States serve as "laboratories of democracy," as U.S. Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis famously said. And states are also labs for health policy, launching all kinds of experiments lately to temper spending on pharmaceuticals.
No wonder. Drugs are among the fastest-rising health care costs for many consumers and are a key reason health care spending dominates many state budgets — crowding out roads, schools and other priorities.
Consider Vermont, California and Oregon, states that are beginning to implement drug price transparency laws. In Nevada, the push for transparency includes the markup charged by pharmacy benefit managers (PBMs). In May, Louisiana joined a growing list of states banning "gag rules" that prevent pharmacists from discussing drug prices with patients.
State-based experiments may carry even greater weight for Medicaid, the federal-state partnership that covers roughly 75 million low-income or disabled Americans.
Ohio is targeting the fees charged to its Medicaid program by PBMs. New York has established a Medicaid spending drug cap. In late June, Oklahoma's Medicaid program was approved by the federal Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services to begin "value-based purchasing" for some newer, more expensive drugs: When drugs don't work, the state would pay less for them.
Massachusetts planned to exclude expensive drugs that weren't proven to work better than existing alternatives. The state said Medicaid drug spending had doubled in five years. Massachusetts wanted to negotiate prices for about 1 percent of the highest-priced drugs and stop covering some of them. CMS rejected the proposal without much explanation, beyond saying Massachusetts couldn't do what it wanted and continue to receive the deep discounts drugmakers are required by law to give state Medicaid programs.
The Medicaid discounts were established in 1990 law based on a grand bargain that drugmakers say guaranteed coverage of all medicines approved by the Food and Drug Administration in exchange for favorable prices.
The New England Journal of Medicine dives into the CMS decision regarding Massachusetts and its implications for other state Medicaid programs in a commentary by Rachel Sachs, an associate professor of law at Washington University in St. Louis, and co-author Nicholas Bagley. They dispute the Trump administration's claim that Massachusetts' plan would violate the grand bargain.
We talked with Sachs about Massachusetts' proposal and the implications for the rest of the country. Her answers have been edited for length and clarity.
Q: Why do you think states, such as Massachusetts, should be allowed to exclude some drugs, a move the pharmaceutical industry has said would break the deal reached back in 1990?
In our view, there's a way to frame it where the bargain has been broken and Massachusetts is simply trying to restore the balance. The problem is that the meaning of FDA approval has changed significantly over the last almost 30 years. Now we have a lot more drugs that are being approved more quickly, on the basis of less evidence — smaller trials, using surrogate endpoints — where the state has real questions about whether these drugs work at all, not only whether they are good value for the money.
Q: You suggest that Massachusetts could make a reasonable case if it chose to challenge the CMS denial. How?
CMS did not explain why it didn't grant Massachusetts' waiver. It needs to give reasons for denying something that Massachusetts, in our view, has the legal ability to do. CMS' failure to give reasons in this case resembles their failure to give reasons in a number of other cases that have recently led courts to strike down actions by the Trump administration for failure to explain the actions that they were taking.
(Note: A spokeswoman for Health and Human Services in Massachusetts says the state is not going to challenge the CMS decision.)
Q: While CMS blocked the Massachusetts experiment, it has approved the value-based purchasing plan in Oklahoma, and New York has capped its Medicaid drug spending. Aren't those signs of flexibility for states?
In some ways, yes, and in other ways, no. New York passed a cap on state Medicaid pharmaceutical spending. But once the state hits that cap, it doesn't mean the state will stop paying for prescription drugs. It just means the state is empowered to negotiate with some of these companies and seek additional discounts. They didn't need CMS approval for this. New York doesn't have the ability to say "If you don't take this deal, we're not going to cover this product."
Oklahoma is pursuing outcomes-based pricing, which is of interest. It's the first state to express interest in doing so. However, there are a lot of observers who are skeptical that outcomes agreements of this kind will materially lower prices or if they just provide companies cover to charge higher prices in the first instance.
Q: So what options do you see ahead for states given what happened in Massachusetts with the Medicaid waiver?
Unfortunately, states are quite limited in what they're able to do on their own, in terms of controlling prescription drug costs — both costs that are borne by the state in its capacity as a public employer and its capacity as an insurer for the Medicaid population. and then more generally for the many citizens who are on private insurance plans throughout the state.
This is a real problem, this concern of federal pre-emption where states' ability to go beyond federal law is often limited. So what we're seeing now is more states like Massachusetts and Vermont taking action that forces the federal government to do something or say something. States are increasingly putting pressure on the federal government because they know that their ability to act on this problem of drug pricing is limited.
California is the only state with more than 1,000 surgery centers that has given private accreditors a lead role in oversight. Those accreditors are typically paid by the same centers they evaluate.
At his surgery center near San Diego, Rodney Davis wore scrubs, was referred to as "Dr. Rod" and carried the title of director of surgery. But he was a physician assistant, not a doctor, who anesthetized patients and performed liposuction with little input from his supervising doctor, court records show.
So it was perhaps no surprise, in 2016, when an administrative judge stripped Davis of his license, concluding it was the only way to "protect the public." State officials also accused two former medical directors of Pacific Liposculpture of enabling Davis to act as a doctor.
One powerful authority in California took a different view. The state-approved private accreditation agency that oversees the center left its approval in place. So the center is still operating and Davis remains an owner and administrator, state records show.
California is the only state with more than 1,000 surgery centers that has given private accreditors a lead role in oversight. Those accreditors are typically paid by the same centers they evaluate.
That approach to oversight has created a troubling legacy of laxity, an investigation by Kaiser Health News shows. In case after case, as federal or state authorities waved red flags, state-approved accreditation agencies affixed gold seals of approval, according to a KHN review of hundreds of pages of doctors' disciplinary records, court files and accreditor reports — which are public only for California surgery centers.
One accreditation inspector called a doctor's anesthesia technique "impressive" just months before the state medical board accused her of "gross negligence" for putting patients in deep sedation without the training to save them if they stopped breathing. Another doctor who is fighting a medical board accusation of "gross negligence" over two patient deaths in 2014 and 2015 got his own surgery center approved by an accreditor in 2016.
In yet another case, Medicare officials declared a state of "immediate jeopardy" at a center that put an untrained receptionist in charge of disinfecting surgical scopes, a Medicare inspection report says. Its accreditor renewed its approval within a week.
Patient deaths after care in a California surgery center reached a 14-year high with 18 cases in 2016, though the total dipped to 14 the following year, according to state records based on reports filed by the centers. Since 2010, at least 102 patients have died after care in the state's surgery centers. Such facilities perform a variety of outpatient surgeries and now outnumber hospitals nationally.
State Sen. Jerry Hill, a San Francisco Bay Area Democrat, chairs the committee that oversees the state medical board, which reviews and approves the state's surgery center accreditation agencies every three years.
Briefed on the investigation's findings, Hill said this "definitely warrants a deeper examination into what's going on at the surgery centers and how the accreditation process is working today — and [whether it's] providing the patient protection I was hoping for when we established it."
'Impressive' Or Negligent?
California's oversight of surgery centers was upended about a decade ago when a physician's legal victory led the Department of Public Health to conclude it could no longer license doctor-owned surgery centers. The doctor had filed suit, challenging the requirement that he and his surgery center both maintain a license. He prevailed, putting state oversight of the doctor-owned centers in flux.
In 2011, state lawmakers came up with a solution, mandating that the state medical board approve the private accreditors that would be on the front lines of oversight. Today, five accreditors are allowed to both inspect surgery centers and to grant or deny surgery centers approval to operate. (Centers can also operate with just Medicare approval.)
State medical board officials denied a request for death reports that included centers' names, making a more comprehensive review of the centers or their accreditors difficult. Some of the same accreditation agencies that approve surgery centers, though, have been under fire with members of Congress after a Wall Street Journal report pinpointed gaps in their oversight of hospitals.
With the change in California, the state-approved accreditation agencies got a guaranteed source of income, since the centers each pay their accrediting agency about $15,000 every three years for their oversight role. In turn, the accreditors made a first-of-its kind concession: They agreed to make their inspection reports open to the public on a state website.
Those reports show that accreditors, at times, were at odds with other officials.
On May 1, 2012, the Institute for Medical Quality, or IMQ, a San Francisco-based accreditor, inspected Advanced Medical Spa in Rocklin, Calif. The inspectors were required to check whether the person administering anesthesia was "qualified and working within their scope of practice."
The inspector's note says the surgeon's wife, a pediatrician, was performing "conscious sedation" anesthesia and said her technique with the drug propofol was "impressive." The standard was marked as "met" and accreditation was awarded through 2015.
A month later, the state medical board launched an investigation of the pediatrician, Dr. Yessennia Candelaria, over complaints that she was handling anesthesia for plastic surgery procedures without "requisite training in anesthesia, including Propofol," the board's records show.
Investigators for the Medical Board of California found that before and after the accreditor's review, Candelaria was using propofol to put patients in a state of "deep sedation" even though she didn't have the "advanced airway" training in how to rescue them if their breathing shut down. Medical board authorities deemed the lapse "gross negligence" in an accusation filed in 2014 that also accused her of abusing controlled drugs. Her medical license was put on probation for seven years. Medical board authorities recently moved to revoke her license over unauthorized prescribing, and she has not yet filed a written response.
An attorney for Candelaria declined to comment and Candelaria did not respond to a request for comment.
In February 2013, IMQ revoked its approval of Advanced Medical Spa. The following month, Candelaria and her husband, Dr. Efrain Gonzalez, were arrested in a separate criminal case. Gonzalez was charged with 37 felony counts that included mayhem and conspiracy for allegedly disfiguring the women he operated on at the center. Candelaria was charged with 24 felony counts, including mayhem and grand theft by false pretense.
Gonzalez pleaded guilty to three felonies and was sentenced to three months of house arrest in the criminal case and surrendered his medical license. Charges were ultimately dismissed against Candelaria, who pleaded not guilty.
Victoria Samper, vice president of ambulatory programs with IMQ, said she could not comment on specific facilities. But she did note that California law allows doctors to practice outside of the field they initially train in. She also said if a doctor is doing so, an inspector would be expected to "drill down" into the physician's practices.
The medical board said in a statement that the private accreditor who dubbed Candelaria's technique "impressive" reviewed her work with a different patient than those cited in the board's accusation.
"If the Board becomes aware that there is an accreditation agency that is not following the law when accrediting outpatient surgery settings, the Board would look into it," the statement said.
Decertified, Yet Still Operating
Accreditation agencies have stood by eight California surgery centers facing the federal Medicare program's harshest consequence — "involuntary decertification." It's a rare sanction that amounts to being deemed unfit to care for seniors.
On March 22, 2016, California Department of Public of Health inspectors notified federal authorities about a state of "immediate jeopardy" at Digestive Diagnostic Center, a small endoscopy center south of San Francisco.
A state inspection report said the center had pressed its new receptionist into duty to disinfect medical devices that probe patients' colons — with no formal training. The center failed to protect patients and had "ineffective infection-control policies which did not address hiring … of qualified individuals," the report concluded.
Something else happened that day as well. The Accreditation Association for Ambulatory Health Care, or AAAHC, renewed its approval of the center, which the agency describes as a "widely recognized symbol of quality" to patients and health insurers.
Medicare involuntarily decertified the facility a month later, which meant the federal agency would no longer pay for seniors' care at the center. But with private accreditation still in place, private insurers would be likely to continue funding care there.
Dr. Michael Bishop, a former California medical board member, said the case exposes a gap in state oversight if a center falls below one overseer's standard but meets another's. "You want no one to have easier [approval] process than any other one," he said. "That's quite egregious."
Kevin Calisher, president of the surgery center management firm Calisher & Associates, said his company took over management of the center in 2017, and that he could not comment on Medicare's findings.
AAAHC said in a statement that it could not discuss individual facilities.
The medical board's statement said Medicare is not required to notify the board when it decertifies a surgical center. "Now that this situation has been brought to the Board's attention, however, the Board will be looking into the matter," the statement said.
The Case Of 'Doctor' Davis
On April 9, 2015, an inspector from AAAHC arrived to perform an initial inspection of Pacific Liposculpture, which had been operating since 2011.
The inspectors' checklist included a review of complaints filed against the center by a state "licensure board." Davis had already been publicly accused by the state physician assistant board of engaging in the unlawful practice of medicine and gross negligence for failing to appropriately care for patients who experienced complications.
The inspector checked the box for "substantial compliance" and awarded the center approval through April 2018.
That decision was "enraging actually, outrageous," said Todd Glanz, a San Diego-area attorney. He represents a patient, Cecilia O'Neill, who went to the center for liposuction a few weeks after it was accredited.
O'Neill returned a few days after her May 28, 2015, procedure, complaining of pain, dizziness and signs of infection, her lawsuit alleges. But she claims her condition got worse. On June 9, 2015, she went to an emergency room, where she was told she had sepsis and needed emergency surgery followed by a stay in the ICU, according to her lawsuit.
Glanz said O'Neill was left with a hospital bill of nearly $200,000 and ongoing disfigurement. Davis and Dr. Harrison Robbins, the facility's former medical director and other owner, have denied wrongdoing and are fighting the ongoing lawsuit.
The following year, in February 2016, Davis faced an eight-day administrative hearing over whether he should keep his license as a physician assistant. A central issue was whether he truly worked under a doctor's supervision, as the law requires, or hired a figurehead who would exert little control.
One 2010 email discussed in court was by Davis, saying he hoped his new supervising physician, Dr. Jerrell Borup, would not be "another clumsy physician getting in the way."
His attorney presented experts and argued that he should keep his license. At its conclusion, the administrative judge revoked his license and reached a searing conclusion.
Davis "purposefully and intentionally set out to create a business arrangement that looked legitimate on paper," Judge Susan Boyle wrote, "but allowed him to manipulate the system and run a liposuction business without the interference of a physician."
The two former medical directors of the center were accused by the Medical Board of California of "aiding and abetting" Davis' unlicensed practice of medicine. Neither doctor actively supervised Davis, who performed all the procedures, the accusations say.
Davis has denied wrongdoing in each proceeding and declined to comment for this report through an attorney. One of the former medical directors, Borup, surrendered his license in 2016. The other, Dr. Harrison Robbins, is fighting the medical board's similar case against him. The controversy did not deter AAAHC, which earlier this year approved the center through April 2021.
Robert Frank, a San Diego attorney who represented Davis and Robbins, said Robbins has retired and the public should have no concerns about Davis' ongoing administrative role at Pacific Liposculpture.
"[Davis] knows the business, he knows the procedure and he knows he's being watched and scrutinized" during the ongoing legal case, Frank said.
Davis contested his license revocation but lost that case in Sacramento Superior Court. He's now challenging that decision in appeals court.
Betsy Imholz, former director of special projects for Consumers Union, who reviewed the findings for this report, said the case was shocking. "There are huge gaps in California law, clearly," she said.
Two Deaths — And Then A Green Light
The families of two women in their 40s sued Diamond Surgery Center in Encino, Calif., and its surgeon, alleging wrongdoing in their 2014 and 2015 deaths.
The incidents did not stop the facility from getting accreditation in 2017 from the Chicago-based Joint Commission, the nation's most prominent accreditor.
Oneyda Mata, 40, was the first to die, on March 29, 2014. According to her autopsy, she called 911 from her car, struggling to breathe. Although her liposuction at the surgery center was 22 days earlier, the autopsy lists Diamond Surgery Center as the "place of injury" in her death from a blood clot lodged in her lung.
Dr. Roya Dardashti admitted no fault, but reached a $200,000 settlement in the family's lawsuit. The sum became public only because the family filed legal records saying Dardashti failed to make some payments.
MaryCruz Elizalde, 42, was the second to die, on Dec. 10, 2015. She was in recovery after a tummy tuck and liposuction at Diamond Surgery Center when she went into cardiac arrest and was taken to a hospital. Her autopsy says she died from internal bleeding and shock "as a consequence of complications of surgery."
Elizalde's partner's lawsuit alleged that an unlicensed anesthesia provider at the center was involved in her care. The case was voluntarily dismissed after the partner was imprisoned in an unrelated fraud case.
State law bars doctors from operating in an unapproved facility at levels of anesthesia that rob people of their "life-preserving" reflexes.
Whether the facility operated outside of that limit or erred in either woman's care wasn't noted when the center got its initial approval to operate in 2017.
With a slightly different, new name, Diamond Surgical Institute, the same location and same lead doctor, the facility now appears to have full accreditation on the state's website for surgery centers.
Joint Commission spokeswoman Katherine Bronk said the center was awarded "limited temporary accreditation" in 2017 and 2018 after "limited" inspections. Those limited inspections did not include a check of patient medical records because they're designed for facilities "not actively caring for patients."
Bronk said in an email that past problems might not affect an accreditation decision.
"If the surgery center had not been following the law but made compliance with the law part of its corrective action plan, it would not necessarily be denied accreditation," she wrote. "As a private accreditor, our goal is to help organizations identify deficiencies in care and correct them as quickly and sustainably as possible."
Dardashti did not respond to calls or email requests for an interview. The medical board declined to say whether it has received a report of a patient death from the facility since 2014, saying the information is "confidential."
State law requires accreditors to perform a "reasonable investigation" of a surgery center's past, which includes a check to see if its doctors have a license, which Dardashti did. The checks should go deeper, said Imholz, of Consumers Union.
"If past is prologue, we should be looking at what the key players, owners and doctors involved, what they have in their records," she said. "It's relevant; it should be looked at."
With frustration growing among Americans who are being charged exorbitant prices for medical treatment, a bipartisan group of senators Tuesday unveiled a plan to protect patients from surprise bills and high charges from hospitals or doctors who are not in their insurance networks.
The draft legislation, which sponsors said is designed to prevent medical bankruptcies, targets three key consumer concerns:
Treatment for an emergency by a doctor who is not part of the patient's insurance network at a hospital that is also outside that network. The patients would be required to pay out-of-pocket the amount required by their insurance plan. The hospital or doctor could not bill the patient for the remainder of the bill, a practice known as "balance billing." The hospital and doctor could seek additional payments from the patient's insurer under state regulations or through a formula established in the legislation.
Treatment by an out-of-network doctor or other provider at a hospital that is in the patient's insurance network. Patients would pay only what is required by their plans. Again, the doctors could seek more payments from the plans based on formulas set up by state rules or through the federal formula.
Mandated notification to emergency patients, once they are stabilized, that they could run up excess charges if they are in an out-of-network hospital. The patients would be required to sign a statement acknowledging that they had been told their insurance might not cover their expenses, and they could seek treatment elsewhere.
"Our proposal protects patients in those emergency situations where current law does not, so that they don't receive a surprise bill that is basically uncapped by anything but a sense of shame," Sen. Bill Cassidy (R-La.) said in his announcement about the legislation.
Kevin Lucia, a senior research professor at Georgetown University's Center on Health Insurance Reforms who had not yet read the draft legislation, said the measure was aimed at a big problem.
"Balance billing is ripe for a federal solution," he said. States regulate only some health plans and that "leaves open a vast number of people that aren't covered by those laws."
Federal law regulates health plans offered by many larger companies and unions that are "self-funded." Sixty-one percent of privately insured employees get their insurance this way. Those plans pay claims out of their own funds, rather than buying an insurance policy. Federal law does not prohibit balance billing in these plans.
Cassidy's office said, however, that this legislation would plug that gap.
In addition to Cassidy, the legislation is being offered by Sens. Michael Bennet (D-Colo.), Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa), Tom Carper (D-Del.), Todd Young (R-Ind.) and Claire McCaskill (D-Mo.).
In a statement to Kaiser Health News, Bennet said, "In Colorado, we hear from patients facing unexpected bills with astronomical costs even when they've received a service from an in-network provider. That's why Senator Cassidy and I are leading a bipartisan group of senators to address this all-too-common byproduct of limited price transparency."
Emergency rooms and out-of-network hospitals aren't the only sources of balance bills, Lucia said. He mentioned that both ground and air ambulances can leave patients responsible for surprisingly high costs as well.
Lucia said he was encouraged that both Democrats and Republicans signed on to the draft legislation.
"Any effort at the federal level is encouraging because this has been a challenging issue at the state level to make progress on," Lucia said.
Starting next year, Medicare Advantage plans will be able to add restrictions on expensive, injectable drugs administered by doctors to treat cancer, rheumatoid arthritis, macular degeneration and other serious diseases. Under the new rules, these private Medicare insurance plans could require patients to try cheaper drugs first. If those are not effective, then the patients could receive the more expensive medication prescribed by their doctors.
Starting next year, Medicare Advantage plans will be able to add restrictions on expensive, injectable drugs administered by doctors to treat cancer, rheumatoid arthritis, macular degeneration and other serious diseases.
Under the new rules, these private Medicare insurance plans could require patients to try cheaper drugs first. If those are not effective, then the patients could receive the more expensive medication prescribed by their doctors.
Insurers use such "step therapy" to control drug costs in the employer-based insurance market as well as in Medicare's stand-alone Part D prescription drug benefit, which generally covers medicine purchased at retail pharmacies or through the mail. The new option allows Advantage plans — an alternative to traditional, government-run Medicare — to extend that cost-control strategy to these physician-administered drugs.
In traditional Medicare, which covers 40 million older or disabled adults, those medications given by doctors are covered under Medicare Part B, which includes outpatient services, and step therapy is not allowed.
About 20 million people have private Medicare Advantage policies, which include coverage for Part D and Part B medications.
Some physicians and patient advocates are concerned that the pursuit of lower Part B drug prices could endanger very sick Medicare Advantage patients if they can't be treated promptly with the medicine that was their doctor’s first choice.
Critics of the new policy, part of the administration’s efforts to fulfill President Donald Trump's promise to cut drug prices, say it lacks some crucial details, including how to determine when a less expensive drug isn't effective.
"Do you have to lose vision before you are allowed to use” medication approved by the Food and Drug Administration, asked Richard O'Neal, vice president for market access for Regeneron, which makes Eylea, a medicine that is injected into the eye to treat macular degeneration. In 2016, Medicare paid $2.2 billion for Eylea prescriptions for patients in traditional Medicare, more than any other Part B drug, according to government data.
Medicare Advantage insurers spend about $12 billion on Part B drugs, compared to the $25.7 billion traditional Medicare spent in 2016 on such drugs. Insurers that adopt the step therapy policy can apply it only to new prescriptions — medicine a patient hasn't received in the past 108 days.
The change in policy gives insurers a new bargaining tool: Pharmaceutical makers may want to compete by cutting prices to get their product on the plans’ list of preferred lists, allowing patients to receive the medicines without step therapy pre-conditions. That "strengthens their negotiating position with the manufacturers," Medicare chief Seema Verma said when she unveiled the policy last month.
It could also save patients money since they usually pay a portion of the Part B prescription cost. In addition, Medicare is requiring plans to share the savings with enrollees.
"Competition is a big factor in price concessions," said Daniel Nam, executive director of federal programs at America's Health Insurance Plans, an industry trade group. But insurers haven't had much leverage to negotiate lower prices for these drugs without strategies like step therapy, he said.
Federal health officials told insurers in a memo last month that they could substitute a less expensive Part B drug to treat a medical condition the FDA has not approved it for, if insurers can document that it is safe and effective. Yet coverage for a Part D drug is usually denied for a condition that doesn’t have FDA approval, according to the Center for Medicare Advocacy, which helps beneficiaries with appeals.
Several representatives of medical specialty groups recently met with Alex Azar, the secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services, to express their concerns.
Dr. Stephen Grubbs, vice president of clinical affairs at the American Society of Clinical Oncology, was among them. He said Azar told then the new step therapy policy would not have a big impact on cancer treatment.
Patients and their physicians who encounter problems getting specific Part B drugs can appeal using the “process that we have throughout the Medicare Advantage program and Part D plans," advised Verma.
Under this system, if patients don't want to follow their insurance plans' requirements to try a less expensive medication first, they can request an exception to step therapy.
"They need their doctor's support," said Francine Chuchanis, director of entitlement rights at Direction Home, an Area Agencies on Aging organization that serves older adults and people with disabilities in northeastern Ohio. The physician must tell the plan why its restrictions should be lifted and provide extensive documentation.
The plans have 24 hours to respond to an expedited exception request and 72 hours for a regular one. During this time, "people are going without their drugs," said Sarah Jane Blake, a Medicare counselor for New York’s StateWide Senior Action Council.
However, Dr. David Daikh, president of the American College of Rheumatology, said plans frequently do not meet the 72-hour deadline.
"We raised this point with the secretary and his staff," he said. "They replied that they felt that there would not be a backlog for this program."
If a plan denies the exemption, patients can file a "reconsideration" appeal. During this process, patients still can't get their medicine unless they pay for it out-of-pocket.
Only a tiny fraction of Medicare Advantage beneficiaries filed a reconsideration appeal last year. Of the 3,498 cases that were decided, just 1 in 10 beneficiaries won decisions fully or partially in their favor, according to Medicare statistics.
"That's disheartening to say the least," said Blake, but she wasn't surprised. "Beneficiaries are intimidated by the hoops they have to go through and often give up trying to purchase the drugs prescribed for them."
Doctors and hospitals love to talk about the patients they’ve saved with precision medicine. But the patients who succumb to advanced cancer despite the advanced testing still vastly outnumber the rare successes.
Facing incurable breast cancer at age 55, MaryAnne DiCanto put her faith in "precision medicine" — in which doctors try to match patients with drugs that target the genetic mutations in their tumors. She underwent repeated biopsies to identify therapies that might help.
"She believed in it wholeheartedly," said her husband, Scott Primiano of Amityville, N.Y., a flood-insurance broker. "You live on hope for so long, it's hard to let go."
Around this point in the average news story, readers would learn how DiCanto — mother to a blended family of five — took a chance on an experimental drug that no one expected to work.
She would be the scrappy protagonist whose determination to "keep fighting" enabled her to beat the odds — allowing us to celebrate the triumph of modern science and worry a bit less about our own mortality.
But there's a serious problem with talking about precision medicine for cancer this way.
It misleads the public.
In spite of DiCanto's high hopes, none of it helped. DiCanto died last year at age 59.
Doctors and hospitals love to talk about the patients they've saved with precision medicine, and reporters love to write about them. But the people who die — patients like DiCanto, who succumb to advanced cancer despite the advanced testing — still vastly outnumber the rare successes.
"There are very few instances in which we can look at a genomic test and pick a drug off the shelf and say, 'That will work,'" said Dr. Nikhil Wagle, a cancer specialist at Boston's Dana-Farber Cancer Institute who helped develop precision-medicine tests. "That's our goal in the long run, but in 2018 we're not there yet."
Reflecting on his family's experience with "precision" treatment, Primiano said, "You think it's going to be more precise, like a laser versus a shotgun. But it's still a shotgun."
There has been real progress, of course.
Testing for genetic mutations has become the standard of care in lung cancer, melanoma and a handful of other tumor types. But the number of people with advanced cancer eligible for these approaches is just 9 percent to 15 percent, experts estimate. These targeted therapies help about half of patients who try them, said Dr. Vinay Prasad, an associate professor at Oregon Health and Science University.
Targeted therapies tend to be less successful in patients like DiCanto, who have exhausted all standard treatments. In a large study published last year in Cancer Discovery, precision medicine failed to help 93 percent of the 1,000 patients who signed up for the study.
At the most recent meeting of the American Society of Clinical Oncology — the largest cancer meeting in the world — researchers presented four precision-medicine studies. Two were total failures. The other two weren't much better, failing to shrink tumors 92 percent and 95 percent of the time.
The studies received almost no news coverage.
Some experts, including Dr. David Hyman of New York's Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, say that such testing should be available to everyone with advanced cancer, because no one can predict which individual might have a rare mutation that can be targeted with a new or experimental drug. When patients respond to these drugs, they tend to do very well, and some survive much longer than expected.
But Hyman acknowledged that many people who pursue precision medicine will be disappointed, because testing won't lead to a new treatment. Precision medicine "is not addressing the needs of the majority of cancer patients," he said.
Many of the doctors I interview as a health care reporter are uncomfortable talking about patients who don't survive.
While acknowledging that not all patients are helped by tumor sequencing, they quickly pivot to talking about people they've saved. They rush past the disappointing present and fast-forward to a future in which every patient gets the treatment she or he needs. If you don't listen carefully, you could easily be led to believe those future cures are already here.
There are very few instances in which we can look at a genomic test and pick a drug off the shelf and say, 'That will work.'
Dr. Nikhil Wagle, cancer specialist at Boston's Dana-Farber Cancer Institute
Against this backdrop of hope and desperation, how are patients supposed to make informed decisions?
DiCanto gave precision medicine everything she had, including biopsies from her lungs and liver, where her cancer had spread. Over 2½ years, her doctor sent seven blood and tissue samples to specialized labs for "next-generation sequencing," which can quickly scan hundreds of genes. The tests aim to locate a cancer's Achilles' heel — a genetic vulnerability that can be targeted with a drug.
DiCanto's first genomic test matched her to a newly approved drug she would have tried anyway, Primiano said. When it stopped working, she had another biopsy.
That time, tests matched her to a different drug approved for breast cancer. But it proved so toxic that it "nearly killed her," Primiano said.
Additional tests matched DiCanto to drugs available only in clinical trials. Eligibility criteria for clinical trials are notoriously strict, however, and often exclude people who've been heavily treated with other medications. DiCanto wasn't eligible for any of them. Even when patients are eligible for trials, many turn them down. They're just too frail and sick to travel to the metropolitan areas where most trials are run.
Although DiCanto benefited from standard cancer treatments, none of the targeted therapies recommended through genetic testing extended her life, Primiano said.
"She didn't give up," Primiano said. "Her body gave up. Her body just couldn't take it anymore."
Primiano said patients should remember that precision medicine is in its infancy. Although scientists have identified tens of thousands of genetic "variations" — changes from normal DNA that could play a role in cancer — doctors have only a few dozen drugs with which to target them. In the majority of cases, genetic mutations are of "unknown significance"; they're essentially useless, because scientists don't know if they affect how patients respond to drugs.
Even when drugs are a good match for a specific mutation, they don't always work. A targeted therapy that works in melanoma, for example, doesn't help people with colorectal cancer — even when patients have the exact same mutation, said Wagle, a member of the medical advisory board for Living Beyond Breast Cancer, a patient advocacy group in which DiCanto was active.
Paying for tests and treatment poses its own hurdles. Insurers often tell patients that next-generation sequencing is unproven. Even when insurers agree to cover the testing, they won't necessarily cover nonstandard or experimental treatments that sequencing companies recommend.
Primiano, a insurance broker, said his family was able to handle the costs: $500,000 out-of-pocket on his wife's cancer care over 13 years. But managing his wife's cancer "was a full-time job — doing the research, finding the clinical trials, dealing with the insurance companies, managing the money."
He worries about people with fewer resources, especially patients tempted to drain their savings account to pay for a treatment with little to no chance of working.
The very words "precision medicine" suggest a high rate of success, Primiano said. While its successes should be celebrated, its failures must be acknowledged and tallied, reminding us how much is left to learn. When patients and their families have so much on the line, they deserve to understand what they're paying for.
"Let's not pretend this is something it isn't," Primiano said. "I'm not saying we shouldn't try it. I just don't want people to have false hope."
This move could reduce fraudulent prescriptions to street dealers or drug-seeking people with active addictions and cut down on costly hospital stays for overdoses.
The largest insurer in Tennessee has announced it will no longer cover prescriptions for what was once a blockbuster pain reliever. It's the latest insurance company to turn against OxyContin, whose maker, Purdue Pharma, faces dozens of lawsuits related to its high-pressure sales tactics around the country and contribution to the opioid crisis. Last fall, Cigna and Florida Blue both dropped coverage of the drug.
Top officials at BlueCross BlueShield of Tennessee say newer abuse-deterrent opioids work better, and starting in January, the insurer covering 3.4 million Tennesseans will pay for those opioids made by other pharmaceutical companies instead.
"We felt it was time to move to those products and remove Oxycontin from the formulary, which does still continue to have a higher street value," said Natalie Tate, the insurer's vice president of pharmacy.
OxyContin was reformulated in 2010 to make the drug harder to misuse — but it's still possible to crush or liquefy in order to snort or inject it.
The latest long-acting opioids that BlueCross BlueShield of Tennessee is going to start covering — Xtampza and Morphabond — are still more difficult to misuse, according to the company and some pharmaceutical experts.
Motives Questioned
In a page-long response a reporter's query, a Purdue Pharma spokesman pointed out that no opioid drug is "abuse proof" or less addictive, accusing BCBST of financial motives that remove choices for many patients.
"We believe that patients should have access to FDA-approved products with abuse-deterrent properties," Purdue's Robert Josephson wrote in an email. "The recent decision by BlueCross BlueShield of Tennessee limits prescribers' options to help address the opioid crisis."
In response, BCBST's Tate argued that ditching one of the most recognized names in opioids is not designed to save money, though it could in a roundabout way.
This move could reduce fraudulent prescriptions to street dealers or drug-seeking people with active addictions and cut down on costly hospital stays for overdoses, said pain consultant and pharmacist Jeff Fudin, an adjunct professor at Albany College in New York.
"It's a smart idea to use dosage forms that have proven to have been better abuse-deterrent formulations," he said. "In the long run, it actually will cost them a whole lot less money."
Fudin said he's often at odds with insurers over their decisions about which drugs to cover, but he applauds this decision, which he expects more insurers to follow.
Alternative Therapies
Practicing pain physicians in Tennessee — who regularly battle with insurance companies — also approve of the change, though they said OxyContin was already falling out of favor. And they argue trading one opioid for slightly safer ones doesn't address a larger gripe that physicians have with insurers over paying for other, non-addictive types of treatment.
"We will have denials and prior authorizations on a muscle relaxer, and we will have no issue getting an opioid through the insurance company," said Dr. Stephanie Vanterpool, an anesthesiologist at the University of Tennessee and the president-elect of the Tennessee Pain Society.
"The physicians or the doctor's offices jump through hoops to get the better medication for the patients," said Vanterpool. "And when I say better medication, I mean the medication that's treating the cause of the pain, not just the medication that's covering up the pain."
BlueCross BlueShield of Tennessee is adding some alternative pain therapies in the coming year, according to its announcement last week. But Vanterpool would like to see a philosophical about-face.
Not to say OxyContin won't be sorely missed by some patients.
"There are plenty of people who benefit from that drug," said Terri Lewis, a patient advocate and rehabilitation specialist from Cookeville, Tenn.
She's suspicious of BCBST's motives since the insurer may be blamed for its role in the opioid crisis. Embattled Purdue Pharma could be a convenient scapegoat.
"Maybe this is a good decision," Lewis said. "But it smells like a political decision."
And this would be just the latest decision inserting politics into a nuanced medical problem.
A Blessing In Disguise?
The Tennessee legislature instituted some of the tightest opioid prescribing regulations in the country this year — a three-day limit for most people who aren't already on opioids. And even long-term pain patients are having trouble getting refills.
John Venable of Kingsport, Tenn., was shown the door by his pain clinic in July after more than a decade on oxycodone — a generic, short-acting version of OxyContin.
"I just felt like I was in a hopeless state, like, 'there is no help for John,'" he recalled.
At their worst, he said his headaches get so debilitating "that death would be a relief." Despite his dread, he's noticed something surprising over the last few months without opioids — his crippling headaches haven't gotten that much worse, if at all.
"It very well might be a blessing in disguise," Venable said.
The retired builder and one-time pastor said he prays that those losing OxyContin also will get to use the moment as an opportunity, though he knows many can't cut ties with opioids. And he worries some will turn to more dangerous drugs off the street or even contemplate ending their own lives.
Experts point out that the number of opioid prescriptions has already been falling around the country. And in Tennessee, BCBS has experienced a 26 percent drop in opioid prescription claims over three years.
But restricting legal access to opioids hasn't turned back the rise in overdose deaths, which hit a record in Tennessee and nationwide last year.
Despite Republican resistance to the federal health law, the percentage of Americans without health insurance in 2017 remained the same as during the last year of the Obama administration, according to a closely watched report from the Census Bureau released Wednesday.
However, the uninsured rate did rise in 14 states. It was not immediately clear why, because the states varied dramatically by location, politics and whether they had expanded Medicaid under the federal health law. Those states included Texas, Florida, Vermont, Minnesota and Oregon.
The uninsured rate fell in three states: California, New York and Louisiana.
An estimated 8.8 percent of the population, or about 28.5 million people, did not have health insurance coverage at any point in 2017. That was slightly higher than the 28.1 million in 2016, but did not affect the uninsured rate. The difference was not statistically significant, according to the Census report.
About 17 percent of Americans were uninsured in 2010, the year the Affordable Care Act was enacted.
The Census numbers are considered the gold standard for tracking who has insurance because the survey samples are so large.
Analysts credit the health law with helping drive down the number of uninsured. But also a factor: The proportion of people without insurance typically falls as unemployment rates decline. That's because more people can get health coverage at work or can better afford buying insurance on their own.
The nation's unemployment rate has generally been falling since before 2011 and was 4.1 percent for the last quarter of 2017, the lowest level since before the Great Recession began in December 2007.
Critics of the health law said the report emphasized its deficiencies. "Today's report is another reminder that Obamacare has priced insurance out of the reach of millions of working families," Marie Fishpaw and Doug Badger of the Heritage Foundation said in a statement. "Despite a growing economy and very low unemployment rate, the uninsured rate remains virtually unchanged."
But the law's supporters instead saw the glass as half full.
"These numbers show the resilience of the Affordable Care Act," said Judith Solomon, senior fellow at the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities. She said people still value the coverage they receive from the health law even as it's been under attack by President Donald Trump and Republicans who want to repeal it. "It's good news because the numbers show the strength of the ACA but bad news in that we have not seen further progress."
Solomon expressed concern, though, about the large number of states seeing uninsured rates increase.
Uninsured rates last year ranged from a high of more than 17 percent in Texas to low of just under 3 percent in Massachusetts.
West Virginia had one of the sharpest increases in uninsured.
About 14 percent of the state's residents were uninsured in 2013 before the ACA's premium subsidies and Medicaid expansion began. That rate fell by nearly two-thirds by 2016. Last year, however, West Virginia's uninsured rate crept up 0.8 percentage points to 6.1 percent, according to the Census report.
Carol Bush, 58, of Elkins, W.Va., expects to lose coverage Oct. 1 because her job is ending.
It's an unfortunate irony: Elkins has served for the past three years as a navigator helping people in her community find coverage in the health law marketplaces. Federal officials have largely scrapped that program.
The Trump administration cut funding by more than 80 percent during the past two years, saying it had no proof that navigators were helping people find coverage. Only if consumers signed up in the presence of the navigator was a session considered a success.
Bush had coverage through the University of West Virginia, which has a navigator contract that ends at the end of this month. Without employer coverage, Bush said, the cheapest insurance she could find would be about $1,100 a month. She won't qualify for a federal subsidy to lower her premium because of her family's income. Her husband is insured through Medicare.
Although she said she has strongly considered going without insurance because of the cost, she knows she needs it.
"In all honesty, I've always had some kind of health insurance, and the thought of being without it worries me," she said. "I can't risk getting seriously ill and incurring enormous debt at this point in my life. Peace of mind has a value too."
Shenandoah Community Health Center, a federally funded health clinic in Martinsburg, W.Va., has started to see an increase in uninsured patients the past year, although it's still below levels it saw before the health law's coverage expansion began in 2014, said CEO Michael Hassing. Hassing said he believes many patients have dropped coverage, thinking the ACA's individual mandate was repealed.
"Folks say, 'I don't need to have it anymore,' and they let it go," he said.
While the GOP failed last year to repeal the law, Congress was able to strip out one of its key features — the individual penalty for not having coverage. The vote last December eliminated that penalty starting in 2019 — meaning Americans are still required this year to have health coverage or face the consequences on their 2018 taxes.
A proposal to sharply cut a drug discount program that many hospitals rely on drew some 1,400 comments when the Trump administration announced its plan last year. Hundreds appeared to come from patients across the country — pleas from average Americans whose treatments for diseases such as cancer depend on costly medicines.
But a review of the responses found that some individuals were not aware they apparently had become part of an organized campaign to oppose what's known as the "340B" program. Some had no memory of signing anything, much less sending their opinions about it.
Of the 1,406 comments that specifically mentioned 340B — part of several thousand comments submitted on a broad proposal to revise medical payment systems — about half included the same or similar wording and were submitted anonymously, an analysis by Kaiser Health News found. Those comments lamented "abuse" of the drug discounts, faulted hospitals for being "greedy" and used phrasing such as "quality, affordable, and accessible."
Two that were duplicated hundreds of times made the very same grammatical mistake.
They "are clearly related," said Robert Leonard, a forensic linguistic expert at Hofstra University whose team analyzed the submissions for KHN.
In fact, the wording in the duplicate comments tracks language in a formal letter submitted to regulators by a nonprofit trade group, the Community Oncology Alliance, which receives funding from pharmaceutical companies.
Cancer survivor Janice Choiniere's name is on a public comment saying reform of the 340B program will help "those suffering from this insidious disease." But when reached by phone, the 69-year-old Florida resident said she had "no idea" what the program is and didn't recall signing a petition.
"My first thought is, I don't fill out and send in responses casually," Choiniere said. "I'm hoping nobody lifted my information."
The quarter-century-old federal program requires pharmaceutical companies to sell certain drugs at steep discounts to eligible hospitals and clinics, which don't have to share their savings with patients. Critics, including Republican lawmakers, have questioned what the facilities do with the money. Doctors in private practice, who are not eligible for the reduced rates, have warned that the program's continued growth makes it susceptible to exploitation.
The administration's plan, finalized in November, reduced by $1.6 billion annually what the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services pays for the targeted drugs. In late July, the agency proposed expanding those payment cuts.
As with any proposed rule, the purpose of requesting public comments is to help lawmakers and regulators consider the potential effects of their actions. But the pattern identified in the 340B comments, which were posted online by CMS, suggests the system can easily be manipulated. Patients may be especially vulnerable to being used.
"It feels like inappropriate influence," said Peter Ubel, a physician and behavioral scientist at Duke University's Fuqua School of Business. "When you have a life-threatening illness, you need to know you can trust your physician to care about your interests ahead of their own."
KHN reached 10 individuals whose names appeared in the comments — either as a signature on a personal note or on a petition also signed by others. All were patients, former patients or caregivers seen at private practices connected to the Community Oncology Alliance.
Two patients confirmed they had written notes, although they couldn't say when. Several said they must have signed or written something amid the paperwork handed to them at a doctor's office during appointments or in follow-up correspondence. A few drew mental blanks.
The name of an 84-year-old melanoma patient shows as an online signature in an individual public comment that described the program's reform as a matter of "life or death." But the Florida man, who asked not to be identified, had little recollection of writing it. His wife remembered that he signed something at his doctor's office "out front on a clipboard" before getting his biweekly cancer treatment.
"If my doctor wanted me to sign something, I would sign it for him," the man said. He "saved my life."
Julie Yarbrough, whose husband received treatment at New England Cancer Specialists in Maine, remembered signing a petition "at the [doctor's] check-in area" about hospitals abusing 340B discounts. She was the only individual contacted who had a basic understanding of the program.
The patients reached by KHN sought care at either New England Cancer Specialists, which has three locations in Maine, or Florida Cancer Specialists, which runs nearly 100 treatment centers in that state. Data posted on the federal website regulations.gov show that more than 60 percent of the 340B-specific comments originated in Florida.
"We do a good job of educating patients and letting them know how to get involved," said Michael Diaz, director of patient advocacy for Florida Cancer Specialists and vice president on the Community Oncology Alliance's executive committee. "They need to be able to contribute and give their opinion."
Steve D'Amato, executive director of New England Cancer Specialists and an Alliance board member, mentioned patients' support in a letter accompanying a petition posted multiple times to the government portal Oct. 10. The petition included the trade group's website; D'Amato noted that "patient signatures obtained in just 2 days" were attached.
When asked recently about patients who didn't recall signing something, D'Amato said he did not have the petition in front of him and referred all questions to the Alliance's executive director, Ted Okon. In an interview, Okon denied that the organization had any role in soliciting patient comments.
"We didn't do anything with patient petitions," said Okon, although talking points and material were sent to practices nationwide for them to use when submitting comments. "This is what we do in terms of advocating."
Susannah Rose, scientific director of research in the Cleveland Clinic's patient experience office, said there is "always a worry about coercion" when doctors make a request of patients, but more so when oncologists do the asking.
"Cancer patients often feel very much in the hands of their oncologists, and they are often suffering from significant distress," said Rose, who serves on the ethics committee of the American Society of Clinical Oncology.
The Washington-based Alliance represents private oncology practices as well as about 50 corporate members, according to its website. Formed in 2003 when Congress approved Medicare's prescription drug program, it was a leading critic of a controversial 2016 proposal to change how CMS paid for some drugs in Medicare. The group's revenue nearly quadrupled that year, to $16.3 million from $4.4 million in 2015, according to federal tax filings. The proposal never became reality.
Pharmaceutical giants Sanofi, Pfizer, Eli Lilly, Bristol-Myers Squibb and Merck each confirmed paying annual dues of $75,000 to the Alliance. The five companies also paid it nearly $1 million between 2014 and 2017 for research papers, conferences, filming and patient education, according to corporate transparency reports.
Walgreens and PhRMA, the pharmaceutical industry trade group, also confirmed membership but did not disclose how much they pay in dues. Okon said corporate membership fees range from $25,000 to $75,000 annually while individual oncologists and their practices pay "usually on the order of a thousand dollars, two thousand dollars."
Drug manufacturers do not influence the Alliance's position on 340B, he said, noting in an email that "correlation is not causality."
After the comment period ended, CMS slashed 340B payments to hospitals by $1.6 billion annually. Medicare had been paying hospitals 6 percent above a drug's average sales price; it now pays them 22.5 percent less than the average sales price.
CMS Administrator Seema Verma and Eric Hargan, deputy secretary of the Health and Human Services Department, emphasized that public comments played into their decision. In the 1,133-page final rule, they said they shared the concern that current Medicare payments "are well in excess of the overhead and acquisition costs" for drugs bought under the program.
"We thank the commenters for their support," they wrote.
While states increasingly pass laws to protect patients from balance bills as more hospitals and doctors go after patients to collect, the federal ERISA law does not prohibit balance billing.
When Drew Calver had a heart attack last year, his health plan paid nearly $56,000 for the 44-year-old's four-day emergency hospital stay at St. David's Medical Center in Austin, Texas, a hospital that was not in his insurance network. But the hospital charged Calver another $109,000. That sum — a so-called balance bill — was the difference between what the hospital and his insurer thought his care was worth.
Though in-network hospitals must accept pre-contracted rates from health plans, out-of-network hospitals can try to bill as they like.
Calver's bill eventually was reduced to $332 after Kaiser Health News and NPR published a story about it last month. Yet his experience shines a light on an unintended consequence of a wide-ranging federal law, which potentially blindsides millions of consumers.
The federal law — called ERISA, for the Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974 — regulates company and union health plans that are "self-funded," like Calver's. That means they pay claims out of their own funds, even though they may be administered by a major insurer such as Cigna or Aetna. And while states increasingly pass laws to protect patients from balance bills as more hospitals and doctors go after patients to collect, ERISA law does not prohibit balance billing.
Although Texas is one of nearly two dozen states that provide consumers with some degree of protection against surprise balance bills, those state laws don't apply to self-funded plans.
It's a fairly common problem. About 60 percent of workers who get coverage through their job have self-insured plans, and 18 percent of people with coverage through a large employer who were admitted to the hospital in 2016 received at least one bill from an out-of-network provider, according to an analysis by the Kaiser Family Foundation. (Kaiser Health News is an editorially independent program of the foundation.)
Health researchers and advocates have identified a number of potential solutions that could tackle the problem at the federal or state level. The courts are another option. Yet whether these efforts are politically feasible when health care is in play as a partisan football is another matter.
Polarized views on appropriate reimbursement levels for medical services "limit stakeholders at both the federal and state level from making progress," said Kevin Lucia, a research professor at Georgetown's Center on Health Insurance Reforms, who has analyzed state laws that restrict balance billing.
A look at options that experts say might address the problem:
Change Federal Law
The simplest way to stop surprise bills would be through restrictions imposed by federal legislation that would apply to both state-regulated policies sold by insurers and employer-sponsored self-funded health plans, which are federally regulated.
There's a precedent for this. The Affordable Care Act added provisions that apply to both types of plans. That law requires plans that cover dependents to allow children to stay on their parents' plans until they turn 26, for example, and cover preventive benefits without charging patients anything out-of-pocket.
New legislation could plug a big loophole in the ACA. The health law offered some consumer protections for out-of-network emergency care, one of the biggest trouble spots for balance billing. Not only do people sometimes wind up at out-of-network hospitals when they have an emergency, but even if they visit an in-network hospital, the emergency physicians, specialists and other providers such as pathologists and labs may not be in their health plan's network.
The ACA limited a patient's cost sharing for emergency services to what they would face if they were at an in-network facility. It also established standards for how much health plans have to pay the hospital or doctors for that care.
But the law didn't prohibit out-of-network emergency doctors, hospitals and other providers, such as ambulance services, from balance billing consumers for the amounts their health plan didn't pay.
Federal legislation could close that loophole by prohibiting balance billing for emergency services, as well as hospital admissions related to that emergency care.
Analysts at the University of Southern California-Brookings Schaeffer Initiative for Health Policy, who have suggested such a remedy, say the federal law could apply to any doctors and hospitals that participate in the Medicare program, as most do, to ensure that the effect would be widespread.
They also propose prohibiting balance billing in non-emergency situations when someone visits an in-network facility but receives care from out-of-network doctors or is referred for outpatient lab or diagnostic imaging that is outside of the person's health plan network.
Still, the deep political scars left by the health law battles would seem to preclude any bipartisan efforts in Washington to change it.
"I'd love to see any kind of federal action," said Loren Adler, associate director at the USC center, who co-authored the proposal. "It's just hard to be super optimistic about anything happening in the near future."
Revise Federal Regulations
The federal executive branch could also weigh in on fixing the problem for self-insured coverage. The Department of Labor could, for example, issue a ruling that clarifies that states can regulate provider payment, or require self-funded plans to participate in state dispute-resolution programs.
But experts say relying on regulatory changes to fix surprise bills may also be a nonstarter in this political climate.
"I don't foresee the administration taking a hard look at the limits of its powers under the ACA," said Sara Rosenbaum, professor of health law and policy at George Washington University.
Look To The States
More than 20 states have laws protecting consumers to some degree from surprise bills from out-of-network emergency providers or in-network hospitals if they're covered by a state-regulated insurance policy, according to an analysis by Georgetown researchers published by the Commonwealth Fund.
State laws vary. Texas, for example, requires that consumers in HMO plans be held harmless from balance billing in out-of-network emergency and in-network situations, but consumers in PPO plans can be balance-billed.
New York's law is more comprehensive, covering both types of plans and settings. New York protects consumers from liability for out-of-network emergency and other surprise bills, requires plans to disclose how they determine a reasonable provider payment and has a binding independent dispute-resolution process.
These laws typically don't apply to self-funded plans, however. But that could change. A New Jersey law that went into effect last month allows self-funded plans to opt in to the state's balance billing dispute-resolution process. If a federally regulated plan decides to participate in the state program, doctors, hospitals and labs would be prohibited from balance-billing those consumers, and any disputes will be handled through a binding arbitration process.
For self-funded employers, especially those who choose to pay their employees' surprise bills, "this provides for a more formal structure and some relief," said Wardell Sanders, president of the New Jersey Association of Health Plans.
There are other possibilities for addressing surprise bills at the state level, policy experts say. While states can't regulate self-funded health plans, they do regulate doctors and hospitals and other providers.
States could simply cap the amount that providers can charge for out-of-network care, for example, or prohibit practitioners like radiologists and pathologists, who don't deal directly with patients, from billing them for services, said Adler.
"As long as providers can charge whatever they please, the problem won't go away," said Adler.
Will The Courts Weigh In?
These billing disputes rarely end up in court, mainly because attorneys are hesitant to take them since there are no guaranteed attorney's fees.
A recent Colorado case was a rare success for a patient. A jury in June sided with Lisa French, a clerk at a trucking company, who was stunned by a $229,000 balance bill for spinal fusion surgery. Saying the charges were unreasonable, the jury knocked down her share of that bill to just $766.74.
The hospital was paid nearly $75,000 by her health coverage, an amount her insurer felt built in a fair profit margin, but the hospital claimed fell short.
That raises the question at the heart of many disputes over balance billing: What is a fair price?
Hospitals argue they should get whatever amount they set as charges on their master list of prices. Attorneys for patients, however, argue that a fair price should be closer to those discounted rates hospitals accept in their contracts with insurers.
Hospitals generally refuse to disclose those discounted rates, leaving patients fighting surprise bills little information about what other people pay.
Several recent court cases — including state Supreme Court rulings in Georgia and Texas — required hospitals to provide those discounted rates, although the rulings did not say those discounted prices are ultimately what patients would owe.
Thousands of cases across the country allege that enfeebled nursing home patients endured hospital treatments for sepsis that many of the lawsuits claim never should have happened.
Shana Dorsey first caught sight of the purplish wound on her father's lower back as he lay in a suburban Chicago hospital bed a few weeks before his death.
Her father, Willie Jackson, had grimaced as nursing aides turned his frail body, exposing the deep skin ulcer, also known as a pressure sore or bedsore.
"That was truly the first time I saw how much pain my dad was in," Dorsey said.
The staff at Lakeview Rehabilitation and Nursing Center, she said, never told her the seriousness of the pressure sore, which led to sepsis, a severe infection that can quickly turn deadly if not cared for properly. While a resident of Lakeview and another area nursing home, Jackson required several trips to hospitals for intravenous antibiotics and other sepsis care, including painful surgeries to cut away dead skin around the wound, court records show.
Dorsey is suing the nursing center for negligence and wrongful death in caring for her dad, who died at age 85 in March 2014. Citing medical privacy laws, Lakeview administrator Nichole Lockett declined to comment on Jackson's care. In a court filing, the nursing home denied wrongdoing.
The case, pending in Cook County Circuit Court, is one of thousands across the country that allege enfeebled nursing home patients endured stressful, sometimes painful, hospital treatments for sepsis that many of the lawsuits claim never should have happened.
My father was like my best friend. Most people go to their mom to talk and tell all their secrets, and for me it was my dad.
Shana Dorsey
Year after year, nursing homes around the country have failed to prevent bedsores and other infections that can lead to sepsis, an investigation by Kaiser Health News and the Chicago Tribune has found.
No one tracks sepsis cases closely enough to know how many times these infections turn fatal.
However, a federal report has found that care related to sepsis was the most common reason given for transfers of nursing home residents to hospitals and noted that such cases ended in death "much more often" than hospitalizations for other conditions.
A special analysis conducted for KHN by Definitive Healthcare, a private health care data firm, also suggests that the toll — human and financial — from such cases is huge.
Examining data related to nursing home residents who were transferred to hospitals and later died, the firm found that 25,000 a year suffered from sepsis, among other conditions. Their treatment costs Medicare more than $2 billion annually, according to Medicare billings from 2012 through 2016 analyzed by Definitive Healthcare.
In Illinois, about 6,000 nursing home residents a year who were hospitalized had sepsis, and 1 in 5 didn't survive, according to Definitive's analysis.
"This is an enormous public health problem for the United States," said Dr. Steven Simpson, a professor of medicine at the University of Kansas and a sepsis expert. "People don't go to a nursing home so they can get sepsis and die. That is what is happening a lot."
The costs of all that treatment are enormous. Court records show that Willie Jackson's hospital stays toward the end of his life cost Medicare more than $414,000. Medicare pays Illinois hospitals more than $100 million a year for treatment of nursing home residents for sepsis, mostly from Chicago-area facilities, according to the Medicare claims analysis.
Sepsis is a bloodstream infection that can develop in bedridden patients with pneumonia, urinary tract infections and other conditions, such as pressure sores. Mindful of the dangers, patient safety groups consider late-stage pressure sores to be a "never" event because they largely can be prevented by turning immobile people every two hours and by taking other precautions. Federal regulations also require nursing homes to adopt strict infection-control standards to minimize harm.
Yet the failures that can produce sepsis persist and are widespread in America's nursing homes, according to data on state inspections kept by the federal Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services. Many of the lawsuits allege that bedsores and other common infections have caused serious harm or death. The outcome of these cases is not clear, because most are settled and the terms kept confidential.
Cook County, where the private legal community is known to take an aggressive approach to nursing homes, has more of these suits than any other metro area in the U.S., KHN and the Tribune found by reviewing court data.
State inspectors also cite thousands of homes nationally for shortcomings that have the potential to cause harm. Inspections data kept by CMS show that since 2015 94 percent of homes operating in Illinois have had at least one citation for conditions that increase the risk of infection. These citations include care related to bedsores, catheters, feeding tubes and the home's overall infection-control program.
"Little infections turn to big infections and kill people in nursing homes," said William Dean, a Miami lawyer with more than two decades of experience suing nursing homes on behalf of patients and their families.
Much of the blame, regulators and patient advocates say, lies in poor staffing levels. Too few nurses or medical aides raises the risks of a range of safety problems, from falls to bedsores and infections that may progress to sepsis or an even more serious condition, septic shock, which causes blood pressure to plummet and organs to shut down.
Staffing levels for nurses and aides in Illinois nursing homes are among the lowest in the country. In the six-county Chicago area, 78 percent of the facilities' staffing levels fall below the national average, according to government data analyzed by KHN.
Matt Hartman, executive director of the Illinois Health Care Association, which represents more than 500 nursing homes, acknowledged low staffing is a problem that diminishes the quality of nursing care.
Hartman blamed the state's Medicaid payment rates for nursing homes — about $151 a day per patient on average — which he said is lower than most other states. Medicaid makes up about 70 percent of the revenue at many homes, he said.
Last October, CC Care LLC, an Illinois nursing home group that specializes in treating mentally ill patients on Medicaid, filed for bankruptcy, arguing that the state's "financial troubles have been disastrous for all nursing homes."
In a July court filing, CC Care creditors' committee argued that the company couldn't stay afloat relying on Illinois Medicaid payments, which it called "slow, erratic and significantly less than what we are due."
Pat Comstock, executive director of the Health Care Council of Illinois, said nursing homes she represents "are operating in an increasingly difficult environment in Illinois, yet they continue to prioritize delivering the best care possible to residents in a safe and secure setting."
A Festering Complaint
Shana Dorsey remembers her father as a quiet but friendly man. He worked as a uniformed bank security guard and picked up extra cash fixing neighbors' cars in an empty lot adjacent to his West Side apartment building. He was a stickler for detail, who relished teaching his granddaughter the state capitals and was always ready to lend a hand to help his daughter, who now works for a Chicago property management firm.
But age and declining health caught up with the Army veteran, who by his early 80s began to exhibit signs of dementia and moved into an assisted living apartment.
Dorsey knew her dad needed more specialized care when she found him sitting in his favorite peach recliner in his apartment, unable to get up and incontinent.
He required more intense medical and personal care as his kidney disease worsened and he became more confused, medical records show. In his last 18 months of life, he cycled in and out of hospitals eight times for treatment of septic bedsores and other infections, according to court records.
The Chicago law firm representing Dorsey, Levin & Perconti, provided KHN and the Tribune with medical records and additional court filings that cover Jackson's care.
Jackson had two pressure sores in late November 2012 when he was first admitted to Lakeview nursing center from the Jesse Brown VA Medical Center in Chicago, according to lawyers for his daughter.
These wounds healed, but in late September 2013, Jackson spiked a fever and had an infected sore in his lower back that exposed the bone, causing what Dorsey's lawyers called "significant pain."
The nursing home transferred Jackson to Presence St. Joseph Hospital in Chicago, where surgeons cut away the dead skin and administered antibiotics. At that time, the sore was as wide as a grapefruit and had "copious purulent drainage, foul smell and bleeding," Dorsey's lawyers argue. Tests confirmed sepsis, and the wound had grown so deep that it infected the sacral bone in his back, a condition known as osteomyelitis, the lawsuit said.
In November 2013, Dorsey moved her father to another nursing home. He required three more hospital visits before Dorsey made the difficult decision to place Jackson in hospice care. He died March 14, 2014, from "failure to thrive," according to a death certificate.
In her suit, Dorsey, 39, argues that Lakeview nursing staff knew Jackson was at "high risk" for bedsores because of his declining health. Yet the home failed to take steps to prevent the injuries, such as turning and repositioning him every two hours, according to the suit. That didn't happen about 140 times in August 2013 alone, Dorsey's lawyers said.
"My father was like my best friend. Most people go to their mom to talk and tell all their secrets, and for me it was my dad," Dorsey said in a November 2015 deposition.
While Lakeview declined to discuss Jackson's treatment, it has denied negligence and argued in court filings that its actions were not to blame for Jackson's death. Lockett, the home's administrator, said the facility "strictly follows" all regulations to minimize the effects of skin breakdowns that can occur naturally with age.
"We are grateful for the daily opportunity to enhance the lives of seniors and other chronically ill populations in our community," Lockett said in a statement.
Infection Control
Poor infection control ranks among the most common citations in nursing homes. Since 2015, inspectors have cited 72 percent of homes nationally for not having or following an infection-control program. In Illinois, that figure stands at 88 percent of homes.
Illinois falls below national norms for risks of pressure sores or failure to treat them properly in nursing homes. Inspectors have cited 37 percent of the nation's nursing homes for this deficiency, compared with 60 percent in Illinois, according to CMS records. Only three states were cited more frequently.
Inspectors in November 2016 cited Alden Town Manor Rehabilitation and Health Care Center in Cicero, Ill., for neglect due to its care of an unnamed 83-year-old man with pressure ulcer sores that went untreated. Gangrene had set in by the time the staff sent him to the hospital, where surgeons ended up amputating his right leg above the knee, according to the inspectors' report and citation. Alden Town Manor had no comment.
Dean, the Miami lawyer, said that nursing home staffs often miss early signs of infection, which can start with fever and elevated heart rate, altered mental status or not eating. When those symptoms occur, nurses should call a doctor and arrange to transfer the patient to a hospital, but that process often takes too long, he said.
"They don't become septic on the ambulance ride over to the hospital," Dean said.
There is little agreement over how much staff should be required in nursing homes. Federal regulations simply mandate that a registered nurse must be on duty eight hours per day, every day. In 2001, a federal government study recommended a daily minimum of 4.1 hours of total nursing time per resident, which includes registered nurses, licensed practical nurses and certified nursing assistants, often referred to as aides. That never became an industry standard or federal regulation, however.
Most states set requirements lower and face industry resistance to raising the bar. A California law requiring 3.5 hours per resident as of this July 1 is drawing intense criticism from the industry, for instance.
In addition, staffing can fluctuate, particularly over the weekends. A recent KHN investigation found that on some days, nursing home aides could be in charge of twice as many residents as normal.
At a minimum, Illinois requires 2.5 hours of direct care daily for residents. Yet federal nursing home payroll data show that at least 1 in 4 Chicago-area nursing home residents live in facilities that aren't consistently providing that much care, KHN found.
Nationally, each aide is responsible for 10 residents on average; in the six-county Chicago area, the average is 13 residents per aide.
Federal officials have linked inadequate staffing to bedsores and other injuries, such as falls. If left unattended, even a small ulcer or sore can become septic, and once that happens, a patient's life is in imminent danger.
In October 2014, Milwaukee-based Extendicare denied wrongdoing but paid $38 million to settle a federal False Claims Act lawsuit that accused it of not having enough staff on hand in 33 nursing homes in eight states, including Indiana, and failing to take steps to prevent bedsores or falls.
In other cases, federal officials have alleged that some nursing homes overmedicate residents — which can result in injuries such as falls from beds or wheelchairs and bedsores — rather than staff up to care for them properly.
Little infections turn to big infections and kill people in nursing homes.
William Dean, a lawyer who represents patients and their families
In May 2015, owners of two nursing homes in Watsonville, Calif., agreed to pay $3.8 million to settle a whistleblower lawsuit alleging the homes persistently drugged patients, contributing to infections and pressure sores.
The suit alleged that an 86-year-old man who could barely move after receiving a shot of an anti-psychotic medication lost his appetite and spent most of the day in bed, "was not turned or repositioned and developed additional pressure ulcers." He ran a 102-degree fever, but the staff failed to notify his doctor for three days, according to the suit.
Hospital doctors later diagnosed the man with sepsis and an infected pressure ulcer. The home did not admit wrongdoing and had no comment.
Personal injury lawyers and medical experts say that poor infection control often sends nursing home residents to hospitals for emergency treatment — and that the stress can hasten death.
Elderly people often "don't have the ability to bounce back from an infection," said Dr. Karin Molander, a California emergency room physician and board member of the Sepsis Alliance advocacy group.
That odyssey of multiple, stressful trips to the hospital is a common thread in negligence and wrongful death lawsuits involving sepsis or bedsores. KHN identified more than 8,000 suits filed nationwide from January 2010 to March of this year that allege injuries from failing to prevent or treat pressure sores and other serious infections.
Molander said serious bedsores indicate "someone is being ignored for an extended time period."
"When we see patients like that we file [patient neglect] complaints with adult protective services," she said.
Some of these cases led to million-dollar jury verdicts. In 2017, a Kentucky jury awarded $1.1 million to the family of a woman who suffered from bedsores and sepsis in a nursing home. In a second case last year, a jury awarded $1.8 million to a widow who alleged a Utah nursing home failed to turn her husband often enough to prevent bedsores, which led to his death.
Lawyers filed more than 1,400 of the cases from January 2010 to March of this year in Cook County Circuit Court, which tops all metro areas across the country in the KHN sample.
Nursing homes complain that garish billboards to solicit clients are a fixture in Chicago, where many attorney websites also boast of recent million-dollar verdicts from bedsore cases alone.
"We see an incredible amount of lawsuits out there," said Hartman, of the Illinois nursing home association. "We feel we have a target on our backs."
Trial lawyers counter that nursing homes often try to duck responsibility for poor care by creating complex corporate structures to limit their liability. Yet Hartman derided these suits as "cash cows" for law firms that can rack up six-figure legal fees as cases drag on. The nursing home industry supports tort reforms that would compensate injured persons but also bring a quicker resolution of claims, he said.
"That is something that needs to be fixed in Illinois," Hartman said.
Avoidable Hospital Transfers
In September 2013, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services said it was working to reduce avoidable transfers from nursing homes to hospitals. CMS had previously called these trips "expensive, disruptive and disorienting for frail elders and people with disabilities."
The plans came in the wake of a critical 2013 Department of Health and Human Services audit that found Medicare had paid about $14 billion in 2011 for these transfers. Care related to sepsis cost Medicare more than the next three costliest conditions combined, according to the audit.
The auditors have not checked in to see if Medicare has since reduced those costs and have no plans to do so, a spokesman for the HHS Office of Inspector General said.
However, Definitive Healthcare's analysis of billing data, modeled after the HHS audit, shows little change between 2012 and 2016, both in terms of deaths and costs.
Wendy Meltzer, executive director of Illinois Citizens for Better Care, said that hospital trips caused by treatment for sepsis can be "emotionally devastating" for confused elderly patients.
"It's not a choice anybody makes. It's horrible for people with dementia," Meltzer said. "Some never recover from that. It's a very real phenomenon and it's cruel."