Health officials and doctors treating patients with HIV welcome extra funding but say strategies that work in progressive cities like Seattle won't necessarily work in rural areas, especially in the South.
In addition to sending extra money to 48 mainly urban counties, Washington, D.C., and San Juan, Puerto Rico, Trump's plan targets seven states where rural transmission of HIV is especially high.
Health officials and doctors treating patients with HIV in those states say any extra funding would be welcome. But they say strategies that work in progressive cities like Seattle won't necessarily work in rural areas of Alabama, Arkansas, Kentucky, Mississippi, Missouri, Oklahoma and South Carolina.
Stigma around HIV and AIDS and around being gay runs deep in parts of Oklahoma, said Dr. Michelle Salvaggio, medical director of the Infectious Diseases Institute at the University of Oklahoma Health Sciences Center in Oklahoma City. The institute is one of two federally funded HIV clinics in Oklahoma; the other is in Tulsa, the state's second-largest city.
A Long Drive For Anonymity
Salvaggio's clinic has six exam rooms where she sees patients, many of whom drive hours for treatment. The clinic used to employ a case manager in rural Woodward County, a little more than two hours’ drive northwest of Oklahoma City.
But Salvaggio said that ended up being a waste of money. "We had to let that position go, because nobody would go see her,' Salvaggio said. "Because they didn’t want to be seen walking into the HIV case manager's office in that tiny town — that can only mean one thing."
In Oklahoma, as in much of the U.S., black gay and bisexual men have the highest risk of HIV infection. Other groups with elevated risk in Oklahoma include Latinos, heterosexual women and Native Americans.
Salvaggio applauds the goal of ending HIV transmissions within 10 years but said she doesn't think it's feasible in Oklahoma. The plan fails to recognize the particular ways different populations experience the epidemic, she said.
Native Americans in Oklahoma, for example, can't count on the anonymity of a large health clinic.
"When they go into an Indian Health Service clinic, it is possible that they will see their cousin behind the desk, and their cousin's brother-in-law working in medical records, and their niece's boyfriend working in the pharmacy," Salvaggio said.
Even if Native Americans have access to HIV care at the clinic, she said, "they are literally in fear of being outed."
Social Support Services Needed
Ky Humble's hometown is Afton, Okla., which had a population of about 800 when he was growing up. He belongs to the Cherokee Nation and was raised a Southern Baptist. He doesn't remember learning about HIV at all when he was in school.
"Even if I did, it clearly wasn't enough," Humble said. "I knew I was gay in middle school; I think I would have paid attention."
When he was diagnosed with HIV six years ago, at age 21, Humble felt as if his life was ending.
"I knew that that was a thing, [but] I was very ignorant," he recalled. "I was two weeks away from graduating from college — you're supposed to be on top of the world. I thought it was a death sentence."
He called his mom right away. She immediately drove across the state to be with him.
"We just sat there and cried for six hours straight," Humble said. "And then we actually went [out] and bought several books on HIV, and just started reading them — to try to figure out what was going on."
Today, Humble is healthy. His HIV levels are undetectable and he gets regular medical treatment to keep it that way. He now lives in Oklahoma City, but his family still lives in his hometown. He said some people back in Afton know he has HIV, and some don't.
"It's like coming out as diabetic," Humble said. "I don't necessarily tell people that I'm HIV-positive. It's just part of who I am; it doesn't define me."
He said he is cautiously optimistic that the Trump administration's plan could mean more funding for HIV prevention in Oklahoma. But rural Oklahomans, Humble said, also need access to "wraparound services" — such as food pantries, mental health therapy and transportation assistance — to help them deal with the disease.
"I have friends who have HIV and live in rural areas, and just getting to appointments is challenging," he said.
Oklahoma's Uninsured Rate Is Second-Highest In U.S.
Exactly how much money the president's HIV plan will get is up to Congress. But even inexpensive, proven methods for fighting HIV — like distributing condoms — can be a tough sell in a state that doesn't mandatecomprehensive sex education.
Informational HIV talks with teenagers often turn into a basic health class for dispelling myths, said Andy Moore, clinic administrator of the Infectious Diseases Institute at the University of Oklahoma.
"We’ve had teenagers write questions like 'I've heard that if you douche with Mountain Dew after sex that it kills sperm,'" Moore said. They earnestly want to know if that’s true. "We have to back way up and explain what sex is, how babies are made, different types of sex — before we can teach them about HIV prevention," he said.
Another issue in Oklahoma, Moore said, is that people aren't getting diagnosed with HIV until they're already sick because of AIDS, or close to that point.
"Which indicates that they didn't get tested until they had been living with the disease for six, eight, 10 years," Moore said. "We have one of the highest rates of late testing."
Salvaggio said thousands of people across Oklahoma would need to be tested for HIV to reach the administration's goal. And Oklahoma has the second-highest uninsured rate in the nation after Texas — meaning many people don't have a primary care doctor, let alone prescription drug coverage for drugs like Truvada, which can be used to prevent HIV infection.
It's also one of 14 states that haven't expanded Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act. So, even if more people were tested for HIV, getting those who need it into treatment wouldn't be easy, Salvaggio said.
Healthcare in Oklahoma is underfunded, she said, and couldn't cope with a sudden influx of new patients. "I don't know what we'd do with all those new patients," she said. "We don't have a facility to see them in, and we don't have [the] providers."
This story is part of a partnership that includes StateImpact Oklahoma, NPRand Kaiser Health News.
Such co-prescribing mandates are emerging as the latest tactic in a war against an epidemic that has claimed hundreds of thousands of lives over the past two decades.
In a growing number of states, patients who get opioids for serious pain may leave their doctors' offices with a second prescription — for naloxone, a drug that can save their lives if they overdose on the powerful painkillers.
New state laws and regulations in California, Virginia, Arizona,Ohio, Washington, Vermont and Rhode Island require physicians to "co-prescribe" or at least offer naloxone prescriptions when prescribing opioids to patients considered at high risk of overdosing. Patients can be considered at high risk if they need a large opioid dosage, take certain other drugs or have sleep apnea or a history of addiction.
Such co-prescribing mandates are emerging as the latest tactic in a war against an epidemic of prescription and illegal opioids that has claimed hundreds of thousands of lives over the past two decades.
The Food and Drug Administration is consideringwhether to recommend naloxone co-prescribing nationally (an FDA subcommittee recently voted in favor), and other federal health officials already recommend it for certain patients. And the companies that make the drug are supportive of the moves. It's not hard to see why: An FDA analysis estimated that more than 48 million additional naloxone doses would be needed if the agency officially recommended co-prescribing nationally.
Most states have limited the volume of opioids doctors can prescribe at one time and dramatically expanded access to naloxone. In California, for example, pharmacists can provide naloxone directly to consumers who are taking illegal or prescription opioids or know someone who is.
In the states with co-prescribing rules, patients aren't required to fill their naloxone prescriptions, and those with cancer or who are in nursing homes or hospice typically are exempted.
Kristy Shepard of Haymarket, Va., was surprised to find a naloxone prescription waiting for her recently when she went to the pharmacy to pick up her opioid meds. Her first instinct was not to fill it. She did so only after the nurse in her doctor's office pressured her to. The doctor had never talked to her about Virginia's new co-prescribing law, she said.
"It's so silly. I didn't feel like I needed it. Unless I plan to hurt myself, I’m not likely to overdose," said Shepard, 41, a registered nurse and hospital administrator who can no longer work and has applied for disability benefits.
But it may not be as difficult as some people think to overdose on prescription painkillers.
"You can take pain meds responsibly, and you can be at risk for an accidental overdose even when you’re doing everything right," said Dr. Nathan Schlicher, an emergency medicine physician in Washington state and a member of the state hospital association's opioid task force.
Two million Americans have an addiction to prescription painkillers, according to the FDA. And nearly 218,000 peoplein the U.S. died from overdosing on them from 1999 to 2017, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. During that same period, prescription opioid deaths rose fivefold, the CDC data show.
In California, doctors wrote nearly 22 million opioid prescriptions in 2017 and 1,169 people died that year from overdosing on prescription opioids. Common prescription opioids include Vicodin, OxyContin, Percocet, morphine, codeine and fentanyl.
To counter this trend, "states are scrambling for any policy lever they can find," said Kitty Purington, senior program director at the National Academy for State Health Policy.
Even before the state mandates, pain specialists considered it good practice to prescribe naloxone along with opioid painkillers for some patients, particularly those with a history of substance abuse.
Doctor lobbying groups typically resist government rules regarding their practice, but medical associations in some states supported or at least remained neutral on naloxone co-prescribing mandates.
The companies that make the drug have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars collectively lobbying for their interests at the state level.
Kaléo, which makes the naloxone auto-injector Evzio, spent $77,200 in 2017-18 lobbying California lawmakers on bills expanding access to naloxone, including the state's co-prescribing law, which requires doctors to offer prescriptions for naloxone to high-risk patients who get opioids.
In December, Kaléo introduceda lower-cost generic version of the injector after a Senate investigation found the company had raised the price of its branded version 600% from 2014 to 2017, to $4,100 for two injectors.
Adapt Pharma, which makes the naloxone nasal spray Narcan, spent $48,000to lobby California lawmakers on the co-prescribing legislation.
One advantage of the co-prescribing rules is that they foster important doctor-patient conversations about the risks of opioids, said Dr. Farshad Ahadian, medical director at the UC San Diego Health Center for Pain Medicine.
"Most providers probably feel that it’s better for physicians to self-regulate rather than practice medicine from the seat of the legislature," Ahadian said. "The truth is there's been a lot of harm from opioids, a lot of addiction. It's undeniable that we have to yield to that and to recognize that public safety is critical."
But some doctors — not to mention patients — have reservations about the new requirements. Some physicians say it will be nearly impossible for states to enforce the mandates. Others worry that prescribing naloxone to patients who live alone is useless, because it typically must be administered by another person — ideally one who has been trained to do it.
Patients fear that naloxone prescriptions could unfairly stigmatize them as drug addicts and cause life insurers to deny them coverage.
Shepard, the disabled Virginia nurse and a mother of four, said she worries that her naloxone prescription could affect her chances of getting additional life insurance — a pressing question, she said, as her lupus worsens over time.
And a Boston-area nurse who worked at an addiction treatment program was turned down by two life insurerssimply because she carried naloxone for her patients.
The decision to prescribe naloxone "is something that should be between a doctor and a patient, because every situation is unique," said Katie O'Leary, a 31-year-old movie production company office manager who lives in Los Angeles and was diagnosed with complex regional pain syndrome about five years ago.
"So many patients already jump through so many hoops to get their meds," O'Leary said. "And if you live alone and don’t have family or friends to take care of you, the naloxone might not be something that could actually help."
Opioid addiction and overdoses are a complex problem, and naloxone is just one part of the solution, said Dr. Ben Bobrow, a professor of emergency medicine at the University of Arizona College of Medicine.
"In the past, pain was the fifth vital sign; we thought we were doing a bad job if we were undertreating pain," Bobrow said. "Inadvertently, we were harming people. We ended up getting all these people hooked. Now it's our job to help them find other [ways] of treating their pain."
California Healthline digital reporter Harriet Blair Rowan contributed to this report.
KHN’s coverage of these topics is supported by KHN
Medicare and many private insurers don't cover drugs that are prescribed to treat problems people have engaging in sex. For many people, paying for pricey medications may be their only option.
For some older people, the joy of sex may be tempered by financial concerns: Can they afford the medications they need to improve their experience between the sheets?
Medicare and many private insurers don't cover drugs that are prescribed to treat problems people have engaging in sex. Recent developments, including the approval of generic versions of popular drugs Viagra and Cialis, help consumers afford the treatments. Still, for many people, paying for pricey medications may be their only option.
At 68, like many postmenopausal women, Kris Wieland, of Plano, Texas, experiences vaginal dryness that can make intercourse painful. Her symptoms are amplified by Sjogren's syndrome, an immune system disorder that typically causes dry eyes and mouth, and can affect other tissues.
Before Wieland became eligible for Medicare, her gynecologist prescribed Vagifem, a suppository that replenishes vaginal estrogen, a hormone that declines during menopause. That enabled her to have sex without pain. Her husband's employer plan covered the medication, and her copayment was about $100 every other month.
However, after she enrolled in Medicare, her Part D plan denied coverage for the drug.
"I find it very discriminatory that they will not pay for any medication that will enable you to have sexual activity," Wieland said. She plans to appeal.
Under the law, drugs used to treat erectile or sexual dysfunction are excluded from Part D coverage unless they are used as part of a treatment approved by the Food and Drug Administration for a different condition. Private insurers often take a similar approach, reasoning that drugs to treat sexual dysfunction are lifestyle-related rather than medically necessary, according to Brian Marcotte, CEO of the National Business Group on Health, which represents large employers.
So, for example, Medicare may pay if someone is prescribed sildenafil, the generic name for Viagra and another branded drug called Revatio, to treat pulmonary arterial hypertension, a type of high blood pressure in the lungs. But it typically won't cover the same drug if prescribed for erectile dysfunction.
Women like Kris Wieland may encounter a similar problem. A variety of creams, suppositories and hormonal rings increase vaginal estrogen after menopause so that women can have intercourse without pain. But drugs that are prescribed to address that problem haven't generally been covered by Medicare.
Sexual-medicine experts say such exclusions are unreasonable.
"Sexual dysfunction is not just a lifestyle issue," said Sheryl Kingsberg, a clinical psychologist who is the chief of behavioral medicine at University Hospitals MacDonald Women's Hospital in Cleveland. She is the immediate past president of the North American Menopause Society, an organization for professionals who treat women with these problems. "For women, this is about postmenopausal symptoms."
Relief may be in sight for some women. Last spring, the federal Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services sent guidance to Part D plans that they could cover drugs to treat moderate to severe "dyspareunia," or painful intercourse, caused by menopause. Plans aren’t required to offer this coverage, but they may do so, according to CMS officials.
"Dyspareunia is a medical symptom associated with the loss of estrogen," said Kingsberg. "They had associated it with sexual dysfunction, but it's a menopause-related issue."
For men who suffer from erectile dysfunction, treatment can confer both physical and emotional benefits, according to experts in sexual health.
"In my clinical work, I see a lot of older couples," said Sandra Lindholm, a clinical psychologist and sex therapist who is also a nurse practitioner in Walnut Creek, Calif. "They are very interested in sex, and they feel like they’re able to embrace their erotic lives. But there may be medical issues that need to be addressed."
Roughly 40% of men over age 40 have difficulty getting or maintaining an erection, studies show, and the problem increases with age. A similar percentage of postmenopausal women experience genitourinary syndrome of menopause, a term used to describe a host of symptoms related to declining levels of estrogen, including vaginal dryness, itching, soreness and pain during intercourse, as well as increased risk of urinary tract infections.
Low sexual desire is another common complaint among women and men. A drug called Addyi was approved in 2015 to treat low sexual desire disorder in premenopausal women. But many insurers don’t cover it.
Unfortunately, medications that treat these conditions may cost people hundreds of dollars a month if their insurance doesn't pick up any of the tab. A 10-tablet prescription for Viagra in a typical 50-milligram dose may cost more than $600, for example, while the price of eight Vagifem tablets may exceed $200, according to GoodRx, a website that publishes current drug prices and discounts.
In recent years, much more affordable generic versions of some of these medications have gone on the market.
Generic versions of Viagra and Cialis, another popular erectile dysfunction drug, may be available for just a few dollars a pill.
"I never write a prescription for Viagra anymore," said Dr. Elizabeth Kavaler, a urogynecologist at Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City. "These generics are inexpensive solutions for men."
There are generic versions of some women’s products as well, includingyuvafem vaginal inserts and estradiol vaginal cream.
But even those generic options are often relatively pricey. Some patients can't afford $100 for a tube of generic estradiol vaginal cream, said Dr. Mary Jane Minkin, a clinical professor of obstetrics, gynecology and reproductive medicine at Yale University School of Medicine.
"I've asked, 'Did you try any of the creams?' And they say they used up the sample I gave them. But they didn't buy the prescription because it was too expensive."
In championing 'Medicare-for-all,' politicians put forth an idea: universal healthcare, or some system in which everyone can afford medical care. But their visions for achieving that vary wildly.
Democrats with 2020 presidential aspirations are courting the party’s increasingly influential progressive wing and staking out ambitious policy platforms.
Front and center are three words: Medicare. For. All.
That simple phrase is loaded with political baggage, and often accompanied by vague promises and complex jargon. Different candidates use it to target different voter blocs, leading to sometimes divergent, even contradictory ideas.
"People are talking about this as a goal, as a commitment, as a value as much as a specific program," said Celinda Lake, a Democratic pollster.
In championing "Medicare-for-all," politicians often put forth a general idea: universal health care, or some system in which everyone can afford medical care. But their visions for achieving that vary wildly.
Sometimes Medicare-for-all is meant to promise a single-payer health care system —meaning everyone is covered by one, often government-run health plan. In other cases, politicians who say they support "for all" actually mean "for more."
Every proposal brings its own trade-offs.
"There's not just one easy answer to what a single-payer system would do to the United States," said Jodi Liu, an economist at the nonprofit Rand Corp. who studies single-payer proposals. "What happens depends on how that change is being designed, and how it's being implemented."
Here's a primer on the Medicare-for-all debate. Keep it in your back pocket: This argument won't be disappearing anytime soon.
Isn't Medicare-for-all what it sounds like? Medicare for everybody?
Not quite. But also, kind of.
Politicians talking about Medicare-for-all typically mean one of two things. It's either a specific proposal in which every American is covered by the same, single health plan, or the general idea that anyone has the option to get healthcare through Medicare.
The first understanding is outlined in a bill from Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.). Co-sponsors include Senate Democrats like Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts, Kamala Harris of California, Cory Booker of New Jersey, Kirsten Gillibrand of New York and Jeff Merkley of Oregon. All have either announced a run for president or indicated they are strongly considering one.
And they are talking about this on the campaign trail.
Sanders' bill would outlaw private insurance where it competes with the public plan and change Medicare substantially by eliminating copays and other cost sharing, while expanding the program to cover long-term care, prescription drugs, dental care and vision. (As the bill is written, it's hard to see what would be left for private plans to cover.)
The program would phase in over four years and cover every American. And it's worth noting that, though many countries run a single-payer system, none offers all of those "expanded" benefits because the expense could be enormous. Also, many single-payer programs do require a degree of cost sharing, involving small copayments or deductibles.
In other cases, the "Medicare-for-all" phrase has been repurposed.
The midterms saw a wave of Democrats campaigning on it. But beyond the buzzwords, what they were actually talking about was lowering Medicare's eligibility age or giving people the option to buy in or join the program. This would leave the private insurance industry intact. It would also preserve Medicare Advantage, in which the government pays private companies to run Medicare plans.
For many voters, it's less about granular details and more about the principle, Lake suggested: "The highest level of support is when you talk about [Medicare-for-all] generally."
So are Democrats saying we should get rid of private insurance?
Democrats who have signed on to Sanders' bill have endorsed legislation that would outlaw virtually all private health insurance. That's controversial.
Private insurance covers the largest share — 56% in 2017 — of Americans. And voters are often afraid of losing what they have if it's uncertain they'll get something better in exchange. Just ask then-President Barack Obama, whose Affordable Care Act-related promise that "if you like your plan, you can keep it" sparked sharp backlash after proving untrue.
This gets at a key question: Can Medicare-for-all advocates convince voters they'll replace their health plans with something better?
After all, most Americans say they support Medicare-for-all. But some of the samepollsindicate that most people with employer-sponsored insurance think their coverage would be unaffected by the switch. That’s false.
Critics also say eliminating private insurance could gut a major sector of the health economy. As of December 2018, private health coverage was directly responsible for almost 540,000 jobs, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. Economists note, though, that predicting how many jobs would go away — versus how many could be absorbed by the new system — is difficult, as is projecting any macroeconomic impact.
The magnitude of such a change underscores why some Democrats are trying to tread lightly for fear of land mines.
When probed on Medicare-for-all, Harris said she supported eliminating private insurance — while also saying she would, in the interim, back other bills that expand access to health care. Warren, in a televised interview,sidestepped specifics altogether. And Booker told reporters he would not outlaw private healthcare, noting that many other countries have achieved universal coverage without taking this step.
For example, Germany has universal healthcare but leaves private insurance intact, while heavily regulating the industry and requiring plans be not-for-profit.
So what other options are Democrats talking about?
Voters should get familiar with two other ideas: lowering Medicare's eligibility age, and the "public option," either through a Medicare or Medicaid buy-in.
These concepts are decidedly not Medicare-for-all — think "Medicare for more" or Medicaid for more."
Lowering the eligibility age loops more people into the current system and is seen by advocates as a potential step toward single-payer, said Alex Lawson, head of the left-leaning Social Security Works, who has been involved in drafting Medicare-for-all legislation.
The public option lets people purchase coverage through Medicare or Medicaid. It has attracted criticism from Democrats aligned with the Sanders wing, who argue it's settling for less.
Senate Democrats have introduced bills advancing such ideas — including Merkley, who pushed a Medicare-based public option to let individuals and employers buy Medicare coverage, while also attaching himself to Sanders' measure. A proposal from Sens. Tim Kaine (D-Va.) and Michael Bennet (D-Colo.) would extend that option only to individuals. (Bennet is also purportedly weighing a 2020 bid.)
Said Liu, the health economist: "The devil is in the details."
Shouldn't we consider who would pay? Would this make things better?
Any health system comes with trade-offs, winners and losers. Would Medicare-for-all mean higher taxes? Probably. Opponents would definitely say it does, an argument that, polling shows, weakens support.
Would the average person pay more? That’s hard to know.
People would not pay what they currently do for health insurance, an outlay that's only getting more expensive. They would also likely get more generous health coverage. And lawmakers are pitching various other bills — see Warren's wealth tax, Sanders' estate tax or the 70% marginal tax on the wealthy touted by Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-N.Y.) — that backers argue would generate revenue to pay for something like Medicare-for-all.
Perhaps more significant, at least politically, are the implications for healthcare stakeholders like hospitals, insurers and drugmakers. All stand to lose under single-payer, especially if it's used to bring down health care costs.They're already working to make their opposition felt. (That said, opposition from the health industry is not universal.)
When Democrats say they want Medicare-for-all, then do they really mean single-payer?
There has been a lot of brouhaha on this.
Take the backlash when Harris, after backing single-payer, said she also supported "Medicare-" and "Medicaid for more"-type policies. Her spokesman compared that to "wanting a burrito" while being willing to accept tacos in the meantime.
Of course, Harris isn't the only one to straddle those plans. Merkley, Gillibrand, Booker and Warren have put their names to multiple health reform bills. So, in fact, has Sanders, who voted to support, among other bills, the Affordable Care Act — decidedly not single-payer.
So are Democrats wavering? Is saying "Medicare-for-all," or even single-payer, a hook to win votes, or a bargaining strategy to end up with a public option instead?
It just isn't that simple.
"None of us can see into the hearts of anybody. And it's not a low-bar thing to sponsor a bill," said Lawson of Social Security Works. In a presidential campaign, though, "people will want to hedge."
But, he added, Medicare-for-all's popularity — even as a concept — shows something significant.
"There is a consensus that the current system needs to fundamentally transform," he said. "There's a commitment to do that. Then we have to argue out the details."
Study suggests that emergency department clinicians squander an opportunity to divert opioid overdose patients toward drug and mental health therapies upon discharge, and a lack of training may be the reason why.
The last time heroin landed Marissa Angerer in a Midland, Texas, emergency room — naked and unconscious — was May 2016. But that wasn't her first drug-related interaction with the health system. Doctors had treated her a number of times before, either for alcohol poisoning or for ailments related to heavy drug use. Though her immediate, acute health issues were addressed in each episode, doctors and nurses never dealt with her underlying illness: addiction.
Angerer, now 36 and in recovery, had been battling substance use disorder since she started drinking alcohol at age 16. She moved onto prescription pain medication after she broke her ankle and then eventually to street opiates like heroin and fentanyl.
Just two months before that 2016 overdose, doctors replaced an infected heart valve, a byproduct of her drug use. She was discharged from the hospital and began using again the next day, leading to a reinfection that ultimately cost her all 10 toes and eight fingers.
"[The hospital] didn't have any programs or anything to go to," Angerer said. "It's nobody's fault but my own, but it definitely would have been helpful if I didn't get brushed off."
This scenario plays out in emergency departments across the country, where the next step — a means to divert addicted patients into treatment — remains elusive, creating a missed opportunity in the health system.
Arecent study of Medicaid claims in West Virginia, which has an opioid overdose rate more than three times the national average and the highest death ratefrom drug overdoses in the country, documented this disconnect.
Researchers analyzed claims for 301 people who had nonfatal overdoses in 2014 and 2015. By examining hospital codes for opioid poisoning, researchers followed the patients' treatment, seeing if they were billed in the following months for mental health visits, opioid counseling visits or prescriptions for psychiatric and substance abuse medications.
They found that fewer than 10%of people in the study received, per month, medications like naltrexone or buprenorphine to treat their substance use disorder. (Methadone is another option to treat substance use, but it isn't covered by West Virginia Medicaid and wasn't included in the study.) In the month of the overdose, about 15% received mental health counseling. However, on average, in the year after the overdose, that number fell to fewer than 10% per month.
"We expected more … especially given the national news about opioid abuse," said Neel Koyawala, a second-year medical student at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine in Baltimore, and the lead author on the study, which was published last month in the Journal of General Internal Medicine.
It's an opportunity that's being missed in emergency rooms everywhere, said Andrew Kolodny, the co-director of Opioid Policy Research at the Heller School for Social Policy and Management at Brandeis University outside Boston.
"There's a lot of evidence that we're failing to take advantage of this low-hanging fruit with individuals who have experienced a nonfatal overdose," Kolodny said. "We should be focusing resources on that population. We should be doing everything we can to get them plugged into treatment."
He compared it to someone who came into the emergency room with a heart attack. It's taken for granted that the patient would leave with heart medication and a referral to a cardiac specialist. Similarly, he wants patients who come in with an overdose to start buprenorphine in the hospital and leave with a referral to other forms of treatment.
Kolodny and Koyawala both noted that a lack of training and understanding among health professionals continues to undermine what happens after the overdose patient is stabilized.
"Our colleagues in emergency rooms are not particularly well trained to be able to help people in a situation like this," said Dr. Margaret Jarvis, the medical director of a residential addiction treatment center in Pennsylvania.
It was clear, Angerer said, that her doctors were not equipped to deal with her addiction. They didn't know, for instance, what she was talking about when she said she was "dope sick," feeling ill while she was going through withdrawal.
"They were completely unaware of so much, and it completely blew my mind," she said.
When she left the hospital after her toe and finger amputations, Angerer recalls her next stop seemed to be a tent city somewhere in Midland, where she feared she would end up dead. Instead, she persuaded her mother to drive her about 300 miles to a treatment facility in Dallas. She had found it on her own.
"There were a lot of times I could have gone down a better path, and I fell through the cracks," Angerer said.
The bottom line, Jarvis said, is that when a patient comes into the emergency room with an overdose, they're feeling sick, uncomfortable and "miserable." But surviving that episode, she emphasized, doesn’t necessarily change their perilous condition.
"Risk for overdose is just as high the day after as the day before an overdose," said Dr. Matt Christiansen, an assistant professor in the Department of Family & Community Health at the Marshall University Joan C. Edwards School of Medicine in West Virginia.
Utah's proposal to limit federal and state funding on Medicaid is a radical change. Anti-poverty advocates are concerned that caps could limit how many people are enrolled and restrict services.
Utah this week became the 35th state to approve expanding Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, but advocates for the poor worry its unusual financing could set a dangerous precedent and lead to millions of people losing coverage across the country.
That’s because the plan includes unprecedented annual limits on federal and state spending.
Those restrictions would be a radical change for Medicaid. Since it began in 1966, the state-federal health program for low-income residents has been an open-ended entitlement for anyone who meets eligibility criteria. State and federal spending must keep pace with enrollment.
Joan Alker, executive director of the Georgetown University Center for Children and Families, is concerned that the state and federal Medicaid funding caps can limit how many people are enrolled and what services they receive. She said no state has before tried to cap its own funding.
"This is a way for the state to look like it's doing expansion when they are really doing very little," she said.
If Utah's plan is approved, Alker added, other states that have already expanded Medicaid and some that are considering it will likely seek to strike a similar deal.
Limiting spending on Medicaid has been a longtime goal of fiscal conservatives, but opposition to the idea helped blow up Republican efforts to repeal and replace the ACA in 2017.
Also fueling criticism: The law signed by Utah Gov. Gary Herbert on Monday expands Medicaid only to people earning up to 100% of the federal poverty level instead of the 138% mark set by the ACA and approved by Utah voters in a referendum supporting expansion in November. Both the Obama and Trump administrations have refused in the past to accept that condition.
The proposal also includes a work requirement for adults who gain coverage through the expansion.
Utah's proposal needs federal approval, and state officials said they hope to have that in time to expand Medicaid to 90,000 adults on April 1.
The state expects to adopt annual spending caps after negotiations with the Trump administration.
Congressional Republicans and President Donald Trump tried to cap federal Medicaid payments as part of their health law repeal efforts in 2017. But that move met stiff opposition from Democrats, hospital and patient advocates and some Republican lawmakers. They warned it would lead to cuts in benefits and enrollment.
Utah's proposal to limit federal spending was necessary to get the Trump administration to approve its application to only partially expand Medicaid, the state’s top Medicaid official said.
"We were looking for a way to make our waiver more attractive to the federal government," said Nathan Checketts, Utah's Medicaid director.
He said the Trump administration last year was skeptical of the state’s proposal to expand Medicaid to adults with incomes below 100% of the federal poverty level — about $12,500 annual income for an individual — instead of 138% of the poverty level, about $17,000 in annual income. That’s because it would mean higher federal spending, since people earning between 100% and 138% of poverty would be eligible for federal subsidies to help pay for premiums for insurance they buy on the ACA exchange.
By capping funding at a negotiated per capita rate, the federal government could better control its spending, Checketts said.
Under Trump, the federal Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services has not approved requests by Arkansas and Massachusetts to get the higher federal match rate for partial expansion.
CMS, Checkett added, has been open to a deal since after Election Day. "They've become more receptive to our request than they were last year, but there are no guarantees," he said.
Under the proposed deal, the federal government would pay 90% of the costs for anyone coming into Medicaid through expansion — the rate set by the ACA. In traditional Medicaid, the state receives a 70% federal match.
The federal spending cap would vary based on how many people are enrolled under expansion. If the costs for covering the expansion population exceeded the federal spending cap, the state could limit how many people it enrolled, Checketts said.
The law also includes a state funding cap so Utah officials can limit enrollment if spending were to exceed the budget, Checketts said. The federal government would also have to approve a state spending cap.
"The state has to balance its budget every year, and this allows the state to align its budget and a certain amount of money to put toward this population and not any more," he said.
If CMS does not grant the waiver for a partial expansion, the bill requires the state to establish a full expansion in 2020.
Jessie Mandle, senior health policy analyst for Voices for Utah Children, an advocacy group, said the plan is tough to swallow for advocates who have been fighting for expansion for more than six years.
"This will create more barriers and restraints to care," she said. "This was not the way voters chose to expand."
Utah's plan to seek a per capita spending cap comes even though the state’s per capita Medicaid spending is among the lowest, according to a report last yearby the Utah Foundation, a nonpartisan research group.
The average cost for each Medicaid enrollee in Utah was $5,326 in 2014, the most recent year for which that figure is available, the report found. That number was the 10th lowest in the United States.
Nationwide, Utah also had the lowest percentage of its population enrolled in Medicaid as of 2016, the report said.
The Texas Department of Insurance's mediation program can intervene when Texans complain about an unexpected bill. Historically, the state program had many restrictions that left few consumers eligible for help. But the Texas Legislature expanded it in 2017.
In Texas, a growing number of patients are turning to a little-known state mediation program to deal with unexpected hospital bills.
The bills in question often arrive in patients' mailboxes with shocking balances that run into the tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars.
When patients, through no fault of their own, are treated outside their insurers' network of hospitals, the result can be a surprise bill. Other times, insurers won't agree to pay what the hospital charges, and the patient is on the hook for the balance.
The Texas Department of Insurance's mediation program can intervene when Texans complain about an unexpected bill — often after an emergency in which a patient is rushed for treatment at an out-of-network hospital.
Historically, the state program had many restrictions that left few consumers eligible for help. But the Texas Legislature expanded it in 2017.
Since then, more patients have been filing complaints. In 2014, the department was asked to mediate 686 medical bills. During the 2018 fiscal year, however, it received 4,445 bills, more than double the 2,063 bills received in 2017.
Even after the changes, the mediation program could be a lot more robust and is likely addressing only a fraction of these problematic bills, consumer advocates say.
The Road To A Surprise Medical Bill
Brad Buckingham had to deal with a surprise medical bill after a bicycle accident in 2016.
The Austin, Texas, dentist said he was on a ride with friends in December 2016 when he crossed train tracks at an angle to avoid a pileup. His wheel slipped out from under him, and he landed hard on his left hip.
"All I could do was scream," he said. "I couldn't even make words."
"I specifically remember I gave them my health insurance information in the ambulance," he said. "And they put me in the ER, and from the ER they took my insurance information again."
Buckingham had insurance through Baylor Scott & White Health, which he bought through the Affordable Care Act marketplace. St. David's was out of his plan's network, but no one told him that — at first.
Buckingham had broken his hip, and doctors took him into surgery the same day.
"They held me in the hospital for three days just for recovery and never told me I was out of network until the time of my discharge," he said.
A few weeks later, Buckingham got a bill that said he owed $71,543.
The total bill eventually came to $75,346. Baylor Scott & White, which left the ACA marketplace the following year, paid only $3,812.
Buckingham thought it was a mistake, he said. He called the hospital and the insurer to sort it out. But after weeks of inquiring about it, there was no resolution.
Both the hospital and insurer insisted payment was his responsibility.
"I'm sitting there thinking to myself that there is no way — there is no way — this is right," he said.
Baylor Scott & White said it couldn't discuss Buckingham's bill "due to confidentiality requirements."
After Buckingham gave St. David’s permission to discuss his case with the media, the hospital released a statement saying his bill was actually the amount he owed from his deductible and coinsurance — not a balance bill.
The hospital also said the bill was so large because of his "high deductible plan."
Those plans "may be attractive to some people because they cost less, though they place more financial responsibility on the patient," the statement from St. David's said.
Buckingham said his policy had a deductible of $5,000 for in-network care and $10,000 for out-of-network care. He still doesn't know how his bill got to be so high, he said.
Buckingham didn't know about the state's mediation program. But even if he had known, he wasn't eligible for the program at the time. His bike accident and the billing dispute with the hospital happened months before the Texas Legislature decided to expand the pool of eligible patients. So he hired his own lawyer to help him negotiate with the hospital.
Buckingham now owes a couple of thousand dollars to St. David's, he said, but he remains frustrated by the experience.
"You know, whenever I tell my story to anybody, they kind of agree — like, 'Oh my gosh, this is ridiculous,'" he said. "But then when you talk to the people that have any control over it, it's the exact opposite. It's: 'You owe it; we don't.'"
‘A Total Roll Of The Dice'
A surprise bill can happen to anyone who makes an urgent trip to the nearest emergency room.
"It's a total roll of the dice," said Stacey Pogue, a senior policy analyst with the Center for Public Policy Priorities in Austin. She has been looking into balance billing for years. "The medical emergency that's going to send you to the hospital where you could get a surprise bill — is that emergency room going to be in or out of network?"
Pogue said the Texas Department of Insurance's mediation process forces an insurance company and the hospital or medical provider to negotiate a fair price for services. Ninety percent of the time those negotiations happen over the phone, she said.
There are two big reasons the number of bills sent for mediation more than doubled from 2017 to 2018, Pogue said.
"One is just increased awareness," she said. "There is constant media attention now to surprise medical bills because the stories are so shocking, right? We see them covered more, so people are more aware that when they get one, they could do something about it."
The second reason is that, in 2017, the Texas Legislature opened the mediation program up to more people, including teachers.
Can’t Wish It Away
Stacey Shapiro, a first-grade teacher in Austin, also received a surprise bill from St. David's South Austin Medical Center after she landed in the emergency room last March.
The marathon runner said she woke up one Saturday for an early run and wasn’t feeling well.
"All of a sudden the whole room started spinning. … I started sweating, sweating like buckets," she said. "It was terrible, and then all I remember is that my ears started popping, my vision got blurred and then the next thing I knew, I had passed out."
Shapiro’s boyfriend heard her hit the bathroom floor. He found her passed out, with her eyes open and hardly breathing. He took her to St. David's because it was the closest hospital.
Shapiro was taken care of in a few hours, she said. Hospital staff gave her fluids and anti-nausea medication. Doctors found she had a dramatic change in her blood pressure that was likely due to a spell of hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar.
Two months later, a bill for $6,720 came in the mail.
Like many teachers in Austin, Shapiro gets her health insurance from Aetna.
In a statement, the insurer said Austin school district employees are supposed to use the Seton Accountable Care Organization network, comprising several Catholic hospitals in the area. The parent company for St. David's, the for-profit hospital chain HCA, doesn't participate in that network.
"Unfortunately, HCA is not currently accepting payments through Aetna's [contracted payment] program, which provides set payment fees for non-participating providers. This has resulted in Ms. Shapiro being balance billed for her emergency room visit," Aetna wrote in a statement.
Shapiro said she had heard of other Austin Independent School District employees dealing with high hospital bills. In fact, Shapiro reached out to radio station KUT after hearing the story of Drew Calver, an Austin high school teacher who was balance-billed for nearly $109,000 by St. David's after a heart attack. Calver's story was part of Kaiser Health News and NPR's "Bill of the Month" series last year.
In her case, Shapiro said, Aetna told her not to pay what the hospital was charging her. She was told to pay only her deductible ($1,275), which she did right away, she said. But St. David's kept sending her bills for the remaining balance, which was more than $5,000.
"I guess I just thought that it was going to go away," Shapiro said.
But it didn't. For a public school teacher, $5,000 would have been a huge blow to her budget, she said.
Shapiro applied for financial assistance, but St. David's told her she didn’t qualify. She felt out of options, she said — until a friend told her about the state's mediation program.
After she contacted the program, a state mediator set up a scheduled call with Aetna and St. David's. But before it took place, a KUT reporter asked St. David's for a comment on the situation. Shortly afterward, Shapiro said, St. David's told her she no longer owed anything.
St. David's later told KUT that Shapiro had "already satisfied her financial obligation." It also denied that she was balance-billed to begin with.
Shapiro called the whole experience exhausting. "It's just very frustrating because this has been very time-consuming," she said.
More Work To Do
Pogue, of the Center for Public Policy Priorities, has been arguing that the state needs to find more ways to get involved. The current mediation process is pretty good, she said, but not enough people know it's an option.
"Because first, the instructions for how to do it are on your medical bill and your explanation of benefits — the most indecipherable documents you are going to get," she said.
And even if people understand they have a right to mediation, they might get scared off by the concept and think they need a lawyer, Pogue added.
When people do use the program, though, it tends to work by saving patients money.
In fiscal year 2018, the initial complaints amounted to $9.7 million worth of medical bills, according to the state insurance agency. After mediation, the final charges had been negotiated down to $1.3 million.
Mediation is helpful, Pogue said, but it still puts a big burden on the patient, who may be confused. "Why didn't this happen in the first place?" she said. "How come I had to, while recovering from an emergency, decipher medical bills, fill out paperwork with the state department of insurance, jump through all these hoops, when all that needed to happen was a phone call?"
The ideal solution to surprise medical bills would remove consumers from this confusing web altogether, she said.
States like New York, California and Florida have systems that make things easier for consumers, Pogue said, and Texas should, too.
In 2015, New York became the first state to pass a law aimed at protecting patients from surprise medical bills from out-of-network hospitals. Its Emergency Medical Services and Surprise Bills Law holds consumers harmless if they are treated by an out-of-network doctor at a participating hospital, among other things.
In 2016, Florida lawmakers passed legislation protecting consumers from receiving surprise medical bills "from doctors and hospitals that don't have a contract with the patient's insurance plan," the Miami Heraldreported.
And in 2017, California passed a law shielding patients from balance billing. Thelaw kicks inif someone visits an in-network provider, including a hospital, imaging center or lab. Under the law, patients would be responsible only for their in-network share of the cost, even if they’re seen by an out-of-network provider.
In the meantime, Pogue said, more Texans should take advantage of what’s already in place in the state.
The number of people who seek mediation is "tiny compared to the number of people who get surprise bills," she said, "so there is a ton of work to be done."
This story is part of a partnership that includes KUT, NPRand Kaiser Health News.
Experts say most providers are vigilant in properly storing their vaccines, but a recent spate of problems related to improper storage and packaging has led to concerns that the vaccines administered are less than effective.
By correcting one potential error, the Ventura County (Calif.) Health Care Agency accidentally made another — and jeopardized vaccines given to thousands of people in the process.
In October 2017, county health officials, concerned that vaccines were getting too warm while being transported to clinics, changed their protocol. But a routine audit in November found that the ice packs they were using may have frozen some of the medicines and lowered their effectiveness. The agency then offered to reimmunize everyone who had received a vaccine that was delivered in faulty packaging.
"There's no way to tell whether or not they were ineffective," said Jason Arimura, director of pharmacy services for Ventura County Medical Center. Out of an abundance of caution, "we just notified everyone."
The number of patients affected: 23,000.
Ventura County is far from the only case of vaccines feared to be ineffective reaching patients. In the past 13 months alone, 117 children received possibly compromised vaccines against polio, meningococcal disease and the human papillomavirusat an Indian Health Service clinic in Oklahoma Citybecause of improper refrigeration. Similar issues with temperature control prompted a health clinic in Indianapolisto send letters offering to revaccinate 1,600 people last January, according to local news reports.
Last week, Kentucky officials announced that potentially ineffective and contaminated vaccines were administered at multiple businesses across Kentucky, Ohio and Indiana. The statement did not disclose how many people were affected.
The federal government sets standards on the storage of vaccines. However, not all healthcare providers are accountable under those guidelines.
The Vaccines for Children (VFC) program, which offers these drugs at no cost for kids from low-income families, requires clinics, doctors and other providers to undergo annual audits and use top-grade equipment, such as continuous temperature-monitoring devices. It also requires that problems be reported to federal authorities.
More than 44,000 doctors participate in the program and provide vaccines to 90% of the children in the country, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
But medical facilities outside of the program — like many pharmacies and internists with private practices who are treating adults or children not in the VFC program — have no comparable federal oversight. In fact, storing vaccines and reporting cases of patients receiving ineffective drugs is largely up to their discretion. The vaccines involved in the Ventura County recall were not part of the Vaccines for Children program.
Experts said most hospitals, clinics and doctors are vigilant in properly storing their vaccines. Andresearchsuggests that compromised vaccines given to patients are not harmful.
L.J Tan, chief strategy officer for the nonprofit vaccination advocacy group Immunization Action Coalition, said the nation's vaccine stock is likely one of "the safest in the world."
But improperly handling these medications means wasting expensive drugs, and using compromised vaccines "could create a pocket of underimmunized individuals," said Dr. Julie Boom, a pediatrician and director of the immunization project at Texas Children’s Hospital. "And we don't want that to happen."
In Ventura County, the temperature problems affected vaccines for flu, tetanus, diphtheria, whooping cough and hepatitis B. County health officials told patients who had received tuberculosis testing and some who had received penicillin to treat syphilis that their medicines also may have been compromised.
Through January, approximately 1,200 have come back to be revaccinated, Arimura said. Revaccinating all 23,000 people would cost $1.3 million, he added.
Vaccines are extremely sensitive to temperature fluctuations. In some cases, exposing a vaccine to the wrong environment once can effectively kill live viruses and harm proteins in the vaccines, said Tan. Generally, temperature problems occur during transportation of medicines.
Without proper monitoring, it is nearly impossible to tell whether vaccines have been exposed to extreme temperatures, said Boom.
A 2012 reportby the inspector general at the Department of Health and Human Services found that, in a two-week period, three-quarters of the 45 healthcare providers who were sampled — all of which participated in the Vaccines for Children program — exposed their vaccines to improper temperatures for at least five cumulative hours.
A separate study by researchers at the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention published in 2015 found that 23% of the vaccination errors reported to the federal surveillance system from 2000 to 2013 involved improper storage or the use of expired vaccines.
Since these reports, the CDC put in place additional requirements for the children’s program, including recording the minimum and maximum temperature of the vaccine storage unit daily.
Dr. Paul Hunter, associate professor of family medicine and community health at the University of Wisconsin, said the federal oversight is "very good."
"In the big picture, they do it very consistently," he said.
For doctors and clinics outside the federal surveillance system, financial concerns often force them to take special care with vaccines and similar medicines. One vaccine dose can cost hundreds of dollars.
Sanford Health, a South Dakota-based health care system with operations across the Midwest, is working to make the federal requirements the standard for vaccines among its health care providers. The system started Vax Champ, a six-month training program for nurses to learn how to store and handle vaccines. The program requires participants to periodically take photos of their vaccine stocks and send in a list of all their inventory for review.
Funding for the program came from the vaccine manufacturer Sanofi Pasteur.
Andrea Polkinghorn, immunization strategy leader for Sanford Health, said vaccine storage systems vary widely among providers. Purchasing pharmaceutical-grade storage equipment is costly, she said, and providers are in different phases of the upgrade.
"But when you compare that to the projected loss of vaccines," Polkinghorn said, "the end is worth the means."
It sounded like an answer to prayers for millions with diabetes struggling to pay soaring prices for insulin.
At a congressional hearing last month, Sen. Mike Enzi said an adviser had found "a foundation to import insulin for a number of people at lower cost." The Wyoming Republican told the mother of a young man with Type 1 diabetes that his adviser "worked through a foundation so that it would be legal, and I will share that with you."
Such a group could link patients to safe medicines while saving them hundreds or thousands of dollars a year. But it doesn't appear to exist, leaving patients with diabetes to either pay sky-high U.S. prices or try to import cheap insulin on their own, which is technically illegal.
Enzi spokesman Max D'Onofrio said he was unable to identify the group. And neither the American Diabetes Association nor the Campaign for Personal Prescription Importation is aware of a foundation like the one Enzi described, officials at those groups said.
"I have no idea what Sen. Enzi was talking about, but I'd like to know," said Gabriel Levitt, president of PharmacyChecker.com, which helps patients compare medicine prices and connect with foreign pharmacies.
Enzi spoke at a Jan. 29 hearing on drug prices held by the Senate finance committee. He was addressing Kathy Sego, whose son had skipped insulin doses to save the family money and was profiled by Kaiser Health News in 2017.
Sego said she wants more information but never heard back from Enzi’s office. "I have not heard of ANY foundation which helps people with insulin," she said via email.
"Sen. Enzi talks to a number of informal advisers, constituents and stakeholders who are concerned about healthcare costs, including drug prices, and he was referring to an anecdotal conversation he had," D'Onofrio said. Insulin list prices have risen as much as threefold in the past decade and patients can pay hundreds of dollars per month even with insurance.
While insulin makers Sanofi, Eli Lilly and Novo Nordisk often rebate a portion of those increases back to insurance companies and pharmacy benefit managers, patients' share of the cost is often based on the list price. Uninsured patients have to pay everything themselves.
Insulin brands sold in the United States can be bought for less than half as much in Canada and Mexico, prompting unknown numbers of people to drive acrossthe border or order insulin by mail.
Unauthorized importation of prescription medicine is technically illegal, but the Food and Drug Administration allows "entry of shipments when the quantity and purpose are clearly for personal use," according to agency rules.
Just over a year ago, FDA criminal investigation agents searched stores in Floridathat help consumers order many kinds of drugs from Canada and elsewhere. That suggests that a foundation importing insulin in bulk might be subject to the same kind of scrutiny.
For Enzi's part, he "continues to have concerns that importing prescription drugs from other countries will not solve the problem of rising drug prices," said his spokesman, D’Onofrio. "He hopes Congress takes real action this year to lower healthcare costs."
State officials credit low unemployment with a drop in the Medicaid rolls, but patient advocates note that many who've lost Medicaid coverage are children. They blame an arduous re-emrollment process has eligible people 'falling through the cracks.'
Tangunikia Ward, a single mom of two who has been unemployed for the past couple of years, was shocked when her St. Louis family was kicked off Missouri's Medicaid program without warning last fall.
She found out only when taking her son, Mario, 10, to a doctor to be treated for ringworm.
When Ward, 29, tried to contact the state to get reinstated, she said it took several weeks just to have her calls returned. Then she waited again for the state to mail her a long form to fill out attesting to her income and family size, showing that she was still eligible for the state-federal health insurance program for the poor.
Mario, who is in third grade, missed much of school in December because Ward could not afford a doctor visit without Medicaid. His school would not let him return without a doctor's note saying he was no longer infected.
In January, with the help of lawyers from Legal Services of Eastern Missouri, she was able to get back on Medicaid, take her son to a doctor and return him to school. "It was a real struggle as it seemed like everyone was giving me the runaround," Ward said. "I am upset because my son was out of school, and that pushed him behind."
Ward and her children are among tens of thousands of Medicaid enrollees who were dropped by Missouri and Tennessee last year as both states stepped up efforts to verify members' eligibility.
Last year, Medicaid enrollment there declined far faster than in other states, and most of those losing coverage are children, according to state data.
State health officials say several factors, including the improved economy, are behind last year's drop of 7% in Missouri and 9% in Tennessee.
But advocates for the poor think the states' efforts to weed out residents who are improperly enrolled, or the difficulty of re-enrolling, has led to people being forced off the rolls. For example, Tennessee sent packets to enrollees that could be as long as 47 pages to verify their re-enrollment. In Missouri, people faced hours-long waits on the state's phone lines to get help in enrolling.
Medicaid enrollment nationally was down about 1.5% from January to October last year, the latest enrollment data available from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services.
Herb Kuhn, president and chief executive of the Missouri Hospital Association, said the state's efforts to verify Medicaid eligibility could be tied to an increase in the number of people without coverage that hospitals are seeing.
"When we see over 50,000 children come off the Medicaid rolls, it raises some questions about whether the state is doing its verifications appropriately," he said. "Those who are truly entitled to the service should get to keep it."
In 2018, Missouri Medicaid began automating its verification system for the state-federal insurance program for the poor. People who were identified as ineligible, for income or other reasons, were sent a letter asking them to provide updated documentation. Those who did not respond or could not prove their eligibility were dropped.
The state does not know how many letters it sent or how many people responded, said Rebecca Woelfel, spokeswoman for the Missouri Department of Social Services, which oversees Medicaid. She said Missouri Medicaid enrollees were given 10 days to respond.
Woelfel cited the new eligibility system, the improved economy and Congress rescinding the federal tax penalty for people who lack insurance as factors behind the decline in enrollment.
Missouri’s unemployment rate dropped from 3.7% in January 2018 to 3.1% in December as the number of unemployed people fell by about 17,000.
Missouri Medicaid had almost 906,000 people enrolled as of December, down from more than 977,000 in January 2018, according to state data. About two-thirds of those enrolled are children or pregnant women.
Timothy McBride, a health economist at Washington University in St. Louis who heads a Missouri Medicaid advisory board, said the state's eligibility system has made it too difficult for people to stay enrolled. Since low-income people move or may be homeless, their mailing addresses may be inaccurate. Plus, many don't read their mail or may not understand what was required to stay enrolled, he added.
"I worry some people are still eligible but just did not respond, and the next time they need healthcare they will show up with their Medicaid card and find out they are not covered," McBride said.
Tennessee’s Medicaid enrollment fell from 1.48 million in January 2018 to 1.35 million in December, according to state data. Tennessee Medicaid spokeswoman Kelly Gunderson credits a healthy job market. The state's unemployment rate was relatively stable last year at under 4%.
"Tennessee is experiencing a state economy that continues to increase at what appears to be near-historic rates, which is positively impacting Tennesseans' lives and, in some cases, decreasing their need to access health insurance through the state's Medicaid program and the Children's Health Insurance Program," she said.
She added that the state has a "robust appeals process" for anyone who was found ineligible by the state's reverification system.
The Tennessee Justice Center, an advocacy group, has worked with hundreds of families in the past year trying to restore their Medicaid coverage. The verification process will make "Medicaid rolls smaller and saves money, and that's a poor way for the state to measure success," said Michele Johnson, executive director of the nonprofit group. "But it's penny-wise and pound-foolish" because it leads to people showing up at emergency rooms without coverage — and hospitals have to pass on those costs to everyone else.
After rapid growth since 2014, when the Affordable Care Act expanded health insurance coverage to millions of Americans, Medicaid enrollment nationally started to fall, declining from 74 million in January 2018 to about 73 million in October, according to the latest enrollment datareleased by CMS.
Missouri and Tennessee are among 17 states that have not expanded Medicaid under the ACA. But many of those non-expansion states nevertheless saw enrollment grow, because as people tried to sign up for insurance on the ACA exchanges, those meeting state criteria were routed to Medicaid.
McBride, the health economist, said the steep drop is especially disconcerting because most of those affected are children. Because children are eligible for Medicaid or CHIP with family incomes as high as 300% of the federal poverty level, or $77,250 for a family of four, he said, it's unlikely a parent's change in job would be enough for a child to lose eligibility.
Missouri's 70,000-person drop in enrollment, he noted, marks the biggest single-year reduction since 2006, when the state instituted tighter eligibility levels for certain groups.
Legal Services of Eastern Missouri, which advocates for low-income residents, estimates that nearly 57,000 of those dropped from the Medicaid rolls were children, a decline that is nine times the national average.
Joe Pierle, chief executive officer of the Missouri Primary Care Association, a trade group representing community health centers, said he doesn't think the state is doing anything "underhanded or nefarious." Nevertheless, he's not sure Medicaid officials did enough to reach out to people before dropping them.
"I suspect some people are falling through the cracks," he said.