balance-billing patients in nonemergency situations, according to agency spokeswoman Rachel Arrezola. It has pursued a handful of cases against doctors for out-of-network balance billing in emergency situations, however.
As doctors and patient advocates wrangle over AB-72, lawmakers are pressing new protections for consumers. A state law recently barred balance billing by air ambulance services.
Starting in January, California consumers who are airlifted by an out-of-network air ambulance won't be responsible for any more than their regular cost sharing for in-network providers.
Herman Ware got his seasonal flu shot while sitting at a small, wobbly table inside a mobile health clinic. The clinic-on-wheels is a large converted van, and on this day it was parked on a trash-strewn, dead-end street in downtown Atlanta where homeless residents congregate.
The van and Ware’s flu shot are part of a “street medicine” program designed to bring health care to people who haven’t been able to pay much attention to their medical needs. For those who struggle to find a hot meal or a place to sleep, health care can take a back seat.
As he anticipated the needle, Ware recalled previous shots and said, “It might sting.” He grimaced slightly as the nurse injected his upper arm.
After filling out paperwork, he climbed down the van’s steps and walked back to a small cluster of tents. Ware lives in the nearby homeless encampment tucked below an interstate overpass, next to a busy rail line.
Mercy Care, a health care nonprofit in Atlanta, operates brick-and-mortar clinics throughout the city that mainly treat poor residents. Since 2013, Mercy has also sent out teams of health care providers to treat homeless people.
It’s a public health strategy that can be found in dozens of cities in the United States and around the world, according to the Street Medicine Institute, which works to spread the practice.
Relationship Leads To Care
Getting homeless patients to accept help, whether it’s a vaccination or something simpler — like a bottle of water — can be challenging. And giving shots and conducting exams outside the walls of a health clinic often requires a different approach to health care.
“When we’re coming out here to talk to people, we’re on their turf,” said nurse practitioner Joy Fernandez de Narayan, who runs Mercy Care’s Street Medicine program.
“We’ll sit down next to someone, like, ‘Hey, how’s the weather treating you?'” she said.
“And then kind of work our way into, like, ‘Oh, you mentioned you had a history of high blood pressure. Do you mind if we check your blood pressure?'”
It can take several encounters to gain someone’s trust and get them to accept medical care, so the outreach workers spend a lot of time forging relationships with homeless clients.
Their persistent encouragement was helpful for Sopain Lawson, who caught a debilitating foot fungus while living in the encampment.
“I couldn’t walk,” Lawson said. “I had to stay off my feet. And the crew, they took good care of my foot. They got me back.”
“This is what street medicine is about — going out into these areas where people are not going to seek attention until it’s an emergency,” said Matthew Reed, who’s been doing social work with the team for two years.
“We’re trying to avoid emergencies, but we’re also trying to build relationships.”
‘Go To The People’
The street medicine team members use the trust they’ve built with patients to eventually connect them to other services, such as mental health counseling or housing.
Access to those services may not be readily available for many reasons, said Dr. Stephen Hwang, who studies health care and homelessness at St. Michael’s Hospital in Toronto.
Sometimes the obstacle — not having money for a bus ticket, for example — seems small, but is formidable.
“It may be difficult to get to a health care facility, and often there are challenges, especially in the U.S., where people [may not] have health insurance,” Hwang said.
Georgia is among a handful of states that have not expanded Medicaid to all low-income adults, which means many of its poorest residents don’t have access to the government-sponsored health care program.
But even when homeless people are able to get health coverage and make it to a hospital or clinic, they can run into other problems.
“There’s a lot of stigmatization of people who are experiencing homelessness,” Hwang said, “and so often these individuals will feel unwelcome when they do present to health care facilities.”
Street medicine programs are designed to break down those barriers, said Dr. Jim Withers.
He’s the medical director of the Street Medicine Institute and started making outreach visits to the homeless in 1992, when he worked at a clinic in Pittsburgh.
“Health care likes people to come to it on its terms,” Withers said, while the central tenet of street medicine is, “Go to the people.”
Help And Respect
Mercy Care in Atlanta spends about $900,000 a year on its street medicine program. In 2018, that sum paid for direct treatment for some 300 people, many of whom got services multiple times. Street clinics can help relieve the care burden of nearby hospitals, which Withers said don’t have a great track record in treating the homeless.
“We’re not dealing with them well,” Withers said, speaking about American health care in general. In traditional health settings, homeless patients do worse compared with other patients, he said.
Those extra days and clinical complications mean additional costs for hospitals. One estimate cited in a 2017 legislative report on homelessness suggested that more than $60 million in medical costs for Atlanta’s homeless population were passed on to taxpayers.
Mercy Care said its program makes homeless people less likely to show up in local emergency rooms and healthier when they do — which saves money.
It’s past sundown when the street medicine team rolls up to the day’s final stop: outside a church in Atlanta where the homeless often gather. A handful of people have settled down for the night on the sidewalk. Among them is Johnny Dunson, a frequent patient of the Street Medicine program.
Dunson said the Mercy Care staffers have a compassionate style that makes it easy to talk to them and ask for help.
“You gotta let someone know how you’re feeling,” Dunson said. “Understand me?
Sometimes it can be like behavior, mental health. It’s not just me. It’s a lot of people that need some kind of assistance to do what you’re supposed to be doing, and they do a wonderful job.”
Along with medical assistance, the staff at Mercy Care give patients doses of respect and dignity.
This story is part of a partnership that includes WABE, NPR and Kaiser Health News.
For nearly two decades, malfunctions and injuries linked to more than 100 medical devices were funneled into an FDA database that few patients, doctors or even FDA officials knew existed.
Lorraine Bonner felt as though she was the only one. The surgical staples used to seal her colon after surgery had leaked, she has alleged in a lawsuit, spurring additional surgeries and a long, difficult recovery.
And then, just over a year after the ordeal, she read a Kaiser Health News investigation that described worse cases. KHN revealed that the Food and Drug Administration had allowed stapler maker Covidien to quietly file tens of thousands of reports of stapler malfunctions into a then-hidden database.
Alarmed that others had been harmed and reports had been hidden, Bonner, a retired Oakland, Calif., doctor, decided to go forward with a lawsuit against the stapler maker.
"If the information had been out there, then maybe Covidien would have changed the design of the staplers and made them safer," she said, "and that would have obviated the problem in the first place."
Bonner's lawsuit is one example of how a vast cache of records that were released this summer are taking on a life of their own.
For almost 20 years, malfunctions and injuries linked to 108 medical devices, including dental implants and pacemaker leads, were funneled into an FDA database that few patients, doctors or even FDA officials knew existed.
In 2016, for example, Covidien reported 84 injuries or malfunctions in the public database known as MAUDE, while nearly 10,000 incidents flowed into the hidden database, KHN reported in March. A few MAUDE reports mentioned the existence of an "alternative summary reporting" program, but until this summer, the FDA made that internal data available only through the Freedom of Information process, which can take up to two years.
KHN's investigation prompted then-FDA commissioner Scott Gottlieb to pledge in a tweet to open the hidden data to the public. The agency released all 5.7 million records in June.
Since then, researchers, lawyers and the FDA's own officials have taken a closer look at the data to learn more about which devices malfunctioned, and how often.
Libbe Englander, the founder and CEO of Pharm3r, a medical data consulting firm, discovered that the devices in the hidden database were much riskier than other devices tracked by the FDA.
Her firm concluded that the hidden reports were "more likely to be associated with life-threatening devices and to contain potentially serious problems."
For example, just 10% of the devices tracked in the MAUDE database are implanted in the body. But 44% of those in the hidden data are lodged in a patient's body, including pacemakers and heart valves.
The Pharm3r report also found that the devices in the hidden data were more likely to be subject to a Class 1 recall, initiated when a device problem could cause serious injury or death. The report also underscored how vast the now-open data is ― accounting for about 40% of the total device-problem reports lodged with the FDA over the past two decades.
The once-hidden reports also figured into the ECRI Institute's annual list of health technology hazards, a list circulated to hospitals and health systems.
ECRI found that this year's No. 1 hazard was misuse of the surgical stapler ― which has been linked to 412 deaths, more than 11,000 serious injuries and nearly 100,000 malfunctions since 2011, according to the FDA.
"Most of these [stapler] reports had not previously been accessible to the public," the ECRI report notes. ECRI has advised doctors to have a backup plan in place in case a stapler malfunctions during surgery.
"If a hazard is getting a lot of attention, hospitals want to have a plan to address that," said Rob Schluth, a senior project officer with the institute.
Bonner says her long, difficult recovery after several surgeries kept her from tending to her garden for about a year. (Heidi de Marco/KHN)[/caption]
For Bonner, the problems with a surgical stapler became apparent just over a week after she had colon surgery in November 2017. Retired from a career as a hospital physician, she knew the steps to take toward recovery. But she felt nauseated all the time and could barely hold down water.
"I was trying to get up and walk," she said. "I was doing everything, but I just got worse and worse."
Doctors went in for a second surgery on Dec. 6 and found infected pus filling her abdomen. They routed her colon's contents to be collected outside her body. It took additional surgeries to restore her colon function and address hernias caused by the procedures.
Bonner's lawsuit alleges that a Covidien stapler caused her bowel leak and that the company, by not reporting malfunctions to the public database for years, "have hidden the true risks of using the device from surgeons and patients."
In court records filed in the ongoing case, Covidien denied all of Bonner's claims but did say that the FDA invited the company in 2001 to submit stapler malfunctions with quarterly "alternative summary" reports.
Medtronic spokesman John Jordan said the company does not have a comment on the pending legal case.
Other devices are under scrutiny. The once-hidden data showed more than 2 million problems with dental implants.
During an October FDA webinar on dental devices, an FDA official said her office was "taking a deeper dive and trying to identify lessons learned" from dental implant incidents.
Dr. Malvina Eydelman, of the Division of Dental Devices in the agency's device branch, acknowledged that the number of events was "very high" and said her team was trying to develop a plan to share information with the public.
Also under scrutiny are the textured breast implants made by Allergan. The company's Biocell implants, recalled in July, have been linked to 12 deaths and 481 of the 573 worldwide cases of "breast implant-associated" lymphoma, according to the FDA. Breast implant injuries and malfunctions accounted for nearly half a million reports in the hidden database, including implants that leaked, deflated or migrated.
Patients in Missouri, California, New York and Illinois have filed federal class action lawsuits against Allergan in recent weeks, each decrying the company's heavy use of the "alternative summary reporting" program to file injury reports ― which were analyzed by the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists.
A class action case filed in Florida notes FDA rules say that alternative summary reports cannot include severe or unexpected events, "yet it is believed that these incidents were kept hidden in ASRs," including at least one lymphoma case.
An ongoing federal securities lawsuit also alleges that Allergan used "inappropriately nonpublic" alternative summary reports, disregarding the "risk that some [lymphoma] cases would go undetected by the FDA."
Allergan has not yet responded to the class action cases or to calls for comment. It denied the "threadbare" allegation in the securities lawsuit, citing the KHN article, which "makes clear that the filing of ASRs was permissible and even encouraged by the FDA to reduce 'redundant paperwork.'"
While the FDA has ended the alternative summary reporting program, it opened the door for makers of more than 5,000 device types to file quarterly summaries of reported malfunctions. In each case, the device maker must file a public report to the MAUDE database noting how many reports were filed directly with the agency.
An FDA spokeswoman said the agency has stopped accepting summary reports of injuries cited in pelvic mesh lawsuits. The agency does continue to accept hundreds of death report summaries under a special exemption for devices tracked in a "registry" held by a specialty medical society.
"We are in the process of reviewing the effects of these changes and will continue working to improve the usability and transparency of information in the MAUDE database — whether that information was submitted as a summary or individual report," FDA spokeswoman Stephanie Caccomo said in an email.
The release has not been as informative as Madris Tomes had hoped, she said, given that the FDA did not disclose data on how the devices harmed patients. Tomes is a former FDA manager who runs the company Device Events, which analyzes FDA data.
For instance, she said a breast implant injury report might say there was a "biocompatibility" problem, but it's unclear what happened to the patient.
"Did it result in lymphoma or the patient needing a device replacement?" asked Tomes. "Without that outcome, we're still a little bit in the dark on what this data means."
When Kea Turner's 74-year-old grandmother checked into Virginia's Sentara Virginia Beach General Hospital with advanced lung cancer, she landed in the oncology unit where every patient was monitored by a bed alarm.
"Even if she would slightly roll over, it would go off," Turner said. Small movements ― such as reaching for a tissue ― would set off the alarm, as well. The beeping would go on for up to 10 minutes, Turner said, until a nurse arrived to shut it off.
Tens of thousands of alarms shriek, beep and buzz every day in every U.S. hospital. All sound urgent, but few require immediate attention or get it.
Intended to keep patients safe alerting nurses to potential problems, they also create a riot of disturbances for patients trying to heal and get some rest.
Nearly every machine in a hospital is now outfitted with an alarm ― infusion pumps, ventilators, bedside monitors tracking blood pressure, heart activity and a drop in oxygen in the blood. Even beds are alarmed to detect movement that might portend a fall. The glut of noise means that the medical staff is less likely to respond.
Alarms have ranked as one of the top 10 health technological hazards every year since 2007, according to the research firm ECRI Institute. That could mean staffs were too swamped with alarms to notice a patient in distress, or that the alarms were misconfigured. The Joint Commission, which accredits hospitals, warned the nation about the "frequent and persistent" problem of alarm safety in 2013. It now requires hospitals to create formal processes to tackle alarm system safety, but there is no national data on whether progress has been made in reducing the prevalence of false and unnecessary alarms.
The commission has estimated that of the thousands of alarms going off throughout a hospital every day, an estimated 85% to 99% do not require clinical intervention. Staff, facing widespread "alarm fatigue," can miss critical alerts, leading to patient deaths. Patients may get anxious about fluctuations in heart rate or blood pressure that are perfectly normal, the commission said.
And bed alarms, a recent arrival, can lead to immobility and dangerous loss of muscle mass when patients are terrified that any movement will set off the bleeps.
An 'Epidemic Of Immobility'
In the past 30 years, the number of medical devices that generate alarms has risen from about 10 to nearly 40, said Priyanka Shah, a senior project engineer at ECRI Institute. A breathing ventilator alone can emit 30 to 40 different noises, she said.
In addition to triggering bed alarms, patients who move in bed may set off false alarms from pulse oximeters, which measure the oxygen in a patient's blood, or carbon dioxide monitors, which measure the level of the gas in someone's breath, she said.
Shah said she has seen hospitals reduce unneeded alarms, but doing so is "a constant work in progress."
'Cry Wolf Phenomenon'
Maria Cvach, an alarm expert and director of policy management and integration for Johns Hopkins Health System, found that on one step-down unit (a level below intensive care) in the hospital in 2006, an average of 350 alarms went off per patient per day, from the cardiac monitor alone.
She said no international standard exists for what these alarms sound like, so they vary by manufacturer and device. "It's really impossible for the staff to identify by sound everything that they hear," she said.
The flood of alarms creates a "cry wolf phenomenon," Cvach said. The alarms are "constantly calling for help. The staff look at them. They say that's just a false alarm ― they may ignore the real alarm."
Bed alarms, for example, are meant to summon nurses so they can supervise patients to walk safely. But research has shown that the use of alarms doesn't prevent falls. Nursing staffs are often stretched thin and don't reach the bedside before a patient hits the ground.
Meanwhile, patients may feel immobilized at a time when even a few hundred steps per day could significantly improve their recovery. Immobility in the hospital can create other problems for patients, leaving them with often irreversible functional decline, research has shown.
Bed alarms have proliferated since 2008, when the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services declared hospital falls should "never" happen and stopped paying for injuries related to those falls. After that policy change, the odds of nurses using a bed alarm increased 2.3 times, according to a study led by Dr. Ronald Shorr, director of the Geriatric Research, Education and Clinical Center at the Malcom Randall Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Gainesville, Fla. The alarms have become a standard feature in new hospital beds.
But Shorr noted that, in contrast, bed alarms are being removed from other settings: In 2017, CMS began discouraging their widespread use in nursing homes, arguing that audible bed or chair alarms may be considered a "restraint" if the resident "is afraid to move to avoid setting off the alarm."
Barbara King, an associate professor at the University of Wisconsin at Madison School of Nursing, who has interviewed patients about their experience with bed alarms, said patients find them "very restrictive."
"They're loud. For some patients, it's frightening. They don't know where it's coming from. It's a source of irritation," she said. "For some patients, they won't move."
Seeking Solutions
Hospitals have turned to "clinical alarm management," bringing in consultants to figure out how many devices have alarms, which go off most frequently and which are the most important for nurses to respond to. Hospitals are also installing sophisticated software to analyze and prioritize the constant stream of alerts before relaying the information to staff members.
The U.S. market size for the management of clinical bed alarms, in hospitals and other settings, has grown from $21.4 million in 2016 to $37.4 million in 2018, according to an analysis by MarketsandMarkets. The firm projects the market size will quadruple to $155.5 million by 2023.
For ventilators, it estimates the U.S. market for clinical alarm management will quadruple from $19.9 million in 2018 to $80.2 million by 2023.
In Virginia, Kea Turner's grandmother grew so frustrated with her bed alarm that she gave up on sleeping and stayed up late watching television during her hospital stay, said Turner, a researcher at the Moffitt Cancer Center in Florida who studies, among other things, patient safety.
Many hospitals, she said, don't seem to have evidence-based strategies to reduce falls and, "in the absence of those, they're using things like bed alarms," she said, which "is not necessarily reducing falls risk and might actually be causing more harm."
Dr. Joel Bundy, chief quality and safety officer at Sentara Healthcare, a not-for-profit health system that includes the Virginia Beach hospital, said nurses in that oncology unit decided to use bed alarms for all patients at night because of a high number of falls. But he said Sentara typically employs bed alarms only for patients who are deemed at a high risk of falling, based on a questionnaire developed at Johns Hopkins.
Meanwhile, some hospitals are trying to quiet the noise.
By customizing alarm settings and converting some audible alerts to visual displays at nurses' stations, Cvach's team at Johns Hopkins reduced the average number of alarms from each patient's cardiac monitor from 350 to about 40 per day, she said.
But that's just one device in one unit; other devices and types of care require different customized settings.
Still, Cvach said, "a lot more can be done."
Dr. Fred Buckhold, an internist at SSM Health St. Louis University Hospital in Missouri, said one patient's experience spurred his hospital to reduce reliance on bed alarms.
A 67-year-old woman was placed on a bed alarm while being treated for a collapsed lung, said Buckhold, who wrote about the case in JAMA.
"I feel like I'm in jail," she protested, Buckhold said. "I can't sit up or go to the bathroom without them coming after me."
"Did the bed alarm help her at all?" Buckhold reflected in a recent interview. "It just made her want to kill us."
We all know that when the power goes out, refrigerators, heaters and air conditioners stop running. Homes go dark, and desktop computers shut down.
But those are mere inconveniences. If you need regular dialysis or chemotherapy at a clinic, or you have an infant in a neonatal intensive care unit or a loved one on a hospital ventilator, a loss of power carries far more dire implications.
California's recurrent power outages this year by Pacific Gas & Electric Co. and Southern California Edison, in response to wildfire threats up and down the state, have forced patients to think about how they get care when the power is cut at hospitals and clinics.
Hospitals that provide critical care are required by state and federal law to have backup generators on-site. In California, hospitals, outpatient clinics and treatment centers have long-standing disaster plans in place, which cover the possibility of temporary power outages.
"But continuous power shut-offs, sometimes lasting for days and then happening again within a week or two, were never what those plans were intended for," said Jan Emerson-Shea, vice president for external affairs at the California Hospital Association. "This is all very new to everybody."
Communities in Northern and Southern California have been subjected this year to numerous outages, often with no assurance of when their power would be restored. The utilities' estimates sometimes miss the mark. The outages are likely to be a long-term problem, given PG&E's 10-year timetable for fixing power transmission risks.
And the fires are not necessarily finished for this season: The Camp Fire, the most deadly in California history, started in the second week of November last year. And the Thomas Fire, a huge blaze that ravaged swaths of Ventura and Santa Barbara counties, erupted in early December 2017 and burned well into January.
The bottom line: Hospitals and clinics must be prepared for this new reality. And so must patients. The following answers to some critical questions will help readers understand what patients' options will be the next time a vital treatment is threatened by a loss of power.
Q: We have a family member on a ventilator in the hospital. What happens to her if the power goes out?
She will likely not be affected. All California hospitals must have backup generators and enough diesel fuel on hand to run for 72 hours without electricity. The generators kick in within 10 seconds of a power shut-off, Emerson-Shea said, so all critical functions — ventilators, heart monitors, surgical procedures — can continue without interruption.
Q: Some recent outages have lasted longer than 72 hours. What happens then?
As long as the hospital has access to diesel fuel, it can run on its generators for as long as it needs to (although air quality issues arise from their prolonged use). But even with generators, hospital administrators must decide which services are absolutely critical and which ones are temporarily dispensable.
Q: What are some examples of both?
If you have elective surgery like a knee replacement scheduled, and power is expected to be cut off that day, there's a chance the hospital will reschedule the operation. The generators are intended primarily to power the critical-care functions of a hospital — operating and emergency rooms; labor centers; the monitoring of patients' heart rates, breathing and blood pressure — and officials will keep those functions going even if it means turning off the building's air conditioning or heat.
Q: I have a chemotherapy treatment scheduled on a day when a power shut-off may occur. Should I still go?
That depends on your provider. Many oncology practices are located within or next to hospitals, so they would retain access to power even in a shut-off. The situation changes, though, if your treatments are normally provided at a free-standing health clinic or private care center, where such backup may not exist. A survey by the disaster-preparedness nonprofit Direct Relief found that only 44% of California's community health centers have a backup energy source in case of electrical failure.
Q: What do clinics without backup energy do, then, if the power goes out?
Phone calls by California Healthline to several such clinics found that most of them had a similar plan: Staffers use their cellphones to contact each patient and cancel his or her session. So be aware that you may see an unfamiliar incoming number that turns out to be your provider. If someone from your treatment team doesn't call you, call them. And if your treatment is canceled, make sure it is rescheduled for immediately after power is restored. A few of the facilities noted that their doctors have privileges at local hospitals, so in cases where the treatment is indispensable, they can send patients there. Emerson-Shea said several hospitals have reported receiving patients who had been directed there by clinics.
Q: How bad is it if I miss a chemo or radiation treatment?
In many cases, a delay of a few days won't hurt you. But missing a session altogether is not good. A study published by the National Institutes of Health showed that missed chemotherapy doses correlated with worse prognoses and higher mortality rates among cancer patients. Missed radiation treatments, likewise, have been linked to a greater risk of cancer recurrence. So it's important to stay on track.
Q: What about dialysis? If my clinic has no power, can I get treatment elsewhere?
Yes. During mandatory fire-related evacuations in Sonoma County last month, some clinics with no formal affiliation functioned as ad hoc cooperatives, cross-referring their patients depending upon which facilities were up and running, said Monica Hannaman, a dialysis social worker at Fresenius Medical Care in Santa Rosa. The goal was to treat patients without having to send them to a hospital, she said, "because the hospitals are already so burdened during emergencies like that."
Also, keep in mind that if your dialysis center is part of a bigger chain, you can go to one of its other locations. Some Sonoma County dialysis patients of San Jose-based Satellite Healthcare, which has multiple locations in California, went as far as Sacramento for treatment last month, said Lanie Borja, manager of the Satellite clinic in Windsor, Calif.
Q: What else can health care providers do to ensure my well-being in the likely case of future power outages?
Hospitals may start rethinking ways to store backup energy, Emerson-Shea said, especially given the long time PG&E has said it will take before it can stop the precautionary outages. Some free-standing medical clinics in areas with high fire and wind risk are considering buying generators large enough to power their operations, despite the big expense. Hannaman said Fresenius is thinking of putting generators in its two Santa Rosa-area clinics, because "this will be happening more often, we're afraid."
The Golden State's recurrent power outages this year in response to wild fires have forced patients to think about how they get care when the power is cut.
This article was first published on Wednesday, November 27, 2019 in Kaiser Health News.
We all know that when the power goes out, refrigerators, heaters and air conditioners stop running. Homes go dark, and desktop computers shut down.
But those are mere inconveniences. If you need regular dialysis or chemotherapy at a clinic, or you have an infant in a neonatal intensive care unit or a loved one on a hospital ventilator, a loss of power carries far more dire implications.
California's recurrent power outages this year by Pacific Gas & Electric Co. and Southern California Edison, in response to wildfire threats up and down the state, have forced patients to think about how they get care when the power is cut at hospitals and clinics.
Hospitals that provide critical care are required by state and federal law to have backup generators on-site. In California, hospitals, outpatient clinics and treatment centers have long-standing disaster plans in place, which cover the possibility of temporary power outages.
"But continuous power shut-offs, sometimes lasting for days and then happening again within a week or two, were never what those plans were intended for," said Jan Emerson-Shea, vice president for external affairs at the California Hospital Association. "This is all very new to everybody."
Communities in Northern and Southern California have been subjected this year to numerous outages, often with no assurance of when their power would be restored. The utilities' estimates sometimes miss the mark. The outages are likely to be a long-term problem, given PG&E's 10-year timetable for fixing power transmission risks.
And the fires are not necessarily finished for this season: The Camp Fire, the most deadly in California history, started in the second week of November last year. And the Thomas Fire, a huge blaze that ravaged swaths of Ventura and Santa Barbara counties, erupted in early December 2017 and burned well into January.
The bottom line: Hospitals and clinics must be prepared for this new reality. And so must patients. The following answers to some critical questions will help readers understand what patients' options will be the next time a vital treatment is threatened by a loss of power.
Q: We have a family member on a ventilator in the hospital. What happens to her if the power goes out?
She will likely not be affected. All California hospitals must have backup generators and enough diesel fuel on hand to run for 72 hours without electricity. The generators kick in within 10 seconds of a power shut-off, Emerson-Shea said, so all critical functions — ventilators, heart monitors, surgical procedures — can continue without interruption.
Q:Some recent outages have lasted longer than 72 hours. What happens then?
As long as the hospital has access to diesel fuel, it can run on its generators for as long as it needs to (although air quality issues arise from their prolonged use). But even with generators, hospital administrators must decide which services are absolutely critical and which ones are temporarily dispensable.
Q: What are some examples of both?
If you have elective surgery like a knee replacement scheduled, and power is expected to be cut off that day, there's a chance the hospital will reschedule the operation. The generators are intended primarily to power the critical-care functions of a hospital — operating and emergency rooms; labor centers; the monitoring of patients' heart rates, breathing and blood pressure — and officials will keep those functions going even if it means turning off the building's air conditioning or heat.
Q: I have a chemotherapy treatment scheduled on a day when a power shut-off may occur. Should I still go?
That depends on your provider. Many oncology practices are located within or next to hospitals, so they would retain access to power even in a shut-off. The situation changes, though, if your treatments are normally provided at a free-standing health clinic or private care center, where such backup may not exist. Asurvey by the disaster-preparedness nonprofit Direct Relief found that only 44% of California's community health centers have a backup energy source in case of electrical failure.
Q: What do clinics without backup energy do, then, if the power goes out?
Phone calls by California Healthline to several such clinics found that most of them had a similar plan: Staffers use their cellphones to contact each patient and cancel his or her session. So be aware that you may see an unfamiliar incoming number that turns out to be your provider. If someone from your treatment team doesn't call you, call them. And if your treatment is canceled, make sure it is rescheduled for immediately after power is restored. A few of the facilities noted that their doctors have privileges at local hospitals, so in cases where the treatment is indispensable, they can send patients there. Emerson-Shea said several hospitals have reported receiving patients who had been directed there by clinics.
Q:How bad is it if I miss a chemo or radiation treatment?
In many cases, a delay of a few days won't hurt you. But missing a session altogether is not good. A study published by the National Institutes of Health showed that missed chemotherapy doses correlated with worse prognoses and higher mortality rates among cancer patients. Missed radiation treatments, likewise, have been linked to a greater risk of cancer recurrence. So it's important to stay on track.
Q:What about dialysis? If my clinic has no power, can I get treatment elsewhere?
Yes. During mandatory fire-related evacuations in Sonoma County last month, some clinics with no formal affiliation functioned as ad hoc cooperatives, cross-referring their patients depending upon which facilities were up and running, said Monica Hannaman, a dialysis social worker at Fresenius Medical Care in Santa Rosa. The goal was to treat patients without having to send them to a hospital, she said, "because the hospitals are already so burdened during emergencies like that."
Also, keep in mind that if your dialysis center is part of a bigger chain, you can go to one of its other locations. Some Sonoma County dialysis patients of San Jose-based Satellite Healthcare, which has multiple locations in California, went as far as Sacramento for treatment last month, said Lanie Borja, manager of the Satellite clinic in Windsor, Calif.
Q:What else can health care providers do to ensure my well-being in the likely case of future power outages?
Hospitals may start rethinking ways to store backup energy, Emerson-Shea said, especially given the long time PG&E has said it will take before it can stop the precautionary outages. Some free-standing medical clinics in areas with high fire and wind risk are considering buying generators large enough to power their operations, despite the big expense. Hannaman said Fresenius is thinking of putting generators in its two Santa Rosa-area clinics, because "this will be happening more often, we're afraid."
Texas' bipartisan effort to shield patients from surprise medical bills could be weaker than lawmakers intended when it takes effect Jan. 1.
Earlier this year, lawmakers from both parties came together on legislation to protect people in state-regulated health plans from getting outrageous bills for out-of-network care. The new law, known as Senate Bill 1264, creates an arbitration process for insurers and providers to negotiate fair prices in those cases. The intention of the law is to establish those fair prices without ever involving patients.
But that protection is at risk of becoming "irrelevant," consumer advocates in Texas say.
"The financial struggle that legislators were trying to remove us from ― trying to protect us from ― patients might be right back in the middle of that situation," said Stacey Pogue, a senior policy analyst with the Center for Public Policy Priorities.
State agencies are writing the rules to implement and enforce the new law. Some of those rules, which will be discussed publicly in early December, will let hospitals and other care providers send patients bills in nonemergency situations, such as scheduled surgeries.
One state agency hashing out how the law will work is the Texas Medical Board, which is run by physicians and regulates other doctors in the state. Pogue said the board has proposed a rule that would expand the use of a narrow exception in the law. SB1264 created an exception for patients who knowingly want to receive nonemergency care from a doctor who is out of their health plan's network. In those cases, patients would sign a waiver with the expectation of paying those out-of-network costs.
The board's proposed rule takes that narrow exemption ― intended to be used only when patients want a particular out-of-network doctor ― and instead would require all out-of-network providers in nonemergency situations to give patients that waiver.
In practice, advocates say, the rule could essentially require out-of-network providers — like anesthesiologists and pathologists — to give patients a confusing form that waives their right to the new law's protection. The form would allow the patients to be balance-billed.
"Now it's a loophole," Pogue said. "It's a loophole in the [law] where legislators wanted to give a protection ― a win-win. And now some patients are going to get a lose-lose."
According to the Texas Medical Board, the proposed rules "require an out-of-network provider to provide written notice and disclosure to a patient no less than 10 business days prior to the date of a nonemergency procedure."
"The patient must have five business days to consider whether to accept, and may not agree prior to three business days after the notice was provided," Jarrett Schneider, a board spokesman, said in a statement. "This allows for a cooling-off period so the patient has adequate time to decide whether to proceed if there are, in fact, out-of-network charges."
Pogue said the rule also forces patients to choose between "two terrible outcomes" ― either paying more for providers they didn't choose or forgoing a needed medical procedure.
The proposed rules are expected to be discussed during the board's meeting early next month and could possibly be adopted at that time.
"It creates a path for any provider that wants to continue to send out-of-network bills [and] continue to balance-bill," Pogue said. "It creates a pathway where they can do that."
Schneider maintains that this is not the intent of the proposed rule.
"The Board's proposed rules do not waive any rights a patient has under Senate Bill 1264 or any statute," he said in a statement. "The Board has put forwardproposed rules that it believes provide patients with enough advance notice to make a reasoned, economic decision in regards to the care they are receiving."
Jamie Dudensing, CEO of the Texas Association of Health Plans, said in a statement that he believes the proposed rule "misinterprets the law's intent" and makes surprise-billing protections weaker than they were before the law passed.
"Senate Bill 1264 has been praised as the strongest surprise billing law in the country — now we are in danger of making it almost completely irrelevant," Dudensing said. "Instead of allowing for rare exceptions to surprise billing protections, the proposed rule would mandate the exception, resulting in patients losing all surprise billing protections in nonemergency situations."
Blake Hutson, the associate director for the AARP of Texas, said he's most concerned that the rules are vague about how the waiver would work. He said the state has created a unique exception in an effort to give people more freedom in choosing doctors, but it has come with a lot of confusion.
"Other states that have addressed the surprise medical bill issues haven't created an exception for nonemergency, out-of-network physicians like we did," Hutson said.
Among Hutson's concerns are that the proposed rules do not make it clear that providers should mostly rely on the arbitration process set up under the new law to figure out payments. Instead, it requires them to use the proposed form, which various advocates say is hard to understand.
Hutson said the proposed waiver form also doesn't make it clear that patients don't have to sign it. And, he said, there's no clear process for what happens if patients refuse to sign the waiver. Hutson said the medical board should create a way to ensure people can still receive care even if they refuse to be balance-billed.
"This is totally fixable," Hutson said.
Advocates say they are worried that many of these concerns won't be dealt with during the rulemaking process, though, and instead will have to be addressed during the next state legislative session in 2021.
State Sen. Kelly Hancock, a Republican from North Richland Hills, sponsored SB1264. He said "a rulemaking process that does not protect all patients … is not something we will be willing to accept." Hancock said the intent of the legislation was to protect every Texan with state-regulated health insurance from getting balance-billed by any provider.
"We are trusting the process, but we are also verifying the process to make sure we get the end result we are looking for," Hancock said. "And, frankly, what I think those who support the legislation voted for."
State Rep. Tom Oliverson, a Republican from Cypress who co-sponsored the bill, said he's not as concerned as others about the proposed rules. He said the waiver process included in the bill was supposed to be something that was rarely used and he thinks the board's final rules will honor that.
Oliverson, who is an anesthesiologist in Texas, said he doesn't anticipate providers will abuse the waiver system.
"It was designed to be something that was seldom used, but we are not going to let it become a pathway to avoid the law," Oliverson said. "And if it gets abused, we will come back in 2021 and get rid of it."
Hancock said it is fairly unusual for bills to go through a rulemaking process this bumpy. He said he thinks this is happening because the stakes for this process are high for many entities who may have been relying on surprise billing as a source of income.
"We have no intentions of seeing the efforts and the intentions of legislators being ignored ― just because associations want to get things their way," he said.
Pogue said this situation is particularly disheartening because it was a bipartisan effort in Texas, a rare phenomenon.
"I haven't seen a bill with a scope this big ― that could be this meaningful for the financial security of a family — pass in the 12 years I have been doing this," Pogue said.
Hutson said SB1264 was "painfully created" and lawmakers took the time to find a compromise with both insurers and providers, which is no easy task.
"There's a lot of money in health care ― and so the different interests are going to use whatever they can to collect money on the backs of consumers wherever they can, unfortunately," Hutson said. "It's frustrating."
This story is part of a partnership that includes KUT, NPR and Kaiser Health News.