Fires Undercut L.A.’s Headway on Homelessness

Los Angeles County homelessness leaders last year reported nearly 30,000 permanent housing placements — an annual high for the sprawling region of 10 million residents. Thousands more got into shelter and short-term housing.

Gov. Gavin Newsom and local leaders celebrated the progress as evidence that an unprecedented multibillion-dollar public investment to move people off the streets was working.

Then the wildfires hit.

Early evidence suggests that the January disaster is reversing hard-fought gains to get people into permanent housing. Local leaders say that as the devastating blazes displaced thousands, some who were barely making their bills and couldn’t find affordable housing have now become homeless amid an already strained housing supply.

“We’re already seeing some people have moved into their vehicles because they don’t have the money to pay for even temporary housing,” said Va Lecia Adams Kellum, CEO of the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority.

Among those displaced were formerly homeless people such as Alexandria Castaneda, 29, who lived at a sober-living home in Altadena called Art House as she recovered from a methamphetamine addiction. She and dozens of other residents evacuated safely and watched the two-story house go up in flames on live television. The nonprofit that operates Art House is now trying to rehouse those displaced.

“It’s constant stress of not knowing if I’m going to be in a stable housing situation,” said Castaneda, who moved into temporary shelter after the fires.

Much of the progress Los Angeles County has made has been due in part to locally approved measures that have injected billions of dollars into housing efforts. But it’s also a result of the state’s staggering $27 billion investment in addressing homelessness statewide.

Local officials and state lawmakers say the state must provide additional homelessness funding. But those calls are running up against political demands for results.

Newsom wants accountability over how homelessness funds are spent.

The two-term governor, who has made homelessness a central focus of his administration, says he’s open to negotiations, contingent on strict requirements for cities and counties to use the funding to clear encampments and dismantle tents crowding freeway underpasses, city sidewalks, and riverbeds.

Without more focus on unsheltered homelessness, “I am not inclined to continue to support the funding to the cities and counties,” Newsom said in a news conference Feb. 24. “We have been too permissive as it relates to encampments and tents.”

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

Trabajadores de clínicas comunitarias repasan protecciones constitucionales mientras se avecinan redadas de inmigración

El vestíbulo de la clínica comunitaria St. John’s Community Health en el sur de Los Ángeles está repleto de pacientes, pero a la trabajadora de salud comunitaria Ana Ruth Varela le preocupa que todo se vuelva mucho más tranquilo. Dijo que muchos pacientes tienen miedo de salir de sus casas.

“El otro día hablé con una de las pacientes. Me dijo: ‘No sé. ¿Debería ir a mi cita? ¿Debería cancelarla? No sé qué hacer’. Y le dije: ‘Simplemente ven’”.

Desde el regreso de Donald Trump a la Casa Blanca, el temor a las deportaciones masivas llevadas a cabo por el Servicio de Inmigración y Control de Aduanas de Estados Unidos (ICE) se ha apoderado de las comunidades inmigrantes.

Durante años, una política de larga data impedía a los agentes federales de inmigración realizar arrestos en o cerca de lugares sensibles, incluidas escuelas, lugares de culto, hospitales y centros de salud. Fue una de las primeras normas que Trump revocó en enero, a apenas horas de haber jurado como el nuevo presidente.

Benjamine Huffman, secretario interino del Departamento de Seguridad Nacional (DHS, revocó la directiva el 21 de enero. En un comunicado de prensa adjunto, un vocero del DHS dijo que la medida ayudaría a los agentes a buscar inmigrantes que hayan cometido delitos. “La administración Trump no atará las manos de nuestra valiente policía y, en cambio, confía en que usen el sentido común”, decía el comunicado.

La rapidez del cambio tomó por sorpresa a Darryn Harris.

“Pensé que teníamos más tiempo”, dijo Harris, director de asuntos gubernamentales y relaciones comunitarias en St. John’s.

Harris está entrenando velozmente a más de 1.000 trabajadores de St. John’s sobre cómo leer las órdenes judiciales mientras se capacitan para un nuevo papel: enseñar a los pacientes sus derechos constitucionales.

El demócrata Rob Conta, fiscal general de California, está aconsejando a las clínicas que publiquen información sobre el derecho de los pacientes a permanecer en silencio y que les proporcionen información sobre grupos de ayuda legal.

Bonta también insta a los proveedores de atención médica a no incluir el estatus migratorio de los pacientes en las facturas y los registros médicos. Su oficina indica que, si bien el personal no debe obstruir físicamente a los agentes de inmigración, no tienen la obligación de ayudar en un arresto.

Aunque durante el primer mandato de Trump hubo arrestos por inmigración en hospitales, la política general seguía siendo de respeto a los “lugares sensibles”. Pero ahora, el DHS afirma que las reglas anteriores obstaculizaron los esfuerzos de aplicación de la ley al crear sitios donde las personas sin estatus legal podían evadir la detención.

Matt Lopas, director de defensa estatal y asistencia técnica para el National Immigration Law Center, dijo que para que los oficiales de inmigración accedan a la información de salud o ingresen a espacios privados como las salas de examen, deben presentar una orden firmada por un juez.

“Es increíblemente importante que cada centro de atención médica tenga a alguien capacitado para poder leer esas órdenes” y determinar su validez, enfatizó Lopas.

En el Área de la Bahía de San Francisco, Zenaida Aguilera ha sido elegida para leer las órdenes de arresto para La Clínica de La Raza. Aguilera es la oficial de cumplimiento, privacidad y riesgo de la red de clínicas. Si los agentes de inmigración se presentan, ella está de guardia en las 31 clínicas comunitarias de la organización.

Ahora, Aguilera también está a cargo de la capacitación de cientos de empleados de salud. Ya ha capacitado a unos 250, pero la mayor parte de ese trabajo aún está por venir.

“Probablemente tengamos alrededor de mil empleados más”, dijo.

Aguilera teme que la administración Trump tenga en la mira a California para aplicar las leyes de inmigración debido a sus aproximadamente 2 millones de residentes sin papeles, la cifra más alta de cualquier estado, según el Pew Research Center. En 2022, 11 millones de personas estaban en Estados Unidos sin documentos legales.

Y agregó que La Clínica planea colocar afiches con los derechos constitucionales de los pacientes en los vestíbulos de las clínicas, y proporcionará recursos como información de contacto para grupos de asistencia legal.

“Nos gustaría simplemente hacer el trabajo de cuidar a nuestros pacientes en lugar de capacitar a nuestro personal sobre qué hacer si hay un funcionario de ICE que intenta ingresar a nuestras clínicas”, dijo Aguilera.

Ese artículo es parte de una alianza que incluye a NPR y KFF Health News.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

Health Clinic Workers Brush Up on Constitutional Protections as Immigration Raids Loom

The lobby at this St. John’s Community Health clinic in South Los Angeles bustles with patients. But community health worker Ana Ruth Varela is worried that it’s about to get a lot quieter. Many patients, she said, are afraid to leave their homes.

“The other day I spoke with one of the patients. She said: ‘I don’t know. Should I go to my appointment? Should I cancel? I don’t know what to do.’ And I said, ‘Just come.’”

Since Donald Trump’s return to the White House, fear of mass deportations carried out by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has gripped immigrant communities.

For years, a long-standing policy prevented federal immigration agents from making arrests at or near sensitive locations, including schools, places of worship, hospitals, and health centers. It was one of the first policies Trump rolled back in January, just hours after his inauguration.

Acting Department of Homeland Security Secretary Benjamine Huffman revoked the directive on Jan. 21. In an accompanying press release, a DHS spokesperson said the action would assist agents searching for immigrants who have committed crimes. “The Trump Administration will not tie the hands of our brave law enforcement, and instead trusts them to use common sense,” the statement said.

The speed of the change took Darryn Harris by surprise.

“I thought we had more time,” said Harris, chief government affairs and community relations officer for St. John’s.

Harris is racing to teach more than 1,000 St. John’s workers how to read warrants as they train for a new role — teaching patients their constitutional rights.

California Attorney General Rob Bonta, a Democrat, is advising clinics to post information about patients’ right to remain silent and to provide patients with contact information for legal-aid groups.

Bonta is also urging health care providers to avoid including patients’ immigration status in bills and medical records. His office directs that while staff should not physically obstruct immigration agents, they are under no obligation to assist with an arrest.

Even though immigration arrests took place in hospitals during Trump’s first term, the overall policy was still one of deference to “sensitive locations.” Now, however, DHS states that the previous rules hindered law enforcement efforts by creating sites where people without legal status could evade capture.

Matt Lopas, director of state advocacy and technical assistance for the National Immigration Law Center, said that in order for immigration officers to access health information or go into private spaces such as exam rooms, they must present a warrant signed by a judge.

“It’s incredibly important that every health care center has somebody who is trained to be able to read those warrants” and determine their validity, Lopas said.

In the San Francisco Bay Area, Zenaida Aguilera has been tapped to read warrants for La Clínica de La Raza. She is the compliance, privacy, and risk officer for the clinic network. If immigration agents show up, she’s on call for all 31 of the organization’s community clinics.

Aguilera is also now in charge of training hundreds of health staffers. She has trained about 250 thus far, but the majority of that work is yet to come.

“We have about, probably, a thousand more staff,” she said.

She fears the Trump administration will target California for immigration enforcement because of its approximately 2 million residents without legal status, the highest of any state, according to the Pew Research Center. In 2022, 11 million people were in the U.S. without authorization.

Aguilera said La Clínica plans to post patients’ constitutional rights in clinic lobbies and will provide resources such as contact information for legal-aid groups.

“We would like to just do the work of caring for our patients rather than train our staff on what to do if there’s an ICE official that tries to come into our clinics,” Aguilera said.

This article is from a partnership that includes NPR and KFF Health News.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

With RFK Jr. in Charge, Supplement Makers See Chance To Cash In

Last fall, before being named the senior U.S. health official, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. said the Trump administration would liberate Americans from the FDA’s “aggressive suppression” of vitamins, dietary supplements, and other substances — ending the federal agency’s “war on public health,” as he put it.

In fact, the FDA can’t even require that supplements be effective before they are sold. When Congress, at the agency’s urging, last considered legislation to require makers of vitamins, herbal remedies, and other pills and potions to show proof of their safety and worth before marketing the products, it got more negative mail, phone calls, and telegrams than at any time since the Vietnam War, by some accounts. The backlash resulted in a 1994 law that enabled the dietary supplement industry to put its products on the market without testing and to tout unproven benefits, as long as the touting doesn’t include claims to treat or cure a disease. Annual industry revenues have grown from $4 billion to $70 billion since.

With Kennedy now in the driver’s seat, the industry will likely expect more: It aims to make bolder health claims for its products and even get the government, private insurers, and flexible spending accounts to pay for supplements, essentially putting them on an equal footing with FDA-approved pharmaceuticals.

On Feb. 13, the day Kennedy was sworn in as secretary of Health and Human Services, President Donald Trump issued a “Make America Healthy Again” agenda targeting alleged corruption in health regulatory agencies and instructing them to “ensure the availability of expanded treatment options and the flexibility for health insurance coverage to provide benefits that support beneficial lifestyle changes and disease prevention.”

Kennedy has said exercise, dietary supplements, and nutrition, rather than pharmaceutical products, are key to good health. Supplement makers want consumers to be able to use programs like health savings accounts, Medicare, and even benefits from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, to pay for such items as vitamins, fish oil, protein powders, and probiotics.

“Essentially they’re seeking a government subsidy,” said Pieter Cohen, a Harvard University physician who studies supplements.

As the Senate Finance Committee questioned Kennedy during his Jan. 29 confirmation hearing, supporters in the Alliance for Natural Health lunched on quinoa salad in the U.S. Capitol Visitor Center and crowed that the moment had finally arrived for their health freedom movement, which has combined libertarian capitalism and mistrust of the medical establishment to champion unregulated compounds since the 19th century.

“The greatest opportunity of our lifetimes is before us,” said Jonathan Emord, the group’s general counsel, who has brought many successful lawsuits against the FDA’s restrictions on unproven health claims. “RFK has dedicated his whole life to opposing the undue influence” of the pharmaceutical industry and “assuring that our interests triumph,” Emord said.

In speeches and in a pamphlet called “The MAHA Mandate,” Emord and alliance founder Robert Verkerk said Kennedy would free companies to make greater claims for their products’ alleged benefits. Emord said his group was preparing to sue the FDA to prevent it from restricting non-pharmaceutical production of substances like biopeptides — complex molecules related to drugs like Ozempic.

HHS spokesperson Andrew Nixon did not respond to a request for comment on the agency’s plans vis-à-vis dietary supplements.

While the basic law governing the FDA establishes that a substance alleged to have treatment or curative effects is by definition a “drug,” and therefore comes under the agency’s requirements for high standards of scientific evidence, the new administration could reallocate money away from enforcement, said Mitch Zeller, former head of the FDA’s Center for Tobacco Products.

As a Senate aide early in his career, Zeller investigated a tainted L-tryptophan supplement that killed at least 30 people and sickened thousands in the U.S. in 1989. The scandal led the FDA to seek heavier regulation of supplements, but a powerful backlash resulted in the relatively weak supplements law of 1994.

Even that law’s enforcement could be undercut with a stroke of the pen that would keep FDA inspectors out of the field, Zeller said.

Sweeping changes couldn’t come too soon for Nathan Jones, founder and CEO of Xlear, a company that makes products containing xylitol, an artificial sweetener. The Federal Trade Commission sued Xlear in 2021 for making what it called false claims that its nasal spray could prevent and treat covid.

Jones points to a handful of studies evaluating whether xylitol prevents cavities and infections, saying the FDA would require overly expensive studies to get xylitol approved as a drug. Meanwhile, he said, dentists have been bought out by “Big Toothpaste.”

One can hardly find any products “without fluoride for oral health,” he said. “Crest and Colgate don’t want it to happen,” he said.

Kennedy’s desire to rid water supplies of fluoride because of its alleged impact on children’s IQ is welcome news, he said, and not only because it could highlight the value of his products. Jones stresses, as do many health freedom advocates, that clean air and water and unadulterated food do more to prevent and cure disease than vaccines and drugs. For example, he and other advocates claim, wrongly, that the United States eliminated the crippling disease polio through better sanitation, not vaccination.

The Alliance for Natural Health hopes that in lieu of strict FDA standards, Kennedy will enable companies to make expanded marketing claims based on evidence from non-FDA sources, Verkerk said, such as the National Institutes of Health’s nutritional information site, which describes the pros and cons of different supplements.

Kennedy has also called for relaxing the strictures on psychedelic drugs, which interest some veterans as potential remedies for such conditions as post-traumatic stress disorder. VETS, a San Diego-based organization, has paid for 1,000 veterans to get treatment with the powerful hallucinogen ibogaine at clinics in Mexico and other countries, said the group’s co-founder Amber Capone.

She got involved after her husband, a retired Navy SEAL, pulled out of a suicidal spiral after spending a week at an ibogaine clinic near Tijuana, Mexico, in 2017. She wants NIH, the Defense Department, and the Department of Veterans Affairs to fund research on the illegal substance — which can cause cardiac complications and is listed as a Schedule I drug, on par with heroin and LSD — so it can be made legally available when appropriate.

Coincidentally, the push for less onerous standards on supplements and psychedelics would come while Kennedy is demanding “gold-standard science” to review preservatives and other food additives that he has said could play a role in the country’s high rate of chronic diseases.

“Put aside the fact that there’s precious little evidence to support” that idea, said Stuart Pape, a former FDA food center attorney. “There’s been no indication they want the same rigor for supplements and nutraceuticals.”

Although most of these products don’t have major safety concerns, “we have no idea which products work, so in the best case people are throwing away a ton of money,” Zeller said. “The worst-case scenario is they are relying on unproven products to treat underlying conditions, and time is going by when they could have been using more effective FDA-authorized products for diseases.”

Supplement makers aren’t entirely unified. Groups such as the Consumer Healthcare Products Association and the Council for Responsible Nutrition have advocated for the FDA to crack down on products that are unsafe or falsely represented. The Alliance for Natural Health and the Natural Products Association, meanwhile, largely want the government to get out of the way.

“The time has come to embrace a radical shift — from reactive disease management to proactive health cultivation, from top-down public health diktats to personalized, individual-centric care,” Emord and Verkerk state in their “MAHA Mandate.”

We’d like to speak with current and former personnel from the Department of Health and Human Services or its component agencies who believe the public should understand the impact of what’s happening within the federal health bureaucracy. Please message KFF Health News on Signal at (415) 519-8778 or get in touch here.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

Can Medicaid’s Popularity Shield It From the Budget Ax? 

Congressional lawmakers are facing tricky arithmetic as they hammer out a budget plan to finance President Donald Trump’s agenda. 

Republicans need to free up roughly $4 trillion to pay for renewing Trump’s 2017 tax cuts, which expire at the end of the year. Trump has vowed not to touch the costliest government programs, including Medicare and Social Security. 

He’s been less clear about his plan for Medicaid. 

On Wednesday, he endorsed a House GOP plan that cuts at least $880 billion from, very likely, Medicaid — the federal-state health insurance program for Americans with low incomes or disabilities. 

As my colleague Phil Galewitz reports, changes to expand Medicaid have become entrenched in most states — and their budgets — over the past decade. Hospitals, which not only treat but also employ a lot of Americans, are reaching out to Congress with concerns. 

Medicaid is also popular. A January KFF poll found that about 3 in 4 Americans view the program favorably. So Republicans would have to be strategic about cuts. 

But first, let’s back up. What is Medicaid? My colleague Sam Whitehead and I published a useful explainer this week. 

Medicaid, which turns 60 this summer, was created as part of President Lyndon B. Johnson’s “Great Society” strategy to attack poverty along with Medicare, the federal health insurance program for those 65 and older. 

More than 79 million people receive services from Medicaid or its closely related Children’s Health Insurance Program. That’s about 20% of the country’s population. 

About 40% of all children are covered by Medicaid or CHIP. Medicaid also pays for 4 in 10 births and covers costs of caring for more than 60% of nursing home residents. 

State and federal spending on the program reached $880 billion last year. 

Back in Washington, Phil writes that the GOP is considering a few strategies to shrink Medicaid. 

They could reduce how much money the federal government sends to states, leaving state leaders to decide whether and how to plug budget holes. 

One idea Republicans are openly talking about is imposing work requirements. Most adults enrolled in Medicaid are already working or probably would be exempt because they’re in school, are caregivers, or are disabled. 

But, as Sam and I report, state experiences with work requirements show they make it harder for even eligible people to get coverage. 

At the heart of it all are key questions about the role of government in people’s health: How big should the U.S. medical insurance safety net be? Who deserves government assistance? 

And, perhaps most urgently, where will those who could lose Medicaid go for coverage?

We’d like to speak with current and former personnel from the Department of Health and Human Services or its component agencies who believe the public should understand the impact of what’s happening within the federal health bureaucracy. Please message KFF Health News on Signal at (415) 519-8778 or get in touch here.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

An Ice Rink To Fight Opioid Crisis: Drug-Free Fun vs. Misuse of Settlement Cash

A Kentucky county nestled in the heart of Appalachia, where the opioid crisis has wreaked devastation for decades, spent $15,000 of its opioid settlement money on an ice rink.

That amount wasn’t enough to solve the county’s troubles, but it could have bought 333 kits of Narcan, a medication that can reverse opioid overdoses. Instead, people are left wondering how a skating rink addresses addiction or fulfills the settlement money’s purpose of remediating the harms of opioids.

Like other local jurisdictions nationwide, Carter County is set to receive a windfall of more than $1 million over the next decade-plus from companies that sold prescription painkillers and were accused of fueling the overdose crisis.

County officials and proponents of the rink say offering youths drug-free fun like skating is an appropriate use of the money. They provided free entry for students who completed the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (D.A.R.E.) curriculum, recovery program participants, and foster families.

But for Brittany Herrington, who grew up in the region and became addicted to painkillers that were flooding the community in the early 2000s, the spending decision is “heartbreaking.”

“How is ice-skating going to teach [kids] how to navigate recovery, how to address these issues within their home, how to understand the disease of addiction?” said Herrington, who is now in long-term recovery and works for a community mental health center, as well as a regional coalition to address substance use.

She and other local advocates agreed that kids deserve enriching activities, but they said the community has more pressing needs that the settlement money was intended to cover.

Carter County’s drug overdose death rate consistently surpasses state and national averages. From 2018 to 2021, when overdose deaths were spiking across the country, the rate was 2.5 times as high in Carter County, according to the research organization NORC.

Other communities have used similar amounts of settlement funding to train community health workers to help people with addiction, and to buy a car to drive people in recovery to job interviews and doctors’ appointments.

Local advocates say $15,000 could have expanded innovative projects already operating in northeastern Kentucky, like First Day Forward, which helps people leaving jail, many of whom have a substance use disorder, and the second-chance employment program at the University of Kentucky’s St. Claire health system, which hires people in recovery to work in the system and pays for them to attend college or a certification program.

“We’ve got these amazing programs that we know are effective,” Herrington said. “And we’re putting an ice-skating rink in. That’s insane to me.”

A yearlong investigation by KFF Health News, along with researchers at the Johns Hopkins University Bloomberg School of Public Health and the national nonprofit Shatterproof, found many jurisdictions spent settlement funds on items and services with tenuous, if any, connections to addiction. Oregon City, Oregon, spent about $30,000 on screening first responders for heart disease. Flint, Michigan, bought a nearly $10,000 sign for a community service center building , and Robeson County, North Carolina, paid about $10,000 for a toy robot ambulance.

Although most of the settlement agreements come with national guidelines explaining the money should be spent on treatment, recovery, and prevention efforts, there is little oversight and the guidelines are open to interpretation.

A Kentucky law lists more than two dozen suggested uses of the funds, including providing addiction treatment in jail and educating the public about opioid disposal. But it is plagued by a similar lack of oversight and broad interpretability.

Chris Huddle and Harley Rayburn, both of whom are elected Carter County magistrates who help administer the county government, told KFF Health News they were confident the ice rink was an allowable, appropriate use of settlement funds because of reassurances from Reneé Parsons, executive director of the Business Cultivation Foundation. The foundation aims to alleviate poverty and related issues, such as addiction, through economic development in northeastern Kentucky.

The Carter County Times reported that Parsons has helped at least nine local organizations apply for settlement dollars. County meeting minutes show she brought the skating rink proposal to county leaders on behalf of the city of Grayson’s tourism commission, asking the county to cover about a quarter of the project’s cost.

In an email, Parsons told KFF Health News that the rink — which was built in downtown Grayson last year and hosted fundraisers for youth clubs and sports teams during the holiday season — serves to “promote family connection and healing” while “laying the groundwork for a year-round hockey program.”

“Without investments in prevention, recovery, and economic development, we risk perpetuating the cycle of addiction in future generations,” she added.

She said the rink, as well as an $80,000 investment of opioid settlement funds to expand music and theater programs at a community center, fit with the principles of the Icelandic prevention model, “which has been unofficially accepted in our region.”

That model is a collaborative community-based approach to preventing substance use that has been highly effective at reducing teenage alcohol use in Iceland over the past 20 years. Instead of expecting children to “just say no,” it focuses on creating an environment where young people can thrive without drugs.

Part of this effort can involve creating fun activities like music classes, theatrical shows, and even ice-skating. But the intervention also requires building a coalition of parents, school staffers, faith leaders, public health workers, researchers, and others, and conducting rigorous data collection, including annual student surveys.

About 120 miles west of Carter County, another Kentucky county has for the past several years been implementing the Icelandic model. Franklin County’s Just Say Yes program includes more than a dozen collaborating organizations and an in-depth annual youth survey. The project began with support from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and has also received opioid settlement dollars from the state.

Parsons did not respond to specific questions about whether Carter County has taken the full complement of steps at the core of the Icelandic model.

If it hasn’t, it can’t expect to get the same results, said Jennifer Carroll, a researcher who studies substance use and wrote a national guide on investing settlement funds in youth-focused prevention.

“Pulling apart different elements, at best, is usually going to waste your money and, at worst, can be counterproductive or even harmful,” she said.

At least one Carter County magistrate has come to regret spending settlement funds on the skating rink.

Millard Cordle told KFF Health News that, after seeing the rink operate over the holidays, he felt it was “a mistake.” Although younger children seemed to enjoy it, older kids didn’t engage as much, nor did it benefit rural parts of the county, he said. In the future, he’d rather see settlement money help get drugs off the street and offer people treatment or job training.

“We all learn as we go along,” he said. “I know there’s not an easy solution. But I think this money can help make a dent.”

As of 2024, Carter County had received more than $630,000 in opioid settlement funds and was set to receive more than $1.5 million over the coming decade, according to online records from the court-appointed settlement administrator.

It’s not clear how much of that money has been spent, beyond the $15,000 for the ice rink and $80,000 for the community arts center.

It’s also uncertain who, if anyone, has the power to determine whether the rink was an allowable use of the money or whether the county would face repercussions.

Kentucky’s Opioid Abatement Advisory Commission, which controls half the state’s opioid settlement funds and serves as a leading voice on this money, declined to comment.

Cities and counties are required to submit quarterly certifications to the commission, promising that their spending is in line with state guidelines. However, the reports provide no detail about how the money is used, leaving the commission with little actionable insight.

At a January meeting, commission members voted to create a reporting system for local governments that would provide more detailed information, potentially opening the door to greater oversight.

That would be a welcome change, said John Bowman, a person in recovery in northeastern Kentucky, who called the money Carter County spent on the ice ink “a waste.”

Bowman works on criminal justice reform with the national nonprofit Dream.org and encounters people with substance use disorders daily, as they struggle to find treatment, a safe place to live, and transportation. Some have to drive over an hour to the doctor, he said — if they have a car.

He hopes local leaders will use settlement funds to address problems like those in the future.

“Let’s use this money for what it’s for,” he said.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

Deny and Delay? California Seeks Penalties for Insurers That Repeatedly Get It Wrong

When Colleen Henderson’s 3-year-old daughter complained of pain while using the bathroom, doctors brushed it off as a urinary tract infection or constipation, common maladies in the potty-training years.

After being told her health insurance wouldn’t cover an ultrasound, Henderson charged the $6,000 procedure to her credit card. Then came the news: There was a grapefruit-sized tumor in her toddler’s bladder.

That was in 2009. The next five years, Henderson said, became a protracted battle against her insurer, UnitedHealthcare, over paying for the specialists who finally diagnosed and treated her daughter’s rare condition, inflammatory pseudotumor. She appealed uncovered hospital stays, surgeries, and medication to the insurer and state regulators, to no avail. The family racked up more than $1 million in medical debt, she said, because the insurer told her treatments recommended by doctors were unnecessary. The family declared bankruptcy.

“If I had not fought tooth and nail every step of the way, my daughter would be dead,” said Henderson, of Auburn, California, whose daughter eventually recovered and is now a thriving 20-year-old junior at Oregon State University. “You pay a lot of money to have health insurance, and you hope that your health insurance has your well-being at the forefront, but that’s not happening at all.”

While insurance denials are on the rise, surveys show few Americans appeal them. Unlike in Henderson’s case, various analyses have found that many who escalate complaints to government regulators successfully get denials overturned. Consumer advocates and policymakers say that’s a clear sign insurance companies routinely deny care they shouldn’t. Now a proposal in the California Legislature seeks to penalize insurers who repeatedly make the wrong call.

While the measure, SB 363, would cover only about a third of insured Californians whose health plans are regulated by the state, experts say it could be one of the boldest attempts in the nation to rein in health insurer denials — before and after care is given. And California could become one of only a handful of states that require insurers to disclose denial rates and reasoning, statistics the industry often considers proprietary information.

The measure also seeks to force insurers to be more judicious with denials and would fine them up to $1 million per case if more than half of appeals filed with regulators are overturned in a year.

In 2023, state data show, about 72% of appeals made to the Department of Managed Health Care, which regulates the vast majority of health plans, resulted in an insurer’s initial denial being reversed.

“When you have health insurance, you should have confidence that it’s going to cover your health care needs,” said Sen. Scott Wiener, the San Francisco Democrat who introduced the bill. “They can just delay, deny, obstruct, and, in many cases, avoid having to cover medically necessary care, and it’s unacceptable.”

A spokesperson for the California Association of Health Plans declined to comment, saying the group was still reviewing the bill language. Gov. Gavin Newsom’s spokesperson Elana Ross said his office generally does not comment on pending legislation.

Concerned about spiraling consumer health costs, state lawmakers across the nation have increasingly looked for ways to verify that insurers are paying claims fairly.

In 2024, 17 states enacted legislation dealing with prior authorization of care by private insurers, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures. Connecticut, which has one of the most robust denial rate disclosure laws, publishes an annual report card detailing the number and percentage of claims each insurer has denied, as well as the share that ends up getting reversed. Oregon published similar information until recently, when state disclosure requirements lapsed.

In California, there’s no way to know how often insurers deny care, which health experts say is especially troubling as mental health care is reaching crisis levels among children and young adults. According to Keith Humphreys, a health policy professor at Stanford University, it’s easier to deny mental health care because a diagnosis of, say, depression can be more subjective than that of a broken limb or cancer.

“We think it’s unacceptable that the state has absolutely no idea how big of a problem this is,” said Lishaun Francis, senior director of behavioral health for the advocacy group Children Now, a sponsor of the bill.

Under Wiener’s proposal, private insurers regulated by the Department of Managed Health Care and the Department of Insurance would be required to submit detailed data about denials and appeals. They would also need to explain those denials and report the outcomes of the appeals.

For appeals that make it to the state’s independent medical review process, known as IMR, insurers whose denials are overturned more than half the time would face staggering penalties. The first case that brings a company above the 50% threshold would trigger a fine of $50,000, with a penalty ranging from $100,000 to $400,000 for a second. Each one after that would cost $1 million.

If passed, the measure would cover roughly 12.8 million Californians on private insurance. It would not apply to patients on Medi-Cal, the state’s Medicaid program, or Medicare, and it would exclude self-insured plans offered by large employers, which are regulated by the U.S. Department of Labor and cover roughly 5.6 million Californians.

The phrase “deny and delay” continues to reverberate across the health care industry after the killing of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson. A survey by NORC at the University of Chicago released shortly after the brazen attack revealed that 7 in 10 people said they believed denials for health coverage and profits by health insurance companies bore a great deal or a moderate amount of responsibility for Thompson’s death.

Following Thompson’s death, UnitedHealthcare said in statements that “highly inaccurate and grossly misleading information” had been circulated about the way the company treats claims and that insurers, which are highly regulated, “typically have low- to mid-single digit margins.”

Wiener called Thompson’s killing a “cold-blooded assassination” but said his bill grew out of a narrower proposal that failed last year aimed at improving mental health coverage for children and adults under age 26. But he acknowledged the nation’s reaction to the killing underscores the long-simmering anger many Americans feel about health insurers’ practices and the urgent need for reform.

Humphreys, the Stanford professor, said the U.S. health system creates strong financial incentives for insurers to deny care. And, he added, state and federal penalties are paltry enough to be written off as a cost of doing business.

“The more care they deny, the more money they make,” he said.

Increasingly, large employers are starting to include language in contracts with claim administrators that would penalize them for approving too many or too few claims, said Shawn Gremminger, president of the National Alliance of Healthcare Purchaser Coalitions.

Gremminger represents mostly large employers who fund their own insurance, are federally regulated, and would be excluded from Wiener’s bill. But even for such so-called self-funded plans, it can be nearly impossible to determine denial rates for the insurance companies hired simply to administer claims, he said.

While it could be too late for many families, Sandra Maturino, of Rialto, said she hopes lawmakers tackle insurance denials so other Californians can avoid the saga she endured to get her niece treatment.

She adopted the girl, now 13, after her sister died. Her niece had long struggled with self-harm and violent behavior, but when therapists recommended inpatient psychiatric care, her insurer, Anthem Blue Cross, would cover it for only 30 days.

For more than a year, Maturino said, her niece cycled in and out of facilities and counseling because her insurance wouldn’t cover a long-term stay. Doctors tested a laundry list of prescription drugs and doses. None of it worked.

Anthem declined a request for comment.

Eventually, Maturino got her niece into a residential program in Utah, paid for by the adoption agency, where she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and has been undergoing treatment for a year.

Maturino said she didn’t have the energy to appeal to Anthem. “I wasn’t going to wait around for the insurance to kill her, or for her to hurt somebody,” Maturino said.

This article was produced by KFF Health News, which publishes California Healthline, an editorially independent service of the California Health Care Foundation. 

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

Pain Clinics Made Millions From ‘Unnecessary’ Injections Into ‘Human Pin Cushions’

McMINNVILLE, Tenn. — Each month, Michelle Shaw went to a pain clinic to get the shots that made her back feel worse — so she could get the pills that made her back feel better.

Shaw, 56, who has been dependent on opioid painkillers since she injured her back in a fall a decade ago, said in both an interview with KFF Health News and in sworn courtroom testimony that the Tennessee clinic would write the prescriptions only if she first agreed to receive three or four “very painful” injections of another medicine along her spine.

The clinic claimed the injections were steroids that would relieve her pain, Shaw said, but with each shot her agony would grow. Shaw said she eventually tried to decline the shots, then the clinic issued an ultimatum: Take the injections or get her painkillers somewhere else.

“I had nowhere else to go at the time,” Shaw testified, according to a federal court transcript. “I was stuck.”

Shaw was among thousands of patients of Pain MD, a multistate pain management company that was once among the nation’s most prolific users of what it referred to as “tendon origin injections,” which normally inject a single dose of steroids to relieve stiff or painful joints. As many doctors were scaling back their use of prescription painkillers due to the opioid crisis, Pain MD paired opioids with monthly injections into patients’ backs, claiming the shots could ease pain and potentially lessen reliance on painkillers, according to federal court documents.

Now, years later, Pain MD’s injections have been proved in court to be part of a decade-long fraud scheme that made millions by capitalizing on patients’ dependence on opioids. The Department of Justice has successfully argued at trial that Pain MD’s “unnecessary and expensive injections” were largely ineffective because they targeted the wrong body part, contained short-lived numbing medications but no steroids, and appeared to be based on test shots given to cadavers — people who felt neither pain nor relief because they were dead.

Four Pain MD employees have pleaded guilty or been convicted of health care fraud, including company president Michael Kestner, who was found guilty of 13 felonies at an October trial in Nashville, Tennessee. According to a transcript from Kestner’s trial that became public in December, witnesses testified that the company documented giving patients about 700,000 total injections over about eight years and said some patients got as many as 24 shots at once.

“The defendant, Michael Kestner, found out about an injection that could be billed a lot and paid well,” said federal prosecutor James V. Hayes as the trial began, according to the transcript. “And they turned some patients into human pin cushions.”

The Department of Justice declined to comment for this article. Kestner’s attorneys either declined to comment or did not respond to requests for an interview. At trial, Kestner’s attorneys argued that he was a well-intentioned businessman who wanted to run pain clinics that offered more than just pills. He is scheduled to be sentenced on April 21 in a federal court in Nashville.

According to the transcript of Kestner’s trial, Shaw and three other former patients testified that Pain MD’s injections did not ease their pain and sometimes made it worse. The patients said they tolerated the shots only so Pain MD wouldn’t cut off their prescriptions, without which they might have spiraled into withdrawal.

“They told me that if I didn’t take the shots — because I said they didn’t help — I would not get my medication,” testified Patricia McNeil, a former patient in Tennessee, according to the trial transcript. “I took the shots to get my medication.”

In her interview with KFF Health News, Shaw said that often she would arrive at the Pain MD clinic walking with a cane but would leave in a wheelchair because the injections left her in too much pain to walk.

“That was the pain clinic that was supposed to be helping me,” Shaw said in her interview. “I would come home crying. It just felt like they were using me.”

‘Not Actually Injections Into Tendons at All’

Pain MD, which sometimes operated under the name Mid-South Pain Management, ran as many as 20 clinics in Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina throughout much of the 2010s. Some clinics averaged more than 12 injections per patient each month, and at least two patients each received more than 500 shots in total, according to federal court documents.

All those injections added up. According to Medicare data filed in federal court, Pain MD and Mid-South Pain Management billed Medicare for more than 290,000 “tendon origin injections” from January 2010 to May 2018, which is about seven times that of any other Medicare biller in the U.S. over the same period.

Tens of thousands of additional injections were billed to Medicaid and Tricare during those same years, according to federal court documents. Pain MD billed these government programs for about $111 per injection and collected more than $5 million from the government for the shots, according to the court documents.

More injections were billed to private insurance too. Christy Wallace, an audit manager for BlueCross BlueShield of Tennessee, testified that Pain MD billed the insurance company about $40 million for more than 380,000 injections from January 2010 to March 2013. BlueCross paid out about $7 million before it cut off Pain MD, Wallace said.

These kinds of enormous billing allegations are not uncommon in health care fraud cases, in which fraudsters sometimes find a legitimate treatment that insurance will pay for and then overuse it to the point of absurdity, said Don Cochran, a former U.S. attorney for the Middle District of Tennessee.

Tennessee alone has seen fraud allegations for unnecessary billing of urine testing, skin creams, and other injections in just the past decade. Federal authorities have also investigated an alleged fraud scheme involving a Tennessee company and hundreds of thousands of catheters billed to Medicare, according to The Washington Post, citing anonymous sources.

Cochran said the Pain MD case felt especially “nefarious” because it used opioids to make patients play along.

“A scheme where you get Medicare or Medicaid money to provide a medically unnecessary treatment is always going to be out there,” Cochran said. “The opioid piece just gives you a universe of compliant people who are not going to question what you are doing.”

“It was only opioids that made those folks come back,” he said.

The allegations against Pain MD became public in 2018 when Cochran and the Department of Justice filed a civil lawsuit against the company, Kestner, and several associated clinics, alleging that Pain MD defrauded taxpayers and government insurance programs by billing for “tendon origin injections” that were “not actually injections into tendons at all.”

Kestner, Pain MD, and several associated clinics have each denied all allegations in that lawsuit, which is ongoing.Scott Kreiner, an expert on spine care and pain medicine who testified at Kestner’s criminal trial, said that true tendon origin injections (or TOIs) typically are used to treat inflamed joints, like the condition known as “tennis elbow,” by injecting steroids or platelet-rich plasma into a tendon. Kreiner said most patients need only one shot at a time, according to the transcript.

But Pain MD made repeated injections into patients’ backs that contained only lidocaine or Marcaine, which are anesthetic medications that cause numbness for mere hours, Kreiner testified. Pain MD also used needles that were often too short to reach back tendons, Kreiner said, and there was no imaging technology used to aim the needle anyway. Kreiner said he didn’t find any injections in Pain MD’s records that appeared medically necessary, and even if they had been, no one could need so many.

“I simply cannot fathom a scenario where the sheer quantity of TOIs that I observed in the patient records would ever be medically necessary,” Kreiner said, according to the trial transcript. “This is not even a close call.”

Jonathan White, a physician assistant who administered injections at Pain MD and trained other employees to do so, then later testified against Kestner as part of a plea deal, said at trial that he believed Pain MD’s injection technique was based on a “cadaveric investigation.”

According to the trial transcript, White said that while working at Pain MD he realized he could find no medical research that supported performing tendon origin injections on patients’ backs instead of their joints. When he asked if Pain MD had any such research, White said, an employee responded with a two-paragraph letter from a Tennessee anatomy professor — not a medical doctor — that said it was possible to reach the region of back tendons in a cadaver by injecting “within two fingerbreadths” of the spine. This process was “exactly the procedure” that was taught at Pain MD, White said.

During his own testimony, Kreiner said it was “potentially dangerous” to inject a patient as described in the letter, which should not have been used to justify medical care.

“This was done on a dead person,” Kreiner said, according to the trial transcript. “So the letter says nothing about how effective the treatment is.”

Over-Injecting ‘Killed My Hand’

Pain MD collapsed into bankruptcy in 2019, leaving some patients unable to get new prescriptions because their medical records were stuck in locked storage units, according to federal court records.

At the time, Pain MD defended the injections and its practice of discharging patients who declined the shots. When a former patient publicly accused the company of treating his back “like a dartboard,” Pain MD filed a defamation lawsuit, then dropped the suit about a month later.

“These are interventional clinics, so that’s what they offer,” Jay Bowen, a then-attorney for Pain MD, told The Tennessean newspaper in 2019. “If you don’t want to consider acupuncture, don’t go to an acupuncture clinic. If you don’t want to buy shoes, don’t go to a shoe store.”

Kestner’s trial told another story. According to the trial transcript, eight former Pain MD medical providers testified that the driving force behind Pain MD’s injections was Kestner himself, who is not a medical professional and yet regularly pressured employees to give more shots.

One nurse practitioner testified that she received emails “every single workday” pushing for more injections. Others said Kestner openly ranked employees by their injection rates, and implied that those who ranked low might be fired.

“He told me that if I had to feed my family based on my productivity, that they would starve,” testified Amanda Fryer, a nurse practitioner who was not charged with any crime.

Brian Richey, a former Pain MD nurse practitioner who at times led the company’s injection rankings, and has since taken a plea deal that required him to testify in court, said at the trial that he “performed so many injections” that his hand became chronically inflamed and required surgery.

“‘Over injecting killed my hand,’” Richey said on the witness stand, reading a text message he sent to another Pain MD employee in 2017, according to the trial transcript. “‘I was in so much pain Injecting people that didnt want it but took it to stay a patient.’”

“Why would they want to stay there?” a prosecutor asked.

“To keep getting their narcotics,” Richey responded, according to the trial transcript.

Throughout the trial, defense attorney Peter Strianse argued that Pain MD’s focus on injections was a result of Kestner’s “obsession” with ensuring that the company “would never be called a pill mill.”

Strianse said that Kestner “stayed up at night worrying” about patients coming to clinics only to get opioid prescriptions, so he pushed his employees to administer injections, too.

“Employers motivating employees is not a crime,” Strianse said at closing arguments, according to the court transcript. “We get pushed every day to perform. It’s not fraud; it’s a fact of life.”

Prosecutors insisted that this defense rang hollow. During the trial, former employees had testified that most patients’ opioid dosages remained steady or increased while at Pain MD, and that the clinics did not taper off the painkillers no matter how many injections were given.

“Giving them injections does not fix the pill mill problem,” federal prosecutor Katherine Payerle said during closing arguments, according to the trial transcript. “The way to fix being a pill mill is to stop giving the drugs or taper the drugs.”

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

Iowa Medicaid Sends $4M Bills to Two Families Grieving Deaths of Loved Ones With Disabilities

Collection agents for the state of Iowa have sent letters seeking millions of dollars from the estates of at least two people with disabilities who died after spending most of their lives in a state institution.

The amounts represent what Medicaid spent covering the residents’ care when they lived at the Glenwood Resource Center, a state-run facility that closed last summer.

The bills are extraordinary examples of a practice called Medicaid estate recovery. Federal law requires states to try to collect money after some types of Medicaid recipients die. The point is to encourage people to use their own resources before relying on the public program. But some states, including Iowa, are particularly aggressive about the collections, national reports show.

Joy Higgins was stunned by a letter she received a few weeks after her 41-year-old daughter, Kristin, died last May. The letter was written on Iowa Department of Health and Human Services stationery. At the top, in bold letters, it said, “Re: Kristin Higgins.”

“Dear Joy Higgins,” the letter read. “Our sincere condolences to you, as we understand the above person is deceased.”

The letter explained that any money Kristin Higgins left behind would have to be remitted to the state to help repay Medicaid $4,263,148.67. Her family had 30 days to respond.

Joy Higgins, who lives in Council Bluffs, wonders why state debt collectors would send a massive bill to the family of someone like her daughter, who had little income because of a severe developmental disability stemming from a premature birth.

“What are they gaining? That’s my question. Except for kicking someone in the face right after they lost a loved one?” Higgins said.

Kristin Higgins’ only income was a Social Security disability benefit of $1,105 monthly. Most of that went directly to the state institution, where she lived for more than 30 years. Just $50 was set aside monthly as an allowance for personal expenses, according to a state ledger obtained by her family. “They knew exactly how much she had,” her mother said.

When she died, Kristin’s personal account had a balance of $2,239.84. The family put that money toward her funeral, an allowed expense. Nothing was left for the state to take. Higgins said receiving the letter was traumatic even though the family didn’t have to pay the Medicaid bill.

The Higginses have heard about similar attempts to collect from other families, including that of Eric Tomlyn, who died in 2020 at age 29 after spending most of his life at the Glenwood Resource Center.

Shortly after his death, the Tomlyn family received a Medicaid bill of more than $4.2 million. His mother, Susan Tomlyn, was shocked by the letter. “I was like, ‘What? What? Oh my God,’” she recalled.

She filled out a form explaining that the small balance in her son’s personal account had gone toward his funeral. “That’s the last I heard of it,” Tomlyn said.

Supporters of estate recovery efforts say the rules encourage people to pay for their own care before applying for Medicaid, which is mainly intended to help those with little money.

Critics of estate recovery programs say they often target families with little to give. Wealthier families tend to have lawyers who can structure estates in ways that avoid Medicaid repayment demands, the critics note.

Like Higgins, Tomlyn thought her Medicaid recovery bill came from state officials because it was printed on letterhead from the Iowa Department of Health and Human Services. The people who signed the letters identified themselves as being from the “Estate Recovery Program.” But the people who produce such letters work for private contractors hired to collect Medicaid debts, according to Alex Murphy, a spokesperson for the state agency. Their contract requires them to use state stationery.

Murphy said in an email to KFF Health News that such letters are sent after every death of an Iowa Medicaid recipient who was at least 55 years old or who lived in a long-term care facility. He said the letters “request information from family members regarding the deceased person’s assets and expenses,” and the letters note that repayments are expected only from the person’s estate.

Iowa’s Medicaid collections are handled by Sumo Group, a Des Moines company. Its director, Ben Chatman, declined to answer questions, including why the company sent bills to families of people with disabilities who lived most of their lives in state institutions. “I don’t do media relations,” Chatman said.

Sumo Group is a subcontractor of a national company, Gainwell Technologies, which has handled Medicaid collections for several states. In Iowa, the company is paid 11% of whatever it can collect from the estates of Medicaid participants. A spokesperson for Gainwell declined to comment.

Iowa’s Medicaid estate recovery program brought in $40.2 million in the fiscal year that ended last June, up nearly 14% from two years earlier, state records show. That total represents a sliver of the state’s total Medicaid budget, which is expected to hit $9 billion this year.

Nearly two-thirds of Iowa estate recovery cases wound up being closed with no collection of money last fiscal year, according to the state. In cases in which money was recouped, the average amount paid was about $10,000.

Thirty-five Iowa families were granted hardship waivers, which the state allows if an heir’s health or life would be endangered because payment of the Medicaid bill would deprive them of food, clothing, shelter, or medical care. Officials denied an additional 20 requests for hardship waivers.

A 2021 report to Congress estimated states collected more than $700 million annually from Medicaid participants’ estates. That money is shared with the federal government, which helps finance Medicaid. Some states claw back much less than others. Hawaii, for example, collected just $31,000 in 2019, the latest year analyzed in the federal report. Iowa, with about twice as many residents as Hawaii, raked back more than $26 million that year.

Americans aren’t subject to such clawbacks for using any other federal health program, including Medicare, which covers older people of all income levels.

The national group Justice in Aging has helped lead opposition to Medicaid estate recovery programs. Eric Carlson, a California attorney for the group, said the issue usually comes into play after the death of a person who had nursing home care covered by Medicaid. Recovery demands often force survivors to sell homes that are their families’ main form of wealth, he said.

Carlson said he hadn’t previously heard of Medicaid estate recovery bills topping $4 million, like the ones sent to survivors of the two Iowans with disabilities.

He wondered why debt collectors would pursue such cases, which are unlikely to yield any money but could cause anxiety for families. “Of course, if you open up a piece of mail that says you owe millions of dollars, you’re going to think the worst,” he said.

Carlson said he would advise anyone who receives such a letter to respond to it with documentation showing that their loved one’s estate can’t repay a Medicaid debt. “It’s never a good idea to ignore it,” he said. Failure to respond to the bill could lead to continued collection efforts, which could threaten a family member’s finances or property, he said.

Some states have reined in their Medicaid clawback efforts. For example, Massachusetts legislators last year voted to drastically limit their program. This was the second time Massachusetts reduced its Medicaid estate recovery effort, which once was one of the most aggressive in the U.S.

Critics in Congress have also tried to limit the practice.

Rep. Jan Schakowsky (D-Ill.) has twice introduced bills to eliminate the federal requirement that states claw back Medicaid spending from recipients’ estates. Last year’s bill gained 47 Democratic co-sponsors, but it received no support from the Republicans controlling the chamber, and there was no similar bill in the Senate. She plans to try again this year, even though her party remains in the minority.

Schakowsky said in an interview that she’d never heard of Medicaid estate recovery demands reaching millions of dollars, as the Iowa families faced. But demands for hundreds of thousands of dollars are common. For many families, “that’s still impossible” to meet, she said.

Schakowsky hopes that members of Congress from both parties will agree to curtail the program once they realize how much angst it causes their constituents and how relatively little money it returns to the government. “The whole program is ridiculous,” she said.

Her quest could become even tougher if the Trump administration moves ahead with proposals to trim Medicaid spending.

The office of Sen. Chuck Grassley, who is the senior member of Iowa’s all-Republican congressional delegation and has taken leading roles in many health policy debates, declined to comment on the issue.

The Iowa Department of Health and Human Services said it notifies families about the estate recovery process when they apply for Medicaid. Joy Higgins said she doesn’t recall seeing such a notice.

The institution where Kristin Higgins spent most of her life was closed last year after federal officials investigated complaints of poor medical care. But Joy Higgins said her daughter was treated well there overall. “If I had millions in the bank, I’d give it to the state,” she said. “I would. It was worth it.”

Has your family been sent bills for repayment of Medicaid expenses after the death of a loved one who was covered by the program? Click here to tell KFF Health News your story.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

Se busca médico: estrategias de un pueblito de Florida para atraer a un doctor generalista

HAVANA, Florida. — Para ser una comunidad rural, este pueblo de 1,750 habitantes ha sido más afortunado que la mayoría. Aquí ha ejercido un médico de familia durante los últimos 30 años.

Pero eso se acabó en diciembre cuando Mark Newberry se jubiló.

Para atraer a un nuevo médico, los líderes de Havana publicaron anuncios clasificados en los periódicos locales, avisos en las redes sociales y llegaron a un atractivo acuerdo con un consultorio médico libre de renta equipado con una máquina de rayos X, una máquina de ultrasonido y un escáner para medir la densidad ósea, todo propiedad de la ciudad.

Los líderes locales esperan que la campaña de reclutamiento ayude a atraer candidatos en medio de una escasez nacional de médicos.

“Esto es importante para nuestra comunidad”, dijo Kendrah Wilkerson, administradora de Havana, “de la misma manera que los parques son importantes y una buena planificación futura es importante”.

Según un informe del Departamento de Salud de Florida, la escasez de médicos afecta a la totalidad o a parte de casi todos los condados, pero los menos poblados, como Gadsden, donde se encuentra Havana, tienen el menor número de médicos por cada 10,000 habitantes.

Se espera que la escasez de médicos en Florida aumente en la próxima década, y un estudio prevé una necesidad de 18.000 médicos en todo el estado, incluidos 6.000 de atención primaria, para 2035.

“Es un problema enorme”, señaló Matthew Smeltzer, socio de Capstone Recruiting Advisors, una empresa que ayuda a hospitales, consultorios médicos y otros empleadores a encontrar y contratar doctores. “Probablemente, los pueblos pequeños son los más afectados, simplemente porque la mayoría de las personas prefiere vivir en una comunidad mediana o grande”.

En este entorno desafiante, los líderes de Havana esperan que los anuncios y las ventajas de renta gratuita hagan que su pueblo llame la atención y poder atraer a un médico.

Wilkerson describe a la comunidad, situada junto a la frontera sur de Georgia, como un lugar ideal para formar una familia. Sus caminos rurales están bordeados de iglesias, granjas y prados. La calle principal del pueblo tiene tiendas de antigüedades, de regalos, almacenes y restaurantes.

“Todo lo que te imaginas de una película de Hallmark es un poco lo que tenemos aquí”, afirmó Wilkerson. “Las personas todavía se preocupan por los demás y se cuidan, y los vecinos son realmente amigos”.

Ofreciendo generosos incentivos fue como los líderes de la municipalidad consiguieron que Newberry comenzara a ejercer en Havana, en 1993. La ciudad le dio a Newberry un trato inicial similar al que ofrece ahora, y más tarde comenzó a proporcionarle unos $15.000 al año en apoyo financiero.

Newberry, que atendió a unos 2.000 pacientes, no quiso que lo entrevistaran. “¡Me estoy jubilando!”, escribió en un correo electrónico, y agregó que “el pueblo ha elegido formas poco convencionales” de contratar a un médico.

Al subvencionar el consultorio y el uso de equipos médicos para atraer a un médico, Havana está velando por las necesidades de sus residentes, añadió Wilkerson.

Al perder a su médico local, algunos de los antiguos pacientes de Newberry tienen que viajar a Tallahassee, a unos 30 minutos en coche al sureste de Havana. Otros ven a médicos en Quincy, a unos 20 minutos en coche al oeste.

“Esperamos que vuelvan cuando encontremos un nuevo médico”, dijo el alcalde de Havana, Eddie Bass.

Susan Freiden, ex administradora de la municipalidad que se jubiló en 2006, señaló que tener un médico local también es importante para satisfacer las necesidades de los residentes de bajos ingresos, muchos de los cuales son adultos mayores. “No todo el mundo puede ir a Tallahassee para ver a un médico”, dijo. “No todo el mundo tiene transporte”.

Pero queda por ver si toda la oferta es suficiente para atraer a un médico a Havana. La campaña de reclutamiento ha despertado mucho interés entre las enfermeras, pero pocos médicos de atención primaria han solicitado el puesto.

Los líderes del pueblo dicen que no pierden la esperanza de encontrar un médico de familia, que pueda ejercer y recetar medicamentos de forma independiente.

“Realmente preferiríamos tener un médico de verdad que pueda ocuparse de todo esto por nosotros”, afirmó Bass.

Smeltzer, el caza talentos de médicos, apuntó que los médicos de atención primaria son especialmente escasos. Y aunque, según su experiencia, Florida, Carolina del Norte, Tennessee y Texas se encuentran entre los lugares donde los médicos quieren vivir y trabajar, a menudo se necesita algo más para persuadirlos de que trabajen en un pequeño municipio, dijo.

“Si alguien quiere ejercer en un pueblo pequeño, es más probable que vaya a donde tenga vínculos, ya sean ellos mismos o su cónyuge o pareja”, apuntó.

Smeltzer dijo que el reto para una comunidad del tamaño de Havana es que “puede que, literalmente, no haya nadie de ese pueblo que haya ido a la facultad de medicina. O, si lo hay, tal vez sea uno. Pero, ¿era médico de atención primaria?”.

Aun así, hay esperanza. Smeltzer señaló que los médicos jóvenes están dando mucha importancia al equilibrio entre la vida laboral y la personal, y la relación con el paciente, cualidades que pueden dar ventaja a una consulta independiente en un pueblo pequeño.

“Hemos oído hablar de la calidad de vida y del equilibrio entre la vida laboral y la personal mucho más en los últimos tres o cinco años que nunca antes”, agregó, “y eso va casi de la mano con la compensación en cuanto a lo que buscan”.

Freiden, la ex administradora de Havana, dijo que esos son los mismos valores que tenía Newberry cuando comenzó a ejercer aquí. Ella mismo se convirtió en una de sus pacientes.

“Era perfecto”, señaló, “porque no todo era dinero, como puedes imaginar. Era un médico diferente”.

Afortunadamente para Havana, la ciudad ha despertado recientemente el interés de un médico de familia que creció aquí, estudió medicina y espera terminar una residencia de tres años en el Tallahassee Memorial HealthCare en junio.

Camron Browning, graduado en 2003 de la escuela secundaria Northside Havana, declaró ante el Consejo Municipal de siete miembros, en diciembre, que se estaba especializando en medicina familiar y que, durante su residencia, había visto a miles de pacientes, asistido partos y adquirido experiencia como médico de hospitalización.

“Mi objetivo”, dijo, “es poder volver a casa y servir a mi pueblo natal”.

Smeltzer indicó que los incentivos de Havana podrían ser atractivos para los nuevos médicos como Browning, que se enfrentarían a unos costos iniciales desalentadores para establecer una consulta independiente.

Tras la entrevista de diciembre, el Consejo votó por unanimidad iniciar las negociaciones del contrato con Browning, quien dijo que tenía previsto estar listo para atender a los pacientes lo antes posible tras completar su residencia.

“Estoy aquí para quedarme”, dijo Browning al Consejo. “Este siempre fue mi sueño”.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

Urgent CDC Data and Analyses on Influenza and Bird Flu Go Missing as Outbreaks Escalate

Sonya Stokes, an emergency room physician in the San Francisco Bay Area, braces herself for a daily deluge of patients sick with coughs, soreness, fevers, vomiting, and other flu-like symptoms.

She’s desperate for information, but the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, a critical source of urgent analyses of the flu and other public health threats, has gone quiet in the weeks since President Donald Trump took office.

“Without more information, we are blind,” she said.

Flu has been brutal this season. The CDC estimates at least 24 million illnesses, 310,000 hospitalizations, and 13,000 deaths from the flu since the start of October. At the same time, the bird flu outbreak continues to infect cattle and farmworkers. But CDC analyses that would inform people about these situations are delayed, and the CDC has cut off communication with doctors, researchers, and the World Health Organization, say doctors and public health experts.

“CDC right now is not reporting influenza data through the WHO global platforms, FluNet [and] FluID, that they’ve been providing information [on] for many, many years,” Maria Van Kerkhove, interim director of epidemic and pandemic preparedness at the WHO, said at a Feb. 12 press briefing.

“We are communicating with them,” she added, “but we haven’t heard anything back.”

On his first day in office, President Donald Trump announced the U.S. would withdraw from the WHO.

A critical analysis of the seasonal flu selected for distribution through the CDC’s Health Alert Network has stalled, according to people close to the CDC. They asked not to be identified because of fears of retaliation. The network, abbreviated as HAN, is the CDC’s main method of sharing urgent public health information with health officials, doctors, and, sometimes, the public.

A chart from that analysis, reviewed by KFF Health News, suggests that flu may be at a record high. About 7.7% of patients who visited clinics and hospitals without being admitted had flu-like symptoms in early February, a ratio higher than in four other flu seasons depicted in the graph. That includes 2003-04, when an atypical strain of flu fueled a particularly treacherous season that killed at least 153 children.

Without a complete analysis, however, it’s unclear whether this tidal wave of sickness foreshadows a spike in hospitalizations and deaths that hospitals, pharmacies, and schools must prepare for. Specifically, other data could relay how many of the flu-like illnesses are caused by flu viruses — or which flu strain is infecting people. A deeper report might also reveal whether the flu is more severe or contagious than usual.

“I need to know if we are dealing with a more virulent strain or a coinfection with another virus that is making my patients sicker, and what to look for so that I know if my patients are in danger,” Stokes said. “Delays in data create dangerous situations on the front line.”

Although the CDC’s flu dashboard shows a surge of influenza, it doesn’t include all data needed to interpret the situation. Nor does it offer the tailored advice found in HAN alerts that tells health care workers how to protect patients and the public. In 2023, for example, a report urged clinics to test patients with respiratory symptoms rather than assume cases are the flu, since other viruses were causing similar issues that year.

“This is incredibly disturbing,” said Rachel Hardeman, a member of the Advisory Committee to the Director of the CDC. On Feb. 10, Hardeman and other committee members wrote to acting CDC Director Susan Monarez asking the agency to explain missing data, delayed studies, and potentially severe staff cuts. “The CDC is vital to our nation’s security,” the letter said.

Several studies have also been delayed or remain missing from the CDC’s preeminent scientific publication, the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report. Anne Schuchat, a former principal deputy director at the CDC, said she would be concerned if there was political oversight of scientific material: “Suppressing information is potentially confusing, possibly dangerous, and it can backfire.”

CDC spokesperson Melissa Dibble declined to comment on delayed or missing analyses. “It is not unexpected to see flu activity elevated and increasing at this time of the year,” she said.

A draft of one unpublished study, reviewed by KFF Health News, that has been withheld from the MMWR for three weeks describes how a milk hauler and a dairy worker in Michigan may have spread bird flu to their pet cats. The indoor cats became severely sick and died. Although the workers weren’t tested, the study says that one of them had irritated eyes before the cat fell ill — a common bird flu symptom. That person told researchers that the pet “would roll in their work clothes.”

After one cat became sick, the investigation reports, an adolescent in the household developed a cough. But the report says this young person tested negative for the flu, and positive for a cold-causing virus.

Corresponding CDC documents summarizing the cat study and another as-yet unpublished bird flu analysis said the reports were scheduled to be published Jan. 23. These were reviewed by KFF Health News. The briefing on cats advises dairy farmworkers to “remove clothing and footwear, and rinse off any animal biproduct residue before entering the household to protect others in the household, including potentially indoor-only cats.”

The second summary refers to “the most comprehensive” analysis of bird flu virus detected in wastewater in the United States.

Jennifer Nuzzo, director of the Pandemic Center at Brown University, said delays of bird flu reports are upsetting because they’re needed to inform the public about a worsening situation with many unknown elements. Citing “insufficient data” and “high uncertainty,” the United Kingdom raised its assessment of the risk posed by the U.S. outbreak on dairies.

“Missing and delayed data causes uncertainty,” Nuzzo said. “It also potentially makes us react in ways that are counterproductive.”

Another bird flu study slated for January publication showed up in the MMWR on Feb. 13, three weeks after it was expected. It revealed that three cattle veterinarians had been unknowingly infected last year, based on the discovery of antibodies against the bird flu virus in their blood. One of the veterinarians worked in Georgia and South Carolina, states that haven’t reported outbreaks on dairy farms.

The study provides further evidence that the United States is not adequately detecting cases in cows and people. Nuzzo said it also highlights how data can supply reassuring news. Only three of 150 cattle veterinarians had signs of prior infections, suggesting that the virus doesn’t easily spread from the animals into people. More than 40 dairy workers have been infected, but they generally have had more sustained contact with sick cattle and their virus-laden milk than veterinarians.

Instead, recently released reports have been about wildfires in California and Hawaii.

“Interesting but not urgent,” Nuzzo said, considering the acute fire emergencies have ended. The bird flu outbreak, she said, is an ongoing “urgent health threat for which we need up-to-the-minute information to know how to protect people.”

“The American public is at greater risk when we don’t have information on a timely basis,” Schuchat said.

This week, a federal judge ordered the CDC and other health agencies to “restore” datasets and websites that the organization Doctors for America had identified in a lawsuit as having been altered. Further, the judge ordered the agencies to “identify any other resources that DFA members rely on to provide medical care” and restore them by Feb. 14.

In their letter, CDC advisory committee members requested an investigation into missing data and delayed reports. Hardeman, an adviser who is a health policy expert at the University of Minnesota, said the group didn’t know why data and scientific findings were being withheld or removed. Still, she added, “I hold accountable the acting director of the CDC, the head of HHS, and the White House.”

Hardeman said the Trump administration has the power to disband the advisory committee. She said the group expects that to happen but proceeded with its demands regardless.

“We want to safeguard the rigor of the work at the CDC because we care deeply about public health,” she said. “We aren’t here to be silent.”

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts:

As States Mull Medicaid Work Requirements, Two Scale Theirs Back

President Donald Trump’s return to the White House sent a clear signal about Medicaid to Republicans across the country: Requiring enrollees to prove they are working, volunteering, or going to school is back on the table.

The day after Trump’s inauguration, South Carolina GOP Gov. Henry McMaster asked federal officials to approve a work requirement plan. Ohio Republican Gov. Mike DeWine plans to soon follow suit. Republicans in Congress are eyeing Medicaid work requirements as they seek to slash billions from the federal budget.

But, just as a second Trump administration reignites interest in work requirements, Georgia is proposing to scale back key parts of the nation’s only active program. And Arkansas announced an effort to revive — with fundamental changes — a program that ended after a legal judgment in 2019.

The Georgia and Arkansas proposals, from the only two states to have implemented Medicaid work requirements, reveal the disconnect between rhetoric behind such programs and the realities of running them, said consumer advocates and health policy researchers.

“They recognize that what they did the first time didn’t work,” said Ben Sommers, a Harvard professor and a former health official in the Biden and Obama administrations. “It should be a signal to federal policymakers: Don’t point to Georgia and Arkansas and say, ‘Let’s do that.’”

More than a dozen states had Medicaid work requirement programs approved during Trump’s first administration.

After an expensive and bumpy rollout, Georgia in January posted a draft renewal plan for its Georgia Pathways to Coverage program. The plan removes the requirement to document work every month and to pay premiums. Those key elements — which supporters have argued promote employment and personal responsibility — were never implemented, the state said.

Enrollees would still have to meet the work requirement when they first apply and when they renew each year. The draft plan also expands the group of people who can opt out of work reporting to include parents of children under age 6. A public comment period on the plan is open through Feb. 20.

Arkansas’ latest request to federal officials doesn’t require enrollees to report their work hours. Instead, it proposes checking whether people are working, caregiving, or fulfilling other qualifying activities by using data, which could include income, job history, educational status, whether a child lives at home, and other criteria, said Gavin Lesnick, a spokesperson for the state’s Medicaid agency.

People deemed “not on track towards meeting their personal health and economic goals” won’t be disenrolled but can participate in a “success coaching” program to maintain coverage, according to the state’s proposal. A public comment period on Arkansas’ program runs through March 3.

‘Fundamentally Flawed’

More than 90% of U.S. adults eligible for Medicaid expansion are already working or could be exempt from requirements, according to KFF. Still, several states are quickly moving to restart Medicaid work requirements.

Besides the three states of Arkansas, Ohio, and South Carolina, Iowa and South Dakota are considering similar proposals. Lawmakers in Montana are weighing them as they debate renewing the state’s Medicaid expansion.

This week, House Republicans floated a budget proposal to cut $880 billion from the Energy and Commerce Committee, which oversees Medicaid, the state-federal health insurance program for people with low incomes or disabilities. Before the release of that plan, Speaker Mike Johnson said Republicans were discussing changes to Medicaid that include imposing work requirements.

Supporters of such requirements say Medicaid should be reserved for people who are working.

Right now, it “disincentivizes many low-income families from earning additional income” because they would lose health coverage if they make too much money, said South Carolina Gov. McMaster in his January letter to federal officials. He has argued that a work-reporting requirement is “fiscally responsible” and “will incentivize employment.”

There is no evidence showing such programs improve economic outcomes for people; the requirements don’t help people find jobs, but not having health insurance can keep them from working, health policy researchers say.

The goal of Ohio’s plan is to focus “resources and efforts on those who are engaged with their health choices and independence,” said the state. The plan doesn’t require most individuals to regularly “report activities, fill out forms, or take any action” beyond what is generally required for Medicaid enrollment. Ohio estimates that more than 61,000 people, or 8% of enrollees subject to its measure, would lose Medicaid eligibility in the first year.

Consumer advocates, health policy analysts, and researchers said the scaling back seen in recent work requirement proposals speaks to the challenges of mandating them for public benefits — and could serve as a cautionary tale for Republicans in Washington, D.C., and across the country. The programs can eliminate people from the Medicaid rolls or suppress enrollment, while adding costly layers of bureaucracy, they said.

“As a matter of health policy, work-reporting requirements in Medicaid are fundamentally flawed,” said Leo Cuello, a researcher at the Georgetown Center for Children and Families.

Lessons Learned?

Arkansas got its initial program off the ground in 2018 before a federal judge said it was illegal. Unlike Georgia, the state had already expanded Medicaid. That work-reporting requirement led to more than 18,000 people losing coverage, in part because enrollees were unaware or confused about how to report they were working.

In his ruling that ended the program, Judge James Boasberg said its approval was “arbitrary and capricious” because it failed to address a core goal of Medicaid: “the provision of medical coverage to the needy.”

Arkansas’ latest proposal tries to address a potential legal challenge by suspending, rather than terminating, health coverage through the end of the calendar year for people who don’t meet requirements.

“We have worked to design this amendment taking into account lessons learned from previous work requirements,” said Arkansas Medicaid Director Janet Mann at a press conference in late January announcing the new proposal.

But the requirements are “subjective,” and the difference between suspension and termination isn’t meaningful, said Camille Richoux, health policy director of Arkansas Advocates for Children and Families.

“The impact is the same: You can’t go to the doctor,” she said. “You can’t get your prescriptions filled.”

In Georgia, the Pathways program, launched in 2023, has offered coverage to a small portion of those who would qualify for Medicaid if the state had fully expanded it to all low-income adults, as 40 others have done. With the proposed changes, the state estimates enrollment in Pathways would grow to as many as 30,000 people in the final year of the pilot. The state currently estimates at least 246,000 would become eligible for Medicaid under a full expansion.

About 6,500 people were enrolled in Pathways as of late January, said Grant Thomas, the state’s deputy Medicaid commissioner, in a legislative hearing. According to state officials, the program has cost more than $57 million in state and federal funds through December, with most of that money going toward program administration, not benefits.

“Pathways is doing what it is designed to do: increase access to affordable health care coverage while lowering the uninsured rate across Georgia,” said Russel Carlson, the state’s Medicaid director. The changes to Pathways are an attempt to “improve the member experience” while finding ways “to make government more efficient and accessible,” he added.

Pathways requires that enrollees regularly submit documentation to prove they are working, but the program doesn’t include meaningful measures to help people find work, critics said. People who could be eligible for Pathways have said the whole process is time-consuming due to lengthy questionnaires, a glitchy system for uploading documents, and confusing technical language on the website, according to those working with potential enrollees.

“There’s stuff that sounds good on paper, but when you go to implement it in real life, it’s costly and burdensome,” said Leah Chan, director of health justice at the Georgia Budget and Policy Institute.

So far, Pathways has cost state and federal taxpayers nearly $9,000 per enrollee, largely back-end costs to run the program. States that have expanded Medicaid spent about $6,500 per enrollee in that group in 2021, according to KFF researchers.

Georgia GOP Gov. Brian Kemp has said he’s committed to his signature health program, but some Republican state lawmakers have shown an openness to consider full expansion.

A group of Democratic senators cited KFF Health News’ reporting last year when they asked the federal government’s top watchdog to investigate Pathways spending.

Even with the proposed changes, some people, including those who work in the informal or gig economy, may not have official records and may be locked out of health coverage, said Laura Colbert, executive director of Georgians for a Healthy Future, a nonprofit consumer health advocacy organization. People caring for older children or aging relatives, older adults who struggle to find work, and those with medical conditions that prevent them from working still wouldn’t qualify for health coverage, she said.

“The Pathways program just doesn’t reflect the reality of how people are working,” Colbert said. “Pathways is a program that has clearly been developed by people who have had salaried jobs with predictable incomes.”

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).



from Health Industry Archives - KFF Health News

Related Posts: