The reason so few Missouri dentists accept Medicaid is simple, according to Vicki Wilbers, executive director of the Missouri Dental Association: The state's program pays dentists extremely poorly compared with private insurance or what a dentist could charge a patient paying cash.
This article was published on Tuesday, November 16, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
At the Access Family Care clinics in southwestern Missouri, the next available nonemergency dental appointment is next summer. Northwest Health Services, headquartered in St. Joseph, is booked through May. The wait is a little shorter at CareSTL Health in St. Louis — around six weeks.
Roughly 275,000 Missourians are newly eligible this year for Medicaid, the federal-state public health insurance program for people with low incomes, and they can be covered for dental care, too. Missouri voters approved expansion of the program in 2020, the latest of 39 states to do so as part of the Affordable Care Act, but politics delayed its implementation until Oct. 1. Adults earning up to 138% of the federal poverty level — about $17,774 per year for an individual or $24,040 for a family of two — can now get coverage.
But one big question remains: Who will treat these newly insured dental patients?
Only 27% of dentists in Missouri accept Medicaid, according to state data, one of the lowest rates in the country. Many of them work at what are known as safety-net clinics, such as Access Family Care, Northwest Health Services and CareSTL Health. Such clinics receive federal funds to serve uninsured patients on a sliding scale and was experiencing huge demand for dental services before expansion.
The reason so few Missouri dentists accept Medicaid is simple, according to Vicki Wilbers, executive director of the Missouri Dental Association: The state’s program pays dentists extremely poorly compared with private insurance or what a dentist could charge a patient paying cash. Adding to the strain, said Wilbers, dentists who do accept Medicaid often must deal with the state plus private insurers that administer Medicaid through a program known as managed care.
“You have more people on the rolls, you still don’t have reimbursement rates increase,” Wilbers said. “And it’s cumbersome.”
Still, for these new patients, the coverage can be life-changing.
Only 37% of adults in the state with incomes under $15,000 per year saw a dentist in 2018 compared with 76% of adults earning over $50,000, according to a state report. A survey by the American Dental Association found 53% of low-income Missourians have difficulty chewing, 43% avoid smiling because of the condition of their mouth and 40% experience pain.
“I just don’t think those stories are told enough,” said Steve Douglas, spokesperson for Access Family Care in Neosho.
Douglas described a patient of the clinic who believes his so-far-unsuccessful quest for higher-paying work has been hindered by the appearance of his teeth.
“We’re hoping that with the Medicaid expansion we can get him in for some care,” Douglas said. “He would like to save some of his teeth and not go to full dentures.”
About 62% of Missouri adults making under $15,000 per year have lost at least one tooth to decay or gum disease, and 42% of people 65 and older in that income range have lost all of them, according to the state report. For Missourians earning over $50,000, those rates are 34% and 8%, respectively.
Part of the dental care backlog at Access Family Care, which offers dental services at five locations around southwestern Missouri, is due to the pandemic. The clinic laid off all 95 of its dental staffers in March 2020 before gradually building back to full capacity. As with dental practices nationwide, many of their patients are now coming to get the dental work done that they delayed earlier over fears of exposure to the coronavirus.
But central to the huge demand is an overall need for more providers. Nearly 1.7 million Missourians live in a federally designated dental professional shortage area, one of the highest levels of unmet needs in the country. It’d take another 365 dentists to fill that void, at least one extra dentist for every 10 already practicing in the state.
“We could easily employ another four dentists and still have high demand,” Douglas said.
His clinic, Access Family Care, has indeed hired two new dentists to start in 2022. To manage the dental caseload until then, though, it had to temporarily stop seeing new patients.
In St. Louis, Dr. Elena Ignatova, director of dental services at CareSTL Health, had 18 patients scheduled on a recent Wednesday in November. About a quarter of them were insured through Medicaid.
By 10 a.m., she had cast a mold of one patient’s mouth to fit dentures, referred another to an oral surgeon for a root canal and prepped a fourth-year dental student for the extraction of a Medicaid patient’s remaining teeth. In Missouri, Medicaid covers simple tooth extractions for adults but not root canals or crowns.
“We remove teeth because the other treatment is too expensive and they cannot afford it,” Ignatova said. “Then it can take years for those patients to come up with the money for dentures.”
Ignatova is booked into February, but the clinic still takes walk-ins for dental emergencies. She’s also working her way through a waiting list of 39 patients who might be able to show up quickly if a cancellation or no-show opens a spot in her schedule.
There is easily enough demand for another dentist, but Ignatova said they’re still working on hiring the dental assistants and hygienists needed to reopen the school-based clinics for kids they operated before the pandemic. Those hirings are in the works, but it is slow going. As with many health care facilities, she and others said, President Joe Biden’s vaccine mandates have added an extra hurdle to recruiting and retaining staff.
One clinic that isn’t seeing a bottleneck of dental patients, though, is KC Care Health Center in Kansas City. Kristine Cody, the clinic’s vice president of oral health services, said a new patient could be seen there in about a week. The Kansas City region benefits from having the University of Missouri-Kansas City School of Dentistry, which offers reduced-cost care to patients at the clinic where its students are trained, plus several other safety-net clinics.
KC Care also added two dentists and extended its clinical hours in anticipation of Medicaid expansion.
Congress created the 340B program in 1992 to provide extra funding for hospitals and clinics, especially those serving the poor and elderly, but the law does not require patients to benefit directly, a nuance that has fueled great conflict about how the program works and should be regulated.
This article was published on Tuesday, November 16, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
In early July, as the covid-19 pandemic slammed rural America, the president of a small Kansas hospital sat down on a Friday afternoon and wrote the president of the United States to plead for help.
“I do not intend to add to your burden,” said Brian Williams, a retired Army lieutenant colonel and Desert Storm combat veteran. He said his hospital, Labette Health, was “like a war zone,” inundated with unvaccinated patients. A department head had threatened to resign, saying he could not “watch one more body be carried out.”
But Williams wasn’t seeking pandemic relief.
Instead, he asked President Joe Biden to confront pharmaceutical manufacturers Eli Lilly and Co., Novo Nordisk and others for refusing to honor a federal drug discount program for hospitals and clinics. The program gives Williams millions to pay staff members, ensure remote clinics remain open and provide charity care for patients unable to pay, he said.
“During a global pandemic, I think health care workers deserve a little bit more respect than to have resources taken away,” Williams said in an interview with KHN and InvestigateTV. “Every one of those [drug] companies, I looked them up, and they were not suffering tremendous [financial] losses, as hospitals were.”
Eli Lilly’s stock price increased nearly 40% and the company’s value rose by $59 billion in the first seven months of 2021. In the same period, Labette Health lost $1.2 million in revenue just from the missed savings on prescriptions, Williams said.
Lilly and other manufacturers, though, are holding their ground. They refuse to offer discounts to thousands of hospital-contracted pharmacies, saying the program has grown beyond its intended use and lacks federal checks and balances against duplicate discounts and other abuses. In lawsuits, they contend the billions in discounted sales they provide are rarely passed on to patients and instead are swallowed up by middlemen like contract pharmacies and third-party administrators.
Congress created the so-called 340B program in 1992 to provide extra funding for hospitals and clinics, especially those serving the poor and elderly. The purpose, lawmakers wrote, is to “stretch scarce Federal resources as far as possible, reaching more eligible patients and providing more comprehensive services.”
Companies that want their drugs covered by Medicaid or Medicare Part B are required to offer 340B discounts, typically 25% to 50% off what they might otherwise pay. Hospitals and clinics buy the drugs at the discount and then are reimbursed by an insurance company, Medicare or Medicaid at the higher negotiated rate. The difference is kept by the hospital or clinic to use as it sees fit.
The law does not require patients to benefit directly, a nuance that has fueled great conflict about how the program works and should be regulated.
Hannah Norman/KHN; Getty Images
The 340B program’s reach exploded after federal regulators ruled in 2010 that hospitals and clinics could contract with an unlimited number of retail pharmacies such as Walgreens and CVS, which are paid a fee to dispense the discounted drugs. The growth, coupled with long-held questions about regulatory authority, puts the program at a tipping point, with patients stuck in the middle, industry experts say.
The number of pharmacies contracted to work with 340B hospitals to dispense the discounted drugs has soared. It’s reached more than 31,000 nationwide this year from just over 1,700 in 2010, according to an analysis of federal data by InvestigateTV and KHN.
One eye-popping statistic: The drugs purchased under 340B climbed to $38 billion in 2020 from $5.3 billion in 2010, according to the Health Resources and Services Administration, or HRSA, which oversees the program.
Interests on both sides of the program — hospitals and drugmakers — say they are at the mercy of a program designed with the best of intentions, now run amok, hijacked by for-profit companies and wealthy hospitals trying to profit from its largesse.
Adam J. Fein, chief executive of the industry research organization Drug Channels Institute, estimates that nearly half the nation’s retail, mail and specialty pharmacies now profit from 340B: The program, he said, is “essentially taking over the pharmacy industry.”
Legal fights about the program have landed before the U.S. Supreme Court, which is slated to hear arguments this month in American Hospital Association v. Becerra. The hospital industry is challenging a 2018 rule by the Trump administration to cut reimbursement on certain 340B drugs by 28.5%. As Biden’s HHS secretary, Xavier Becerra has upheld the rule.
Most important, the administration says, is to make sure providers use the savings to benefit patients. In an interview with KHN and InvestigateTV, Rear Adm. Krista Pedley, director of the Office of Special Health Initiatives, which oversees the program within Becerra’s agency, said, “We need legislative changes to help make that happen and require that.”
'Deeply Troubling'
When Sen. Joe Manchin (D-W.Va.) asked during a June appropriations hearing about pharmaceutical companies denying the discounts, Becerra said the drugmakers are violating the law.
“I hope what you’ll do is give us more authority” to regulate the program, Becerra said.
Manchin responded: “I really think we could do that in a bipartisan way, because I’ll tell ya, we’re all being affected.”
As California’s attorney general, Becerra led a coalition of national lawmakers calling for the federal government to hold the manufacturers accountable for their “deeply troubling” actions to undermine the program. At HHS, Becerra put the companies on notice.
Drugmakers — Lilly, AstraZeneca, Novo Nordisk, Sanofi, Novartis and United Therapeutics — took the matter to court, filing several lawsuits. This month, a federal judge ruled that the companies are not required to provide the discounts. A judge in Lilly’s case criticized the “unilateral” action by drugmakers but ruled that the U.S. government’s effort to force them to honor the discounts was invalid.
Notably, U.S. District Court Judge Sarah Evans Barker in Indianapolis wrote that manufacturers believe they are “at the mercy of a system run amok” and that the program “can no longer be held together and implemented fairly” solely through the agency’s guidance and inconsistent messaging.
Becerra requested $17 million annually for 340B program oversight, a $7 million bump. The money would establish a dispute review panel and increase the audits the agency does on manufacturers as well as the providers.
Williams — at his small hospital in rural Parsons, Kansas — said the nearly $4.3 million the hospital gains each year from 340B has allowed him to add a full-time position for case management, increase staffing hours, develop after-school programs and open clinics in impoverished towns that lacked health care.
The hospital has about 20 pharmacies under active contracts, according to the federal database. Williams said it includes locally owned shops like Bowen Pharmacy as well as corporate giants like Walgreens and Walmart, sites that are convenient for patients. A pharmacy added in 2019 is in Frisco, Texas — a mail-order facility that ships specialty drugs directly to patients’ homes.
Patients, Williams said, directly benefit from the federal program: “I’d love to have the CEO of Eli Lilly come here and I’ll take him around and I’ll show him a town of 1,200 where 40% of the population live below the poverty level.”
“Some of our patients come there on a bicycle or in a wheelchair,” Williams said. “I can go 30 minutes in any direction and find pretty tough people living in pretty … pretty austere circumstances.”
One Hospital, 300 Pharmacies
Vanderbilt University Medical Center, based in Nashville, has added three regional hospitals, clinics and providers in recent years — growth that has fueled its rise in contract pharmacies from zero in 2010 to 300 this year. The pharmacies, which reach across Tennessee and all the way to California, “in each instance serve VUMC patients,” Vanderbilt spokesperson John Howser said.
Financial filings do not disclose how much Vanderbilt gains annually from the 340B program, and Howser declined to disclose the amount. The medical system’s operating revenue grew $649 million, or 13%, to $5.5 billion in fiscal year 2021 compared with 2020, according to its latest financial disclosure. Its operating profit rose 25% to $177 million in 2021 compared with 2020.
According to an amicus brief filed in March for the American Hospital Association v. Becerra case, Vanderbilt spends more than $500 million annually on community benefits, such as charity care. Revenue from the 340B program supports low-income programs including medication assistance, home infusion medications and a pharmacy program at a health clinic run by students.
In the brief, Vanderbilt states the government’s cut in Medicare reimbursement has cost the system $12.4 million in 340B savings and will “impact VUMC’s ability to continue to fund community benefit programs at historic levels.”
Large regional health systems have been particularly active in expanding their contract pharmacy networks. The top three — University of Michigan Hospitals and Health Centers, Cambridge Public Health Commission in Massachusetts and Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit — had zero contracts with outside pharmacies in 2010, and each now has more than 500.
InvestigateTV and KHN contacted the 10 providers with the most contract pharmacies and asked why they saw such growth, how much revenue 340B generates and how the money was used.
While some said the money went for charity care and community programs, others did not respond.
Why not require hospitals to report precisely how they use the savings to benefit patients?
It would be “burdensome,” said Maureen Testoni, chief executive of 340B Health, which represents health systems.
She said her organization does not support mandating new reporting for nonprofit hospitals, which are required to submit annual cost reports and tax filings. The advocacy group has funded research that shows the savings from discounts go to patients. Hospitals enrolled in the program are much more likely to provide free care and specialty services, such as transportation, that are “typically not the ones you can use to pad your pockets,” she said.
Testoni said program growth is good because it means more care can be provided in outpatient settings and by safety-net providers for low-income populations. The bigger sales numbers, she said, could stem from more prescriptions or from higher drug prices. Detailed information about either metric is not public.
“Are we concerned that somehow pharmaceutical companies are being hurt by this?” Testoni said. “Because I’ve never seen any evidence of that in terms of their revenue going down or them having trouble keeping their doors open.”
'Essentially Taking Over'
Hospitals aren’t required to prove that the large pharmacy networks serve uninsured or needy patients. The larger networks enrich the hospitals and the pharmacies, said Fein of Drug Channels.
A 2018 Government Accountability Office report found that a hospital or clinic generally pays a flat dispensing fee — typically from $6 to $15 — for each eligible prescription a pharmacy processed. And pharmacies can contract with multiple health care providers: One Walmart central fill facility in Spring, Texas, contracted with 1,842 340B hospitals and clinics, the InvestigateTV and KHN analysis found.
Recent securities filings for Walmart, Walgreens and CVS Health — the biggest players in the contract pharmacy market —- do not provide line-item detail on how many 340B prescriptions are processed or the revenue those transactions generate. Walmart did not respond to requests for comment. CVS declined to comment.
CVS reported in an August financial filing that operating income increased by a third between March and June compared with a year ago and noted that 340B business contributed to that increase but provided no further detail. The company acquired 340B contract pharmacy administrator Wellpartner in 2017.
Walgreens mentioned the program in its 2020 annual financial filing, noting that changes to government pricing and regulations “could also significantly reduce our profitability.” Walgreens spokesperson Rebekah Pajak said that many of the company’s stores are in underserved areas and that it is proud to help fulfill the program’s goals. She declined to disclose the dispensing fees or terms of its contracts with hospitals and clinics.
Karyn Schwartz, vice president of policy and research at PhRMA, called the 340B program a “black box” and said drug companies would like more transparency because they “really have no way of knowing” how hospitals and pharmacies use their discounts.
Drugmakers said they continue to participate in the program by sending direct discounts to the hospitals but have eliminated some or all of the discounts passed through contract pharmacies because they didn’t trust the transactions, according to emails the companies sent to KHN and InvestigateTV. Novartis, which announced last year that it would sell drugs at a discount only for pharmacies within 40 miles of a hospital, said there is a “complete absence of transparency” in the contracts between hospitals and pharmacies.
“Contract pharmacy arrangements benefit for-profit pharmacies, third-party administrators, other middlemen and hospitals,” Novartis spokesperson Caryn Marshall wrote in an email.
“Lilly welcomes reforms where patients are identified as 340B eligible at the point-of-sale and share in discounts under the program,” said Tarsis Lopez, Eli Lilly spokesperson.
Getting By on 'Half a Dose'
Meanwhile, as businesses wage war over profits, patients are stuck. Andrew Kosowski, a 75-year-old retired police officer with diabetes, was shocked last year when he lost access to discounted drugs from 340B.
Kosowski is a patient at UnityPoint Health in Peoria, Illinois, which uses funds from the program to supplement the prescription costs of low-income and Medicare patients. Under 340B, many of his prescriptions were $15 each.
Without the discount, Kosowski’s insulin and other drugs had cost more each month than his Social Security check delivered. “I wasn’t going to spend that kind of money,” he said. He took “half a dose to get me by.”
He recalled how his feet hurt and his mind was affected without his full prescriptions.
PhRMA’s Schwartz declined to speak to Kosowski’s crisis but said the industry participates in 340B and would like to see direct patient benefit. “We hope policymakers step in and really clarify the role that for-profit pharmacies are supposed to be playing in this program and ensure that patients benefit,” Schwartz said.
Kosowski was fortunate to have an ally in Anne Webster, a nurse practitioner at UnityPoint who guided him through months of filling out forms to eventually qualify for financial assistance directly from Novo Nordisk.
The assistance, though, does not cover medications from other companies that he had gotten at the 340B discount price — medications that had helped him better manage his diabetes.
Webster said pharma’s standoff came at the worst possible time: “A Type 2 diabetic is so high-risk for mortality from coronavirus. And they require more insulin if they are ill with the virus.”
Kosowski is not her only patient missing prescriptions.
“I think I prescribed over 2,000 prescriptions in one year to the 340B program for my patients who are underinsured, not insured and are financially challenged,” Webster said.
KHN data editor Holly Hacker contributed to this report.
A California law signed by Gov. Gavin Newsom last month may help you sort through a tangle of medical bills to figure out what your health plan will cover and when the coverage kicks in.
This article was published on Monday, November 15, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
If you’ve ever had a serious illness or cared for someone who has, you know how quickly the medical bills can pile up: from labs, radiology clinics, pharmacies, doctors, different departments within the same hospital — some of them in your insurance network, others not.
It can be extremely confusing, no matter how clever you are, to determine which bills you need to pay. If you’re sick, or have technological, cultural or language barriers — not to mention financial difficulties — navigating this maze can be especially intimidating.
A California law signed by Gov. Gavin Newsom last month may help you sort through a tangle of medical bills to figure out what your health plan will cover and when the coverage kicks in.
The law, SB 368, requires most state-regulated private-sector health plans to send enrollees updates, for every month in which they received care, showing how much they have paid toward their annual deductible — the amount a person must shell out before insurance begins to cover most of their care — and how close they are to reaching out-of-pocket limits, the amount after which the insurer pays for 100% of care.
The law, which takes effect in July, should help people with costly chronic conditions who need to keep better track of how much they owe, and healthy ones who rarely seek care but might suddenly encounter unexpected medical circumstances.
“It’s not that hard to hit those maximums, and it doesn’t take a cancer diagnosis to get there,” says Dylan Roby, a professor of public health at the University of California-Irvine. “It could be one ER visit with a procedure. A broken leg could get you there pretty easily.”
The new law requires health plans to send out-of-pocket updates via mail unless the insured opts for electronic delivery. The information must also be stored in a format that is accessible to customers at any time.
SB 368 “is part of a larger need to provide transparency about individuals’ out-of-pocket risks,” says Roby.
Consumers often are unaware, he notes, of what’s available for free under the Affordable Care Act, including preventive services like screening tests and immunizations. Most health plans offered through Covered California, the state’s ACA marketplace, also must cover outpatient services, including imaging, specialist appointments and physical therapy, before the deductible is met.
One potential pitfall of the new law, Roby observes, is that insurers can crunch numbers based only on the claims they’ve processed, and some doctors and other providers might take six months or more to file claims. That means the information plans send to enrollees could be outdated.
At present, state law imposes no specific requirement on insurers to inform enrollees of their current financial liabilities, but some plans already do so — either in the “explanation of benefits” they send after care is received, or in response to a customer request.
“This law makes an optional practice a requirement,” says state Sen. Monique Limón (D-Santa Barbara), who authored the legislation. “And it’s a good practice.”
The new law should be helpful to a growing number of people, given the increasing prevalence of health plans with ever-larger deductibles.
Between 2012 and 2020, the percentage of California workers with single coverage who had an annual deductible of $1,000 or greater quadrupled, to 54%. And among families enrolled in health plans with deductibles, 70% had deductibles of $2,000 or higher last year, compared with 31% eight years earlier.
For the cheapest Covered California plans, the deductible this year is $6,300 for an individual and $12,600 for a family. And there’s a separate deductible for prescription drugs (the new law requires health plans to inform enrollees where they stand on all their deductibles).
As deductibles rise, health plan members are seeing the financial protection of their insurance kick in later and later in the year. And in many cases, after meeting their deductibles they still need to spend a thousand or more before reaching out-of-pocket spending limits for the year.
People with serious diagnoses such as cancer, HIV, multiple sclerosis or cystic fibrosis frequently make such calculations.
Stacey Armato, a 41-year-old mother of three in Hermosa Beach, California, has a 6-year-old son with cystic fibrosis, a serious progressive lung disease. Her son, Massimo, takes about a dozen medications, with costs well into the thousands of dollars each month.
Armato and her family are luckier than many: They have good insurance that limits their total spending on Massimo’s care to about $6,000 a year. But that is still enough to make them rethink spending plans at times. “I’m always going to prioritize my son’s care,” Armato says.
She likes the new law. “I think transparency about how much a patient is spending and what their financial obligations are is really important,” she says.
Some families coping with cystic fibrosis and other expensive illnesses face much starker trade-offs — choosing between treatment and paying their rent, for example. In those cases, it can be indispensable to know when the financial hemorrhaging will stop, easing pressure on the family budget.
The new law can also be useful if you, like many people, postponed an elective surgery because of the pandemic — a hip replacement or cataract removal, for example — and want to reschedule it now. The best timing, financially speaking, will be when you are close to reaching your deductible and out-of-pocket spending limit — or if you already have reached them. If you know where you stand, you can schedule the procedure for a time when your financial liability will be minimal.
The law might also help people avoid paying money they don’t actually owe. “Sometimes when people see any kind of bill, they think they need to pay it,” says Jen Flory, a policy advocate at the Western Center on Law & Poverty, which supported the legislation. “So unless they understand that, ‘Oh, I reached my deductible, or my out-of-pocket max,’ people panic and do whatever they need to do to pay the bill. And it can be hard to get the money back from providers if they pay unnecessarily.”
Although your insurer is not required to provide your out-of-pocket status until the law takes effect in July, you can still call the customer help line and ask for it — or for clarification about a bill. If you don’t get the answer you want, ask your health plan to tell you who regulates it, and call that agency. It would usually be the Department of Managed Health Care, at 888-466-2219 or HealthHelp.ca.gov, or the California Department of Insurance, reachable at 800-927-4357.
If you need help sorting through heaps of medical bills, you could hire a professional patient advocate, who will typically charge you a percentage of the amount they save you. To find patient advocates in your area, log on to www.advoconnection.com
To see if you qualify for free assistance, try the Patient Advocate Foundation (www.patientadvocate.org or 800-532-5274), which helps people resolve unaffordable health bills and also provides disease-specific, need-based financial aid.
Independent pharmacies are struggling due to the vertical integration among drugstore chains, insurance companies and pharmaceutical benefit managers, which gives those companies market power that community drugstores can’t match.
This article was published on Monday, November 15, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
Batson’s Drug Store seems like a throwback to a simpler time. The independently owned pharmacy in Howard, Kansas, still runs an old-fashioned soda counter and hand-dips ice cream. But the drugstore, the only one in the entire county, teeters on the edge between nostalgia and extinction.
Julie Perkins, pharmacist and owner of Batson’s, graduated from the local high school and returned after pharmacy school to buy the drugstore more than two decades ago. She and her husband bought the grocery store next door in 2006 to help diversify revenue and put the pharmacy on firmer footing.
But with the pandemic exacerbating the competitive pressures from large retail chains, which can operate at lower prices, and from pharmaceutical intermediaries, which can impose high fees retroactively, Perkins wonders how long her business can remain viable.
She worries about what will happen to her customers if she can’t keep the pharmacy running. Elk County, with a population of 2,500, has no hospital and only a couple of doctors, so residents must travel more than an hour to Wichita for anything beyond primary care.
“That’s why I hang on,” Perkins said. “These people have relied on the store from way before I was even here.”
Corner pharmacies, once widespread in large cities and rural hamlets alike, are disappearing from many areas of the country, leaving an estimated 41 million Americans in what are known as drugstore deserts, without easy access to pharmacies. An analysis by GoodRx, an online drug price comparison tool, found that 12% of Americans have to drive more than 15 minutes to reach the closest pharmacy or don’t have enough pharmacies nearby to meet demand. That includes majorities of people in more than 40% of counties.
Independent pharmacies are struggling due to the vertical integration among drugstore chains, insurance companies and pharmaceutical benefit managers, which gives those companies market power that community drugstores can’t match.
Insurers also have ratcheted down what they will pay for prescription drugs, squeezing margins to levels that pharmacists call unsustainable. As the insurers’ drug plans steered patients to their affiliated drugstores, independent shops watched their customers drift away. They find themselves at the mercy of pharmaceutical intermediaries, which claw back pharmacy revenue through retroactive fees and aggressive audits, leaving local pharmacists unsure if they’ll end the year in the black.
That has a direct impact on customers, particularly older ones, who face higher copays for prescription medications if they have a drug plan, and higher list prices if they don’t. If their local pharmacy can’t survive, they may be forced to travel long distances to the nearest drugstore or endure waits to get their prescriptions from understaffed pharmacies serving more and more patients.
“Living in an area with low pharmacy density could increase wait times, decrease supply, and make it harder to shop around for prescription medications,” said Tori Marsh, GoodRx’s lead researcher on the drugstore desert study.
The financial pressures on independent drugstores began mounting two decades ago when Medicare instituted its Part D program using private insurance plans: Pharmacies’ most frequent customers went from paying cash for list prices to using insurance coverage that paid lower negotiated rates.
“A market clearance occurred, a big bolus of pharmacy closures,” said Keith Mueller, director of the Rural Policy Research Institute.
Independent pharmacies saw their margins shrink. On average, a pharmacy’s cost of dispensing a single prescription, factoring in labor, rent, utilities and other overhead, ranges from $9 to $15. But the reimbursement is often far less.
Multiple pharmacists said that about half of drug plan reimbursements fail to cover the costs of drugs and their overhead.
“What you’re left with is that 50% of claims that you can make some money on, and really, the tiny percentage of claims where you make an extremely high amount of money,” said Nate Hux, who owns an independent pharmacy in Pickerington, Ohio.
It’s that tiny sliver of wildly overpaid drugs, especially generics, that determines whether a pharmacy can survive. A generic drug that costs $4 might get reimbursed by a drug plan at $4,000.
“Filling a generic prescription, from a financial standpoint, is like pulling the slots at a casino,” said Ben Jolley, an independent pharmacist in Salt Lake City. “Sometimes you lose a quarter, sometimes you lose a buck, and sometimes you make $500. But you have to have those prescriptions that you make $500 on to make up for the losses on the rest of your meds.”
Some pharmacies increase their list prices to ensure they capture the highest reimbursements that drug plans are willing to pay. But that raises prices for patients paying cash.
Jolley, who also works as a consultant for pharmacies across the country, said some pharmacists game the system by billing excessive charges for drugs they mix on-site or calling physicians to switch patients to more profitable drugs.
“Pharmacies that play this game get exceptionally wealthy,” he said. “Most pharmacies either don’t feel comfortable playing this game or aren’t aware that that’s how the system works, so they get left behind. That’s why you see all these pharmacies closing.”
Pharmacy benefit managers, brokers known as PBMs, also steer customers away from independent pharmacies to affiliated chain, mail-order or specialty pharmacies with lower out-of-pockets costs. Some PBMs prevent local pharmacies from offering the most expensive drugs at all.
The benefit managers counter that there are more independent pharmacies today than there were 10 years ago. An analysis conducted on behalf of the Pharmaceutical Care Management Association, a trade group that represents pharmacy benefit managers, showed a 13% increase in the number of independently owned pharmacies from 2010 to 2019. However, many of those new stores opened in communities that already had pharmacies.
“PBMs are not seeking to put independent pharmacies out of business,” said Greg Lopes, a spokesperson for the trade group. “PBMs are trying and often succeeding in lowering drug costs.”
The insurers’ trade group, AHIP, formerly America’s Health Insurance Plans, declined to comment.
Katie Koziara, a spokesperson for the Pharmaceutical Research and Manufacturers of America, an industry group representing drugmakers, said the large market power of PBMs can leave patients with fewer choices.
“The system might work well for health plans and these middlemen, but it creates difficult access barriers for vulnerable patients,” Koziara said. “We’re concerned about the emerging issue of ‘pharmacy deserts’ where patients, particularly among communities of color, cannot readily access a community pharmacy for their medications.”
Independent pharmacists routinely identify those middle-manager companies as the leading cause of their troubles. At Batson’s drugstore in rural Kansas, Perkins recently had a customer who had been taking Emgality, an injectable monoclonal antibody treatment for migraines made by Eli Lilly and Co., that typically retails for up to $760 a month. But the customer’s drug plan wouldn’t pay Batson’s to fill it, forcing her to wait until it could be mailed from a specialty pharmacy.
Frustratingly, Perkins said, patients who get pushed to order drugs by mail often bring them to her when they need help deciphering how to use them.
Even when pharmacies make money on a prescription, there’s no guarantee they can keep much of the profit. Drug plans charge pharmacies fees every time they need to interact with the PBM’s claims database. While those fees average only 10 to 15 cents per transaction, a busy pharmacy might need to check the database hundreds of times a day.
PBMs also have implemented retroactive fees based on performance metrics they set. Pharmacies can wind up losing money on a prescription filled months earlier. PBMs describe these as quality measures, but pharmacists complain they are more about sales volume. Many of the metrics track how diligently patients take their medication, which pharmacies can hardly control.
One PBM’s contract, obtained by Axios, showed only 1% of pharmacies are able to avoid retroactive fees.
Jeff Olson, who owns three rural pharmacies in Iowa, said he paid $52,000 in retroactive fees on revenue of $6 million in 2015. While his annual revenue remained flat through 2020, those retroactive fees last year totaled $225,000.
“That’s money that can’t be used for payroll, that can’t be used to add those other services that your community needs,” Olson said.
Moreover, Olson said, he doesn’t know what metrics insurance plans use to evaluate his performance and calculate the fees.
“They define quality themselves,” said Ronna Hauser, vice president of pharmacy affairs for the National Community Pharmacists Association. “If you have 20 Part D plans you contract with, that’s 20 different quality programs that you’re supposed to be aware of and keep up with.”
According to the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, such retroactive fees were 915 times as high in 2019 as in 2010. The resulting higher prices mean Medicare beneficiaries burn through their initial coverage period faster and enter a coverage gap, or “doughnut hole,” sooner.
At Olson’s pharmacy in St. Charles, Iowa, a town of fewer than 1,000 people, fees and other financial pressures forced Olson to scale back and operate the store as a telepharmacy. Technicians fill prescriptions under the eye of an off-site pharmacist, and customers see a pharmacist only one day a week.
For a town with no other health care provider, that means six days when no one can provide vaccinations or test for strep throat.
Back in Howard, Debbie Lane, 70, likes the personal service Perkins offers at Batson’s.
“It’s a lot easier to go down to a local store, and if it happens to be after hours or an emergency, she’ll open up for us,” Lane said.
Perkins will tell her if Lane can save money by driving to a chain drugstore in Wichita instead. And, recently, Perkins ran the numbers to help Lane decide which Medicare plan would be the least expensive given the medications she takes. Lane knows it’s a struggle to keep a small-town pharmacy open and fears what might happen if Batson’s closed.
“It’d be devastating,” Lane said. “There are a lot of us like me, who will sometimes pay a little extra to make sure that Julie stays in business.”
Finding the best private Medicare drug or medical insurance plan among dozens of choices is tough enough without throwing misleading sales tactics into the mix.
Yet federal officials say complaints are rising from seniors tricked into buying policies — without their consent or lured by questionable information — that may not cover their drugs or include their doctors. In response, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services has threatened to penalize private insurance companies selling Medicare Advantage and drug plans if they or agents working on their behalf mislead consumers.
The agency has also revised rules making it easier for beneficiaries to escape plans they didn't sign up for or enrolled in only to discover promised benefits didn't exist or they couldn't see their providers.
The problems are especially prevalent during Medicare's open-enrollment period, which began Oct. 15 and runs through Dec. 7. A common trap begins with a phone call like the one Linda Heimer, an Iowa resident, received in October. She won't answer the phone unless her caller ID displays a number she recognizes, but this call showed the number of the hospital where her doctor works.
The person on the phone said she needed Heimer's Medicare number to make sure it was correct for the new card she would receive. When Heimer hesitated, the woman said, "We're not asking for a Social Security number or bank numbers or anything like that. This is OK."
"I can't believe this, but I gave her my card number," said Heimer. Then the caller asked questions about her medical history and offered to send her a saliva test "absolutely free." That's when Heimer became suspicious and hung up. She contacted the 1-800-MEDICARE helpline to get a new Medicare number and called the AARP Fraud Watch Network Helpline and the Federal Trade Commission.
But later that morning the phone rang again and this time the caller ID displayed a number matching the toll-free Medicare helpline. When she answered, she recognized the voice of the same woman.
"You're not from Medicare," Heimer told her.
"Yes, yes, yes, we are," the woman insisted. Heimer hung up again.
It's been only two weeks since Heimer disclosed her Medicare number to a stranger and, so far, nothing's gone wrong. But armed with that number, scammers could bill Medicare for services and medical supplies that beneficiaries never receive, and the scammers could sign seniors up for a Medicare Advantage or drug plan without their knowledge.
In California, reports of deceptive sales practices for Medicare Advantage and drug plans have been the top complaints to the state Senior Medicare Patrol for the past two years, said Sandy Morales, a case manager for the group. The patrol is a federally funded program that helps seniors untangle insurance problems.
Nationwide, the Senior Medical Patrol has sent 74% more cases in the first nine months of this year than in all of 2020 to CMS and the Health and Human Services Inspector General for investigation, said Rebecca Kinney, director of the Administration for Community Living's Office of Healthcare Information and Counseling at HHS, which oversees the patrols. She expects more complaints to come in during Medicare's open-enrollment period.
And last month, CMS officials warned the private insurance companies selling Medicare Advantage and drug plans that federal requirements prohibit deceptive sales practices.
Kathryn Coleman, director of CMS' Medicare Drug and Health Plan Contract Administration Group, said in a memo to insurers that the agency is concerned about ads widely promoting Advantage plan benefits that are available only in a limited area or to a restricted number of beneficiaries. CMS has also received complaints about sales information that could be construed as coming from the government and pressure tactics to get seniors to enroll, she noted.
Coleman reminded the companies they are "accountable and responsible for their marketing materials and activities, including marketing completed on a MA plan's behalf" by sales representatives. Companies that violate federal marketing rules can be fined and/or face enrollment suspensions. But a CMS spokesperson could not provide examples of recent violators or their penalties.
If beneficiaries discover a problem before March 31, the date the three-month disenrollment period ends each year, they have one chance to switch to another plan or to original Medicare. (Those who choose the latter may be unable to buy supplemental or Medigap insurance, with rare exceptions, in all but four states: Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts and New York.) After March, they are generally locked into their Advantage or drug plans for the entire year unless they're eligible for one of the rare exceptions to the rule.
Officials can grant a "special enrollment period" for people who want to leave their plan because of deceptive sales tactics. These include "situations in which a beneficiary provides a verbal or written allegation that his or her enrollment in a MA or Part D plan was based upon misleading or incorrect information … [or] where a beneficiary states that he or she was enrolled into a plan without his or her knowledge," according to the Medicare Managed Care Manual.
"This is a really important safety valve for beneficiaries that clearly goes beyond just the limited opportunity to switch plans when someone feels buyer's remorse," said David Lipschutz, associate director of the Center for Medicare Advocacy. To use the new option, beneficiaries should contact their state's health insurance assistance program at www.shiphelp.org/.
The option to leave is also available if a significant number of plan members are unable to access the doctors or hospitals that were supposed to be in the provider network.
Nonetheless, the scams continue around the country, experts say.
A misleading television commercial in the San Francisco area has enticed seniors with a host of new benefits including dental, vision, transportation benefits and even "money back into your Social Security account," said Morales. Beneficiaries have told her group that when they called for information they were "erroneously enrolled into a plan that they never gave permission to enroll into," she said.
In August, an Ohio senior received a call from someone telling him Medicare was issuing new cards because of the COVID-19 pandemic. When he wouldn't provide his Medicare number, the caller became angry and the beneficiary felt threatened, said Chris Reeg, director of the Ohio Senior Health Insurance Information Program.
Reeg said another senior received a call from a salesperson with bad news: She wasn't getting all the benefits from Medicare she was entitled to. The beneficiary provided her Medicare number and other information but didn't realize the caller was enrolling her in a Medicare Advantage plan. She found out when she visited her doctor, who did not accept her new insurance.
In western New York, the culprit is an official-looking postcard, said Beth Nelson, the state's Senior Medicare Patrol director. "Our records indicate … you may be eligible to receive additional benefits," it says, enticingly. When Nelson's client called the number on the card in September for more details, she provided her Medicare number and later ended up in a Medicare Advantage plan without her consent.
Heimer's scammer was persistent. When the stranger tried to reach her a third time, Heimer said, the caller ID displayed the phone number of another local hospital. She told the woman she had reported the calls to CMS, the AARP Fraud Watch Network Helpline and the FTC. That finally did the trick — the woman abruptly hung up.
Switching seniors to Medicare Advantage plans has cost taxpayers tens of billions of dollars more than keeping them in original Medicare, a cost that has exploded since 2018 and is likely to rise even higher, new research has found.
Richard Kronick, a former federal health policy researcher and a professor at the University of California-San Diego, said his analysis of newly released Medicare Advantage billing data estimates that Medicare overpaid the private health plans by more than $106 billion from 2010 through 2019 because of the way the private plans charge for sicker patients.
Nearly $34 billion of that new spending came during 2018 and 2019, the latest payment period available, according to Kronick. The Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services made the 2019 billing data public for the first time in late September.
"They are paying [Medicare Advantage plans] way more than they should," said Kronick, who served as deputy assistant secretary for health policy in the Department of Health and Human Services during the Obama administration.
Medicare Advantage, a fast-growing alternative to original Medicare, is run primarily by major insurance companies. The health plans have enrolled nearly 27 million members, or about 45% of people eligible for Medicare, according to AHIP, an industry trade group formerly known as America's Health Insurance Plans.
The industry argues that the plans generally offer extra benefits, such as eyeglasses and dental care, not available under original Medicare and that most seniors who join the health plans are happy they did so.
"Seniors and taxpayers alike have come to expect high-quality, high-value health coverage from MA [Medicare Advantage] plans," said AHIP spokesperson David Allen.
Yet critics have argued for years that Medicare Advantage costs taxpayers too much. The industry also has been the target of multiple government investigations and Department of Justice lawsuits that allege widespread billing abuse by some plans.
The payment issue has been getting a closer look as some Democrats in Congress search for ways to finance the Biden administration's social spending agenda. Medicare Advantage plans also are scrambling to attract new members by advertising widely during the fall open-enrollment period, which ends next month.
"It's hard to miss the big red flag that Medicare is grossly overpaying these plans when you see that beneficiaries have more than 30 plans available in their area and are being bombarded daily by TV, magazine and billboard ads," said Cristina Boccuti, director of health policy at West Health, a group that seeks to cut healthcare costs and has supported Kronick's research.
Kronick called the growth in Medicare Advantage costs a "systemic problem across the industry," which CMS has failed to rein in. He said some plans saw "eye-popping" revenue gains, while others had more modest increases. Giant insurer UnitedHealthcare, which in 2019 had about 6 million Medicare Advantage members, received excess payments of some $6 billion, according to Kronick. The company had no comment.
"This is not small change," said Joshua Gordon, director of health policy for the Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget, a nonpartisan group. "The problem is just getting worse and worse."
Responding to written questions, a CMS spokesperson said the agency "is committed to ensuring that payments to Medicare Advantage plans are appropriate. It is CMS's responsibility to make sure that Medicare Advantage plans are living up to their role, and the agency will certainly hold the plans to the standards that they should meet."
Making any cuts to Medicare Advantage payments faces stiff opposition, however.
On Oct. 15, 13 U.S. senators, including Sen. Kyrsten Sinema (D-Ariz.) sent a letter to CMS opposing any payment reductions, which they said "could lead to higher costs and premiums, reduce vital benefits, and undermine advances made to improve health outcomes and health equity" for people enrolled in the plans.
Much of the debate centers on the complex method used to pay the health plans.
In original Medicare, medical providers bill for each service they provide. By contrast, Medicare Advantage plans are paid using a coding formula called a "risk score" that pays higher rates for sicker patients and less for those in good health.
That means the more serious medical conditions the plans diagnose the more money they get — sometimes thousands of dollars more per patient over the course of a year with little monitoring by CMS to make sure the higher fees are justified.
Congress recognized the problem in 2005 and directed CMS to set an annual "coding intensity adjustment" to reduce Medicare Advantage risk scores and keep them more in line with original Medicare.
But since 2018, CMS has set the coding adjustment at 5.9%, the minimum amount required by law. Boccuti said that adjustment is "too low," adding that health plans "are inventing new ways to increase their enrollees' risk scores, which gain them higher monthly payments from Medicare."
Some of these coding strategies have been the target of whistleblower lawsuits and government investigations that allege health plans illegally manipulated risk scores by making patients appear sicker than they were, or by billing for medical conditions patients did not have. In one recent case, the Justice Department accused Kaiser Permanente health plans of obtaining about $1 billion by inflating risk scores. In a statement, the insurer disputed the allegations. (KHN is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.)
Legal or not, the rise in Medicare Advantage coding means taxpayers pay much more for similar patients who join the health plans than for those in original Medicare, according to Kronick. He said there is "little evidence" that higher payments to Medicare Advantage are justified because their enrollees are sicker than the average senior.
Kronick, who has studied the coding issue for years, both inside government and out, said that risk scores in 2019 were 19% higher across Medicare Advantage plans than in original Medicare. The Medicare Advantage scores rose by 4 percentage points between 2017 and 2019, faster than the average in past years, he said.
Kronick said that if CMS keeps the current coding adjustment in place, spending on Medicare Advantage will increase by $600 billion from 2023 through 2031. While some of that money would provide patients with extra health benefits, Kronick estimates that as much as two-thirds of it could be going toward profits for insurance companies.
AHIP, the industry trade group, did not respond to questions about the coding controversy. But a report prepared for AHIP warned in September that payments tied to risk scores are a "key component" in how health plans calculate benefits they provide and that even a slight increase in the coding adjustment would prompt plans to cut benefits or charge patients more.
That threat sounds alarms for many lawmakers, according to Kronick. "Under pressure from Congress, CMS is not doing the job it should do," he said. "If they do what the law tells them to do, they will get yelled at loudly, and not too many people will applaud."
Esperanza Health Centers has been the top pediatric COVID vaccine provider in Chicago, administering about 10,000 immunizations to 12- to 17-year-olds.
This article was published on Wednesday, November 10, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
CHICAGO — As the medical assistant put on rubber gloves and readied the syringe, 5-year-old Victoria Macias, wearing a pink Minnie Mouse mask and white blouse, turned her head away and closed her eyes.
"It's not going to hurt, OK? I'll hold your hand, I'll hold your hand," said her older sister, Alondra, 8. "Deep breath, deep breath."
The medical assistant, Rachel Blancas, poked Victoria's left arm for about a second. Victoria opened her eyes. And with that, the Macias sisters were among the first 5- to 11-year-olds to get the COVID-19 vaccine in the Midwest's largest city.
Their mom, Maria Lopez, took them out of school early last Thursday to stop by the mass immunization site on Chicago's southwest side. "They have gotten every other vaccine available, so why not this one?" said Lopez, 43, a real-estate broker.
Esperanza Health Centers, a nonprofit health provider that is operating the site, has been the top pediatric COVID vaccine provider in Chicago, according to the city's Department of Public Health, administering about 10,000 immunizations to 12- to 17-year-olds. Now that the Food and Drug Administration has authorized the Pfizer-BioNTech shot for kids ages 5-11, the organization's efforts may provide lessons for other places in the U.S. that have struggled to vaccinate children.
"People in the community trust us," said Veronica Flores, manager of COVID response for Esperanza, which has five medical clinics that see patients regardless of insurance or immigration status. "When the pandemic started, we were one of the first ones doing testing."
At one point, she noted, Esperanza was responsible for more than half of all COVID tests done in the city. The federally qualified health center's patient population, which is about 90% Hispanic, has doubled in the wake of COVID.
Everyone who works with patients at Esperanza is bilingual. The immunization site has extended hours and is open five days a week, including to people without appointments. The clinic will even pay for patients' Uber rides to get vaccinated.
If parents or guardians have questions or concerns about the pediatric vaccine, Esperanza connects them to one of its doctors.
Dr. Mark Minier, pediatric medical director, seeks to reassure patients, telling them the shot, which is given at a lower dose than for teens and adults, has been found to be both safe and effective for 5- to 11-year-olds. The relatively mild side effects may include pain at the injection site, headaches and fatigue that could last a day or two. In addition, he reminds them that children are at risk from the virus.
"Around 2 million kids between 5 and 11 years old have been diagnosed with COVID, and there's been about 170 deaths," Minier said. "That's still too many. If we have something that can help prevent death or any sort of morbidity for kids for COVID, then we should do it."
Cynthia Galvan, a medical assistant at Esperanza who lives nearby, brought her 10-year-old son, Andres, to get the shot Thursday. She hopes it will ensure her family has a better Thanksgiving than last year, when several of her relatives were sick with COVID-19.
"Everyone at home was already vaccinated, except him," said Cynthia, 34. "There's 10 of us."
Chicago's vaccination rate of 58.2% for 12- to 17-year-olds is higher than the national average of about 50%, largely because of the work of community health centers like Esperanza, said city Health Commissioner Dr. Allison Arwady. Not only are they familiar with the local languages and cultures, but they're also the type of places where the whole family is likely to get immunizations, starting with grandparents last winter.
"We know the biggest predictor of whether a child gets a vaccine is whether the parent or guardian is vaccinated," Arwady said.
She still worries about the estimated 750,000 residents of the city without immunity to COVID. Young Black Chicagoans have lagged behind other groups in getting the shot, and she's concerned outbreaks could occur this winter among those unvaccinated networks.
"One way or another, your immune system is likely to learn its COVID lesson and probably over the next few months," Arwady said. "So either that's through the safer way of getting vaccinated or taking your chance of getting infected."
The city is working to increase vaccine uptake by offering $100 gift cards, administering free shots at home to anyone who wants them, and giving all public school kids the day off this Friday to get immunized.
Last week, Esperanza Health Centers texted the families of each of its roughly 8,000 patients ages 5 to 11 to let their parents know the vaccine was available. The organization started distributing the shots to younger kids Wednesday morning, just hours after the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention gave the final go-ahead. They will start giving out second doses in three weeks.
"I hate shots," said Benicio Decker, 7, as he played a game on an iPad in the clinic's waiting area Thursday. "The only time I like shots is when we get ice cream after."
But the Chicago second grader said he was willing to withstand a little discomfort "because I want to protect my family, me, my friends, my teacher."
On the brisk fall afternoon, families with young kids streamed in and out of the site, a 23,000-square-foot former gym with exposed ventilation, hanging fluorescent lights and a blue-speckled rubber floor. As Disney songs played over the loudspeakers, the children stopped to take pictures in front of astronaut-themed, balloon-covered photo backdrops the health center had set up.
"They do a great job of making information available where people are," said Benicio's mom, Esmie De Maria, 39. "They have flyers up at restaurants, laundromats, the grocery store. They're not expecting people to come to them."
Esperanza has also done pop-up vaccine clinics at local schools and parks.
De Maria said she didn't run into waitlists as she had at other places in the city. She even enlisted the health center to teach vaccine workshops to her colleagues at a local neighborhood organization.
Esperanza is a trusted institution in a largely Hispanic part of the city, De Maria said — the health center's name means "hope" in Spanish. In Chicago and nationwide, Latinos have been less likely than whites and Asians to be immunized against the coronavirus, though that gap has been closing.
"People of color have every right, historically, to be wary of vaccinations," said De Maria, noting that many women in her ancestral home of Puerto Rico were coerced into being sterilized during the 20th century. "It's embedded in our DNA to be skeptical."
But she said she hopes everyone will consider getting immunized, for the good of the community. "This isn't just for him," she said, gesturing to Benicio.
Over at the vaccine station, Blancas, the medical assistant, told Benicio the shot would feel like a mosquito bite. "You're being really brave. You're earning that ice cream," his mom said.
When Blancas stuck Benicio's arm with the needle, the boy, holding tight to his Batman teddy bear, let out a quiet "Ow." Afterward, he said he'd just felt a little pinch.
"You are officially vaccinated," his mother told him, as he sat playing with her phone in the observation area for 15 minutes to make sure he didn't have any dangerous allergic reactions. "He's going to be one of the first kids at his school to get vaccinated. He's a little superhero."
There are two nearly identical drugs made by Endo Pharmaceuticals, both containing 50 milligrams of the hormone blocker histrelin. One cost more than eight times more than the other.
This article was published on Wednesday, November 10, 2021 in Kaiser Health News.
Sudeep Taksali thought he'd won his battle to avoid a steep price tag on a medicine for his daughter. He was wrong.
In 2020, he'd fought to get insurance to cover a lower-priced version of a drug his then-8-year-old needed. She'd been diagnosed with central precocious puberty, a rare condition marked by early onset of sexual development — often years earlier than one's peers. KHN and NPR wrote about Taksali and his family as part of the Bill of the Month series.
The girl's doctors and the Taksalis decided to put her puberty on pause with a hormone-blocking drug implant that would be placed under the skin in her arm and release a little bit of the medication each day.
Taksali, an orthopedic surgeon, learned there were two nearly identical drug products made by Endo Pharmaceuticals, both containing 50 milligrams of the hormone blocker histrelin. One cost more than eight times more than the other. He wanted to use the cheaper one, Vantas, which costs about $4,800 per implant. But his insurer would not initially cover it, instead preferring Supprelin LA, which is approved by the Food and Drug Administration to treat central precocious puberty, and costs about $43,000.
Vantas can be prescribed off-label for the condition, and after much back-and-forth dialogue, Taksali finally got the insurer to cover it.
Then this summer, it was time to replace the implant.
"I thought we would just get a Vantas replacement," Taksali said. "In my mind, I was like, 'Well, she got it the first time, and we've already kind of fought the battle with the insurance company and, you know, got it approved."
But during a virtual appointment with his daughter's doctor, he learned they couldn't get Vantas. No one could. There was a Vantas shortage.
Endo cited a manufacturing problem. Batches of Vantas weren't coming out right and couldn't be released to the public, the company's vice president of corporate affairs, Heather Zoumas Lubeski, told NPR in an email. Vantas and Supprelin were made in the same facility, but the problem affected only Vantas, she wrote, stressing that the drugs are "not identical products."
In August, Endo's president and CEO, Blaise Coleman, told investors Supprelin was doing particularly well for the company. Revenue had grown by 79% compared with the same quarter the year before. The growth was driven in part, Coleman explained, "by stronger-than-expected demand resulting from expanded patient awareness and a competitor product shortage," he said.
What competitor product shortage? Could that be Vantas?
Asked about this, Zoumas Lubeski said Coleman wasn't referring to Vantas. Since Vantas isn't approved to treat central precocious puberty, it can't technically be considered a competitor to Supprelin. Coleman was referring to the rival product Lupron Depot-Ped, not an implant, but an injection made by AbbVie, Zoumas Lubeski said.
Taksali was skeptical.
"It's all very curious, like, huh, you know, when this particular option went away and your profits went up nearly 80% from the more expensive drug," he said.
Zoumas Lubeski said that when Endo investigated its Vantas manufacturing problem, it wasn't able to find "a suitable corrective action that resolves the issue."
"As a result, and after analysis of the market for the availability of alternative therapies, we made the difficult decision to discontinue the supply of this product," she said via email. "Endo is committed to maintaining the highest quality standards for all of its products."
Taksali said he felt resigned to giving his daughter Supprelin even before the shortage turned into a discontinuation. Ultimately, he won't pay much more out-of-pocket, but his insurance will pay the rest. And that could raise his business's premiums.
The FDA cannot force Endo to keep making the drug or set a lower price for the remaining one. It doesn't have the authority. That decision lies with Endo Pharmaceuticals. A drugmaker discontinuing a product isn't anything new, said Erin Fox, who directs drug information and support services at University of Utah Health hospitals.
"The FDA has very little leverage because there is no requirement for any company to make any drug, no matter how lifesaving," she said. "We have a capitalist society. We have a free market. And so any company can discontinue anything … at any time for any reason."
Still, companies are supposed to tell the FDA about potential shortages and discontinuations ahead of time so it can minimize the impact on public health. It can help a firm resolve a manufacturing issue, decide whether it's safe to extend an expiration date or help a company making an alternative product to ramp up production.
"The FDA expects that manufacturers will notify the agency before a meaningful disruption in their own supply occurs," FDA spokesperson Jeremy Kahn wrote in an email. "When the FDA does not receive timely, informative notifications, the agency's ability to respond appropriately is limited."
But the rules are somewhat flexible. A company is required to notify the FDA of an upcoming drug supply disruption six months before it affects consumers or "as soon as practicable" after that. But their true deadline is five business days after manufacturing stops, according to the FDA website.
"They're supposed to tell the FDA, but even if they don't, there's no penalty," Fox said. "There's no teeth in that law. … Their name can go on the FDA naughty list. That's pretty much it."
In rare cases, the FDA will send a noncompliance letter to the drugmaker and require it to explain itself. This has happened only five times since 2015. There is no such letter about Vantas, suggesting that Endo met the FDA's requirements for notification.
As a result of limited FDA power, the intricacies of drug shortages remain opaque, Fox said. Companies don't have to make the reasons for shortages public. That sets the Vantas shortage and discontinuation apart from many others. The company is saying more about what happened than most do.
"Many companies will actually just put drugs on temporarily unavailable or long-term backorder, and sometimes that can last years before the company finally makes a decision" on whether to discontinue a product, she said. "It can take a long time, and so it can be frustrating to not know — or to kind of stake your hopes on a product coming back to the market once it's been in shortage for so long."
It's hard to know exactly how many children will be affected by the Vantas discontinuation because data about off-label use is hard to come by.
Dr. Erica Eugster, a professor of pediatrics at the Indiana University School of Medicine, said central precocious puberty patients weren't her first thought when she learned of the Vantas discontinuation.
"I immediately thought about our our transgender population," she said. "They're the ones that are really going to suffer from this."
No medications have been FDA-approved to treat patients with gender dysphoria, the medical term for when the sex assigned at birth doesn't match someone's gender identity, causing them psychological distress. As a result, any drug to stop puberty in this population would be off-label, making it difficult for families to get health insurance coverage. Vantas had been a lower-cost option.
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In 1972, just 18 days after he was selected to run for vice president with Democratic Sen. George McGovern, Thomas Eagleton was forced off the ticket. The issue? Years earlier, Eagleton had been hospitalized and treated with electroshock therapy for depression. The disclosure of his mental health history was a blow from which the Missouri senator could not recover.
Eagleton's torpedoed candidacy has been a cautionary tale for elected officials ever since, says California Superior Court Judge Tim Fall, who serves in Yolo County. But rather than remain quiet as he approached his own reelection season last year, Fall came out with a book that detailed his decades-long struggles with anxiety and depression.
As it turned out, Fall was unopposed for another six-year term in office. But it was a previous challenge for his seat, in 2008, that had triggered his most difficult bout with mental illness. That campaign forms the backdrop of "Running for Judge," which Fall said he wrote to show that struggling with mental illness doesn't disqualify people from high-pressure professions.
Fall, 61, who has a law degree from the University of California-Davis, was 35 when then-Gov. Pete Wilson, a Republican, appointed him as a municipal judge in 1995. Three years later he became a Superior Court judge for Yolo County; the 2008 election was the only time he ran opposed. Fall also teaches judicial ethics to other judges around the state.
He spoke with KHN in his chambers in Woodland, California. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Q: When did you realize you had a problem dealing with stress?
I'd been on the bench four or five years. I was leaving a committee meeting in the Bay Area for the California Judges Association, and I got to my car and started the engine, and all of a sudden my left shoulder and arm were numb. My first thought was a heart attack and my second thought was a stroke, but then the numbness diminished. The doctor said it was stress, and I said, "What do you mean, stress?" He said, "You don't get it. Your job is at a stress level that most people don't deal with, and you don't recognize it because you've been dealing with it for a few years now."
Q: That conversation with your doctor was 20-plus years ago.
Right. And it came to a head when I finally got a medical diagnosis regarding mental illness in 2008, after an attorney decided to run against me. The stress went to 11 immediately. It built upon itself and eventually got to where I would wake up at midnight and then stay awake for the night, feeling overwhelmed, feeling some depression, feeling some anxiety.
Q: Was it the idea of having to campaign for yourself that was the stressor?
Exactly. Some judges seem to thrive if challenged, and I'm happy for them. I speak in public regularly, but to do it when I was trying to keep my job was brand-new. The essential diagnosis was generalized anxiety disorder, with depressive episodes. We found some medication that worked for me, and that is important, because there are a lot of medications out there. Finding the right one and the right dosage is key.
Q: You wound up winning that 2008 election.
Handily. And the day after the election, I slept like a baby, and I woke up the next morning with absolutely no anxiety. It was the first time I'd had that kind of night's sleep and that kind of waking moment since the first day someone announced to run against me. But I've had recurring episodes of anxiety since then, mostly having to do with my father's health. Going back to my time in community college, I actually had a panic attack during an algebra final.
Q: Your father passed away in 2019. Then, in 2020, the pandemic hit.
And pandemic stress is real. We have pandemic rules in place, and it is my job to enforce those in my courtroom. Every morning, I'm reminding people how to wear a mask properly, and I am conducting remote appearances or in-court appearances. The level of attention that I have to give to things that people would say aren't normally a part of a judge's job is just very high.
Q: Why did you decide to make your story public?
The common statistics are that 20% to 25% of our population has anxiety or depression — or both. There are a little over 1,700 judges on the bench in California. And what that means is, statistically, 400 of them have anxiety or depression or both. I thought, somebody should speak about this in a way that starts to remove the stigma, that says this is just part of being in our culture, that anxiety and depression are real medical issues. People in all professions deal with these medical conditions: teachers, physicians, journalists, grocery clerks, whatever. I deal with them, and it does not disqualify me from being on the bench.
Q: Considering the political history and Thomas Eagleton's experience, did you hesitate, given the potential stakes?
I did take a moment to count the cost. The benefit of getting my story out in an effort to encourage others, inform families and friends, and work to destigmatize mental illness far outweighed any flak I might have faced in an election campaign.
Q: Do you employ other mental health strategies besides medication?
I exercise six days a week. I run and I lift weights and stay on top of that. Eating right. I had no caffeine for the five or six months that I was dealing with the worst of this, and I love coffee. I'm also very far along the spectrum toward introversion and need to have my alone time to recharge. So that is another tool that I use, especially when stressful things come up, which may mean that I say no to some things that I might normally say yes to.
Q: One thing that didn't change during all this was work. You continue to perform at a high level in a high-stress job, which is one of the things you write about.
Let's say an auto mechanic has a rotator cuff injury that becomes a chronic condition. This person needs to find a way to still do their job while accommodating the fact that one of their shoulders may not be as strong or limber as the other. Nobody goes to the mechanic and says, "You're disqualified from doing your job. Go home." Mental illness is the same. There are tons of ways to get the job done if you have anxiety or depression. It simply requires that same type of attention: This is my condition. This is my job. What do I need to be able to carry out my job that is appropriate? What it does not do is disqualify.
Medicare's annual open-enrollment season is here and millions of beneficiaries — prompted by a massive advertising campaign and aided by a detailed federal website — will choose a private Medicare Advantage plan.
But those who have instead opted for traditional Medicare face a critical decision about private insurance. Too often the import of that choice is not well communicated.
If beneficiaries decide to use traditional Medicare when they first join the program, they can pick a private supplemental plan — a Medigap plan — to help cover Medicare's sizable deductibles and copayments for hospital stays, physician visits and other services.
But many people don't realize that, in most states, beneficiaries have guaranteed access to a Medigap plan for only six months after they enroll in Medicare Part B — either at age 65 or when they leave private health insurance and join Part B.
While the Medicare.gov website offers a guide to these Medigap plans — labeled A through N — it's a complicated decision because each plan provides different kinds of coverage — for 10 categories of benefits. Then there are the variants with high deductibles and limited provider networks. Premiums vary sharply, of course. And because seniors enroll in these plans throughout the year as they reach Medicare eligibility, there is far less publicity about the options.
As long as a beneficiary pays the premiums, they cannot be disenrolled from a Medigap plan.Bottom of Form
For many who opted at some point for Medicare Advantage but decide later to move to traditional Medicare, getting a Medigap policy may be extremely difficult or impossible.
Lots of people making their plan choice this season may have missed their narrow window for Medigap enrollment. That means they may be stuck in Medicare Advantage or their current Medigap plan.
Ken Singer, 68, of Bridgewater, New Jersey, who retired from an investment management firm, didn't know about the limited opportunity to sign up for a Medigap policy. "Nobody told me that," he said. "I did a lot of reading about Medigap, but I found it kind of confusing." He wants a policy because he's leaving his wife's employer-based health plan.
"Not that many people aging into Medicare at 65 fully understand that moment may be their only opportunity to opt into Medigap," said Brian Connell, executive federal affairs director at the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. "If you miss that short window, you're left without protection from high out-of-pocket costs."
While Medigap plans typically carry higher premiums than Medicare Advantage plans, the more expensive ones offer greater out-of-pocket cost protection.
After a beneficiary's initial six-month window, federal law does not prohibit Medigap insurers from rejecting applicants or charging a very high premium if they have a preexisting medical condition, unlike in the Affordable Care Act insurance market for people under 65. Only four states require insurers to offer Medigap coverage to applicants regardless of age or health. Medigap covers nearly 13 million beneficiaries.
In contrast, federal rules require Medicare Advantage plans to accept all applicants and charge the same premium regardless of their health. Out-of-pocket costs in Medicare Advantage plans are capped at $7,550 this year for in-network care, not counting prescription drugs. Traditional Medicare has no cost cap, but some of the Medigap plans cover the vast majority of those expenses that otherwise would be out-of-pocket.
At least partly because of these unequal consumer protections, 17% of the 33 million people in traditional Medicare have no supplemental insurance, according to Tricia Neuman, executive director for Medicare policy at KFF. Their out-of-pocket costs can reach tens of thousands of dollars a year for serious conditions like cancer or kidney disease.
Linda Ginsburg of Jacksonville, Florida, unknowingly missed her chance to buy a Medigap policy last year when she turned 65.
Because she has cancer, the retired medical office manager qualified for Medicare through Social Security Disability Insurance before turning 65, and she enrolled in a Medicare Advantage plan. She was paying a $385 monthly premium — $4,620 a year — and facing $7,000 a year in out-of-pocket costs, not counting her big prescription drug bills. So last year before her birthday, she called two insurance brokers about switching to traditional Medicare and getting a Medigap plan, which she thought would offer better, cheaper coverage. Medicare rules offer a Medigap open enrollment opportunity for disabled beneficiaries when they turn 65.
Both brokers told her, inaccurately, that she couldn't switch because she has cancer. "They said insurers aren't going to take you, you should stay where you are," Ginsburg recalled. "They absolutely were unaware that was a period when I could have gotten in without being asked about my cancer."
Now she's stuck — and angry. "I thought screening for preexisting conditions is against the law," she lamented. "But it's not true when you hit Medicare age."
Part of the confusion is due to states' very different rules governing Medigap policies. Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts and New York require insurers to accept any applicant regardless of age or medical history, according to KFF.
In other states, people over 65 receive federally guaranteed access to a Medigap plan only under limited circumstances, such as if they move or switch out of a Medicare Advantage plan in their first year of Medicare. Twenty-eight states ensure people access to a Medigap plan if their employer terminates their retiree health benefits.
Then there are widely varying state rules for how Medigap insurers can price their plans. Eight states bar charging people more because they are older or sicker. The remaining states allow setting premiums based on age, meaning a Medigap policy may well be unaffordable for older seniors.
The situation is worse for the nearly 9 million beneficiaries younger than 65 who qualify for Medicare because of a long-term disability. Just 31 states require insurers to sell a Medigap policy to people in this group.
Members of a subgroup — kidney dialysis patients under 65 — have even more limited access to an affordable Medigap policy. Only 14 states mandate that insurers offer them affordable coverage. Starting last year, the federal government guaranteed them access to Medicare Advantage plans but not to a Medigap policy. But Medicare Advantage plans may not include the providers that dialysis patients need, said Holly Bode, vice president of government affairs at the American Kidney Fund.
Guaranteed access to an affordable Medigap policy is important, consumer advocates say, because beneficiaries who develop serious medical conditions disproportionately want to leave their Medicare Advantage plan for the broader choice of providers available through traditional Medicare.
A Government Accountability Office report in July urged Medicare officials to examine why beneficiaries in their last year of life switched from Medicare Advantage to traditional Medicare at more than twice the rate of other Medicare Advantage enrollees.
Some legislators are already pushing to revamp the Medigap market. The Close the Medigap Act, recently reintroduced by Rep. Lloyd Doggett (D-Texas), chair of the House Ways and Means Health Subcommittee, would ensure that beneficiaries with preexisting conditions could buy a Medigap policy anytime and wouldn't face higher premiums.
Another House bill, sponsored by Rep. Jaime Herrera Beutler (R-Wash.) and Rep. Cindy Axne (D-Iowa), would require Medigap insurers to offer the same plans to kidney dialysis patients under 65 that they offer to beneficiaries 65 and up.
Health insurers generally have opposed bills that require them to guarantee coverage or affordable pricing of Medigap plans, arguing that would raise premiums for current policyholders. AHIP (America's Health Insurance Plans), an industry lobbying group, has taken no position on these two bills.
Neither bill, however, is included in the Democrats' broad legislative package to expand health and social programs. In a written statement, Doggett expressed disappointment, saying that extending preexisting condition protections to the Medigap market is "one of the important pieces of unfinished business remaining from the Affordable Care Act."