As Holdout Missouri Joins Nation in Monitoring Opioid Prescriptions, Experts Worry

Missouri is the last state to create a monitoring program to help spot the misuse of prescription drugs. But some public health experts warn that the nation’s programs are forcing people addicted to opioids to seek deadlier street options.

Kathi Arbini said she felt elated when Missouri finally caught up to the other 49 states and approved a statewide prescription drug monitoring program this June in an attempt to curb opioid addiction.

The hairstylist turned activist estimated she made 75 two-hour trips in the past decade from her home in Fenton, a St. Louis suburb, to the state capital, Jefferson City, to convince Republican lawmakers that monitoring how doctors and pharmacists prescribe and dispense controlled substances could help save people like her son, Kevin Mullane.

He was a poet and skateboarder who she said turned to drugs after she and his dad divorced. He started “doctor-shopping” at about age 17 and was able to obtain multiple prescriptions for the pain medication OxyContin. He died in 2009 at 21 from a heroin overdose.

If the state had had a monitoring program, doctors might have detected Mullane’s addiction and, Arbini thinks, her son might still be alive. She said it’s been embarrassing that it’s taken Missouri so long to agree to add one.

“As a parent, you would stand in front of a train; you would protect your child forever — and if this helps, it helps,” said Arbini, 61. “It can’t kill more people, I don’t think.”

But even though Missouri was the lone outlier, it had not been among the states with the highest opioid overdose death rates. Missouri had an average annual rank of 16th among states from 2010 through 2019, as the country descended into an opioid epidemic, according to a KHN analysis of Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data compiled by KFF.

Some in public health now argue that when providers use such monitoring programs to cut off prescription opiate misuse, people who have an addiction instead turn to heroin and fentanyl. That means Missouri’s new toll could cause more people to overdose and leave the state with buyer’s remorse.

“If we can take any benefit from being last in the country to do this, my hope would be that we have had ample opportunity to learn from others’ mistakes and not repeat them,” said Rachel Winograd, a psychologist who leads NoMODeaths, a state program aimed at reducing harm from opioid misuse.

Before Missouri’s monitoring program was approved, lawmakers and health and law enforcement officials warned that the absence made it easier for Missouri patients to doctor-shop to obtain a particular drug, or for providers to overprescribe opiates in what are known as pill mills.

State Sen. Holly Rehder, a Republican with family members who have struggled with opioid addiction, spent almost a decade pushing legislation to establish a monitoring program but ran into opposition from state Sen. Rob Schaaf, a family physician and fellow Republican who expressed concerns about patient privacy and fears about hacking.

In 2017, Schaaf agreed to stop filibustering the legislation and support it if it required that doctors check the database for other prescriptions before writing new ones for a patient. That, though, sparked fresh opposition from the Missouri State Medical Association, concerned the requirement could expose physicians to malpractice lawsuits if patients overdosed.

The new law does not include such a requirement for prescribers. Pharmacists who dispense controlled substances will be required to enter prescriptions into the database.

Dr. Silvia Martins, an epidemiologist at Columbia University who has studied monitoring programs, said it’s important to mandate that prescribers review a patient’s information in the database. “We know that the ones that are most effective are the ones where they check it regularly, on a weekly basis, not just on a monthly basis,” she said.

But Stephen Wood, a nurse practitioner and visiting substance abuse bioethics researcher at Harvard Law School, said the tool is often punitive because it cuts off access to opioids without offering viable treatment options.

He and his colleagues in the intensive care unit at Carney Hospital in Boston don’t use the Massachusetts monitoring program nearly as often as they once did. Instead, he said, they rely on toxicology screens, signs such as injection marks or the patients themselves, who often admit they are addicted.

“Rather than pulling out a piece of paper and being accusatory, I find it’s much better to present myself as a caring provider and sit down and have an honest discussion,” Wood said.

When Kentucky in 2012 became the first state to require prescribers and dispensers to use the system, the number of opioid prescriptions and overdoses from prescription opioids initially decreased slightly, according to a state study.

But the number of opioid overdose deaths — with the exception of a slight dip in 2018 and 2019 — has since consistently ticked upward, according to a KFF analysis of CDC data. In 2020, Kentucky was estimated to have had the nation’s second-largest increase in drug overdose deaths.

When efforts to establish Missouri’s statewide monitoring program stalled, St. Louis County established one in 2017 that 75 local jurisdictions agreed to participate in, covering 85% of the state, according to the county health department. The county now plans to move its program into the state one, which is scheduled to launch in 2023.

Dr. Faisal Khan, director of the county department, said he has no doubt that the St. Louis program has “saved lives across the state.” Opioid prescriptions decreased dramatically once the county established the monitoring program. In 2016, Missouri averaged 80.4 opioid prescriptions per 100 people; in 2019, it was down to 58.3 prescriptions, according to the CDC.

The overall drug overdose death rate in Missouri has steadily increased since 2016, though, with the CDC reporting an initial count of 1,921 people dying from overdoses of all kinds of drugs in 2020.

Khan acknowledged that a monitoring program can lead to an increase in overdose deaths in the years immediately following its establishment because people addicted to prescription opioids suddenly can’t obtain them and instead buy street drugs that are more potent and contain impurities.

But he said a monitoring program can also help a physician intervene before someone becomes addicted. Doctors who flag a patient using the monitoring program must then also be able to easily refer them to treatment, Khan and others said.

“We absolutely are not prepared for that in Missouri,” said Winograd, of NoMODeaths. “Substance use treatment providers will frequently tell you that they are at max capacity.”

Uninsured people in rural areas may have to wait five weeks for inpatient or outpatient treatment at state-funded centers, according to PreventEd, a St. Louis-based nonprofit that aims to reduce harm from alcohol and drug use.

For example, the waiting list for residential treatment at the Preferred Family Healthcare clinic in Trenton is typically two weeks during the summer and one month in winter, according to Melanie Tipton, who directs clinical services at the center, which mostly serves uninsured clients in rural northern Missouri.

Tipton, who has worked at the clinic for 17 years, said that before the covid-19 pandemic, people struggling with opioid addiction mainly used prescription pills; now it’s mostly heroin and fentanyl, because they are cheaper. Fentanyl is a synthetic opioid that is 50 to 100 times more potent than morphine, according to the National Institute on Drug Abuse.

Still, Tipton said her clients continue to find providers who overprescribe opiates, so she thinks a statewide monitoring program could help.

Inez Davis, diversion program manager for the Drug Enforcement Administration’s St. Louis division, also said in an email that the program will benefit Missouri and neighboring states because “doctor shoppers and those who commit prescription fraud now have one less avenue.”

Winograd said it’s possible that if the state had more opioid prescription pill mills, it would have a lower overdose death rate. “I don’t think that’s the answer,” she said. “We need to move in the direction of decriminalization and a regulated drug supply.” Specifically, she’d rather Missouri decriminalize possession of small amounts of hard drugs, even heroin, and institute regulations to ensure the drugs are safe.

State Rep. Justin Hill, a Republican from St. Charles and former narcotics detective, opposed the monitoring program legislation because of his concerns over patient privacy and evidence that the lack of a program has not made Missouri’s opioid problem any worse than many other states’. He also worries the monitoring program will lead to an increase in overdose deaths.

“I would love the people that passed this bill to stand by the numbers,” Hill said. “And if we see more deaths from overdose, scrap the monitoring program and go back to the drawing board.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

KHN’s ‘What the Health?’: Delta Changes the Covid Conversation

With covid cases on the upswing again around the country, partisan division remains over how to address the pandemic. Meanwhile, the Biden administration proposes bigger penalties for hospitals that fail to make their prices public as required. Stephanie Armour of The Wall Street Journal, Alice Miranda Ollstein of Politico and Tami Luhby of CNN join KHN’s Julie Rovner to discuss these issues and more. Also, for “extra credit,” the panelists suggest their favorite stories of the week they think you should read, too.

Can’t see the audio player? Click here to listen on SoundCloud. You can also listen on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Pocket Casts or wherever you listen to podcasts.

The resurgence of covid cases in the U.S. — largely attributable to the much more contagious delta variant — has given policymakers the jitters. The Biden administration is redoubling efforts to get people vaccinated, and even some Republicans who had been silent or skeptical of the vaccines are encouraging the unvaccinated to change their status.

Meanwhile, it’s not just covid that’s shortening U.S. life expectancy. Nearly 100,000 people died of drug overdoses in 2020, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. This week a multibillion-dollar settlement among states, drugmakers and distributors could funnel funding to fight the opioid scourge.

This week’s panelists are Julie Rovner of KHN, Stephanie Armour of The Wall Street Journal, Alice Miranda Ollstein of Politico and Tami Luhby of CNN.

Among the takeaways from this week’s episode:

  • If lawmakers fail to craft a bipartisan deal on Capitol Hill on traditional infrastructure spending, Democrats’ plans for a second bill that incorporates significant health care programs may need to be scaled back. That’s because the Democrats have pledged to fund major improvements in infrastructure and they would need to add that to the second bill, which is being moved through a special procedure that keeps it from being stalled in the Senate by a Republican filibuster. Some Democrats are nervous about making that second bill too broad.
  • The momentum toward vaccinating the public has stalled abruptly in the past month or so, and reports of rising cases is causing concern among conservatives. Some high-profile Republicans — including Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, Rep. Steve Scalise (La.) and Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis — have been out during the past week touting the vaccines’ successes.
  • The agreement reached this week between state officials and companies that made or distributed opioids will send billions of dollars to the states to fund prevention and treatment programs for people with addiction problems. Some advocates worry, however, that the funding — much like the landmark tobacco settlement of past years — will instead be absorbed by cash-strapped states for other uses.
  • The Biden administration proposed significantly increasing the fines for hospitals that do not make their prices easily seen online and understood for patients. Despite the widespread eagerness to establish transparency, there is little indication consumers are using such tools.

Plus, for extra credit, the panelists recommend their favorite health policy stories of the week they think you should read, too:

Julie Rovner: NPR’s “The Life Cycle of a COVID-19 Vaccine Lie,” by Geoff Brumfiel

Stephanie Armour: The Washington Post’s “Biden Administration, Workers Grapple With Health Threats Posed by Climate Change and Heat,” by Eli Rosenberg and Abha Bhattarai

Tami Luhby: The Los Angeles Times’ “Same Hospitals but Worse Outcomes for Black Patients Than White Ones,” by Emily Alpert Reyes

Alice Miranda Ollstein: The 19th’s “Courts Block Laws Targeting Transgender Children in Arkansas and West Virginia,” by Orion Rummler

To hear all our podcasts, click here.

And subscribe to KHN’s What the Health? on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Pocket Casts or wherever you listen to podcasts.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

How ERs Fail Patients With Addiction: One Patient’s Tragic Death

Two intractable failings of the U.S. health care system — addiction treatment and medical costs — come to a head in the ER, where patients desperate for addiction treatment arrive, only to find the facility may not be equipped to deal with substance use or, if they are, treatment is prohibitively expensive.

Jameson Rybak tried to quit using opioids nearly a dozen times within five years. Each time, he’d wait out the vomiting, sweating and chills from withdrawal in his bedroom.

It was difficult to watch, said his mother, Suzanne Rybak, but she admired his persistence.

On March 11, 2020, though, Suzanne grew worried. Jameson, 30 at the time, was slipping in and out of consciousness and saying he couldn’t move his hands.

By 11 p.m., she decided to take him to the emergency room at McLeod Regional Medical Center in Florence, South Carolina. The staff there gave Jameson fluids through an IV to rehydrate, medication to decrease his nausea and potassium supplements to stop his muscle spasms, according to Suzanne and a letter the hospital’s administrator later sent her.

But when they recommended admitting him to monitor and manage the withdrawal symptoms, Jameson said no. He’d lost his job the previous month and, with it, his health insurance.

“He kept saying, ‘I can’t afford this,’” Suzanne recalled, and “not one person [at the hospital] indicated that my son would have had some financial options.”

Suzanne doesn’t remember any mention of the hospital’s financial assistance policy or payment plans, she said. Nor does she remember any discussions of providing Jameson medication to treat opioid use disorder or connecting him to addiction-specialty providers, she said.

“No referrals, no phone numbers, no follow-up information,” she later wrote in a complaint letter to the hospital.

Instead, ER staff provided a form saying Jameson was leaving against medical advice. He signed and Suzanne witnessed.

Three months later, Jameson Rybak died of an overdose in his childhood bedroom.

Missed Opportunities

That March night in the emergency room, Jameson Rybak had fallen victim to two huge gaps in the U.S. health care system: a paucity of addiction treatment and high medical costs. The two issues — distinct but often intertwined — can come to a head in the ER, where patients and families desperate for addiction treatment often arrive, only to find the facility may not be equipped to deal with substance use. Or, even if they are, the treatment is prohibitively expensive.

Academic and medical experts say patients like Jameson represent a series of missed opportunities — both medical and financial.

“The emergency department is like a door, a really important door patients are walking through for identification of those who might need help,” said Marla Oros, a registered nurse and president of the Mosaic Group, a Maryland-based consulting firm that has worked with more than 50 hospitals nationwide to increase addiction treatment services. “We’re losing so many patients that could be identified and helped,” she said, speaking generally.

A spokesperson for McLeod Regional Medical Center, where Jameson went for care, said they would not comment on an individual’s case and declined to answer a detailed list of questions about the hospital’s ER and financial assistance policies. But in a statement, the hospital’s parent company, McLeod Health, noted that the hospital adhered to federal laws requiring that hospital ERs provide “immediate stabilizing care” for all patients, regardless of their ability to pay.

“Our hospitals attempt to manage the acute symptoms, but we do not treat chronic, underlying addiction,” the statement added.

Suzanne said her son needed more than stabilization. He needed immediate help breaking the cycle of addiction.

Jameson had been in and out of treatment for five years, ever since a friend suggested he try opioids to manage his anxiety and insomnia. He had insurance through his jobs in the hotel industry and later as an electrical technician, Suzanne said. But the high-deductible plans often left him paying out-of-pocket: $3,000 for a seven-day rehab stay, $400 for a brief counseling session and a prescription of Suboxone, a medication to treat opioid use disorder.

After he lost his job in February 2020, Jameson tried again to detox at home, Suzanne said. That’s what led to the ER trip.

Treating Addiction in the ER

Hospital ERs across the nation have become ground zero for patients struggling with addiction.

A seminal study published in 2015 by researchers at Yale School of Medicine found that giving patients medication to treat opioid use disorder in the ER doubled their chances of being in treatment a month later, compared with those who were given only referrals to addiction treatment.

Yet providing that medication is still not standard practice. A 2017 survey found just 5% of emergency medicine physicians said their department provided medications for opioid use disorder. Instead, many ERs continue to discharge these patients, often with a list of phone numbers for addiction clinics.

Jameson didn’t even get that, Suzanne said. At McLeod Regional, he was not seen by a psychiatrist or addiction specialist and did not get a prescription for Suboxone or even a referral, she said.

After Jameson’s death, Suzanne wrote to the hospital: “Can you explain to me, especially with the drug crisis in this country, how the ER was not equipped with personnel and/or any follow-up for treatment?”

Hospital administrator Will McLeod responded to Suzanne, in a letter she shared with KHN, that per Jameson’s medical record he’d been evaluated appropriately and that his withdrawal symptoms had been treated. Jameson declined to be admitted to the hospital, the letter said, and could not be involuntarily committed, as he “was not an imminent danger to himself or others.”

“Had he been admitted to our hospital that day, he would have been assigned to social workers and case managers who could have assisted with referrals, support, and follow-up treatment,” McLeod wrote.

Nationwide, hospitals are working to ramp up the availability of addiction services in the ER. In South Carolina, a state-funded program through the Medical University of South Carolina and the consulting firm Mosaic Group aims to help hospitals create a standardized system to screen patients for addiction, employ individuals who are in recovery to work with those patients and offer medication for opioid use disorder in the ER.

The initiative had worked with seven ERs as of June. It was in discussions to work with McLeod Regional hospital too, program staffers said. However, the hospital backed out.

The hospital declined to comment on its decision.

ER staffs around the country often lack the personnel to launch initiatives or learn about initiating addiction treatment. Sometimes affordable referral options are limited in the area. Even when the initial prescribing does occur, cost can be a problem, since Suboxone and its generic equivalent range in price from $50 to over $500 per prescription, without insurance.

In South Carolina, which has not expanded Medicaid, nearly 11% of the population is uninsured. Among patients in the state’s program who have been started on medications for opioid use disorder in ERs, about 75% are uninsured, said Dr. Lindsey Jennings, an emergency medicine physician at MUSC who works on the statewide initiative.

Other parts of the country face similar concerns, said Dr. Alister Martin, an emergency medicine physician who heads a national campaign to encourage the use of these medications in the ER. In Texas, for example, hundreds of doctors have gotten certified to provide the medications, he said, but many patients are uninsured and can’t pay for their prescriptions.

“You can’t make it effective if people can’t afford it,” Martin said.

Too Late for Charity Care

Throughout the night at McLeod Regional hospital’s ER, Jameson worried about cost, Suzanne said.

She wanted to help, but Jameson’s father and younger brother had recently lost their jobs, and the household was running on her salary as a public school librarian.

Suzanne didn’t know that nonprofit hospitals, like McLeod, are required by the federal government to have financial assistance policies, which lower or eliminate bills for people without the resources to pay. Often called charity care, this assistance is a condition for nonprofit hospitals to maintain their tax-exempt status.

But “nonprofits are actually doing less charity care than for-profits,” said Ge Bai, an associate professor at Johns Hopkins University who published a study this year on the level of charity care provided by different hospitals.

That’s in part because they have wide leeway to determine who qualifies and often don’t tell patients they may be eligible, despite federal requirements that nonprofit hospitals “widely publicize” their financial assistance policies, including on billing statements and in “conspicuous public displays” in the hospital. One study found that only 50% of hospitals regularly notified patients about eligibility for charity care before initiating debt collection.

McLeod Regional’s most recent publicly available tax return states that “uninsured patients are screened at the time of registration” and if they’re unable to pay and ineligible for governmental insurance, they’re given an application.

Suzanne said she doesn’t remember Jameson or herself receiving an application. The hospital declined to comment on the Rybaks’ case and whether it provides “conspicuous public displays” of financial assistance.

“Not once did anybody tell us, ‘Let’s get a financial person down here,’ or ‘There are grant programs,’” Suzanne said.

Mark Rukavina, with the nonprofit health advocacy group Community Catalyst, said most hospitals comply with the letter of the law in publicizing their assistance policy. But “how effective some of that messaging is may be a question,” he said. Some hospitals may bury the policy in a dense packet of other information or use signs with vague language.

A KHN investigation in 2019 found that, nationwide, 45% of nonprofit hospital organizations were routinely sending medical bills to patients whose incomes were low enough to qualify for charity care. McLeod Regional hospital reported $1.77 million of debt from sending bills to such patients, which ended up going unpaid, for the fiscal year ending in 2019.

Believing they couldn’t afford in-patient admission, the Rybaks left the hospital that night.

After the ER

Afterward, Jameson’s withdrawal symptoms passed, Suzanne said. He spent time golfing with his younger brother. Although his application for unemployment benefits was denied, he managed to defer payments on his car and school loans, she said.

But, inside, he must have been struggling, Suzanne now realizes.

Throughout the pandemic, many people with substance use disorder reported feeling isolated and relapsing. Overdose deaths rose nationwide.

On the morning of June 9, 2020, Suzanne opened the door to Jameson’s room and found him on the floor. The coroner determined he had died of an overdose. The family later scattered his ashes on Myrtle Beach — Jameson’s favorite place, Suzanne said.

In the months following Jameson’s death, hospital bills for his night in the ER arrived at the house. He owed $4,928, they said. Suzanne wrote to the hospital that her son was dead but received yet another bill addressed to him after that.

She shredded it and mailed the pieces to the hospital, along with a copy of Jameson’s death certificate.

Twelve days later, the health system wrote to her that the bill had been resolved under its charity care program.

Bill of the Month is a crowdsourced investigation by KHN and NPR that dissects and explains medical bills. Do you have an interesting medical bill you want to share with us? Tell us about it!

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

KHN’s ‘What the Health?’: 100 Days of Health Policy

It’s 100 days into Joe Biden’s presidency and a surprisingly large number of health policies have been announced. But health is notably absent from the administration’s $1.8 trillion spending plan for American families, making it unclear how much more will get done this year. Meanwhile, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention loosens its mask-wearing recommendations for those who have been vaccinated, but the new rules are confusing. Joanne Kenen of Politico, Mary Ellen McIntire of CQ Roll Call and Sarah Karlin-Smith of the Pink Sheet join KHN’s Julie Rovner to discuss these issues and more. Plus, Rovner interviews KHN’s Julie Appleby, who reported the latest KHN-NPR “Bill of the Month” episode.

Can’t see the audio player? Click here to listen on SoundCloud.

It’s been a busy 100 days for the Biden administration on health policy. The promise Joe Biden made as president-elect to get 100 million covid vaccinations in arms was doubled, healthcare.gov reopened to those without insurance, and steps were taken to undo a raft of health policies implemented by President Donald Trump. The covid relief bill passed by Congress in March also boosted subsidies for those who buy their own coverage and provided incentives for the 12 states that have yet to expand their Medicaid programs under the ACA.

But those actions may prove the high point for health policy this year. Administration officials initially promised that health would be a major part of the president’s $1.8 trillion American Families Plan, but major changes, particularly those addressing prescription drug costs, were nowhere to be seen when the plan was unveiled Wednesday.

This week’s panelists are Julie Rovner of KHN, Joanne Kenen of Politico, Mary Ellen McIntire of CQ Roll Call and Sarah Karlin-Smith of the Pink Sheet

Here are some takeaways from this week’s podcast:

  • Among the Trump administration health policies the Biden administration has moved to reverse are those on women’s reproductive health and Medicaid work requirements. Some experts suggest that Democratic officials pushed forward on this with good speed because the past administration’s health policies were easier to disentangle than its rules on environment, where Biden also wants to make changes.
  • Democratic lawmakers had seemed eager to use Biden’s family plan to expand Medicare or drive down prescription drug prices. It likely signals that while health care is a key issue for Democrats on Capitol Hill, it is not as big a priority in the White House. Biden, who did mention those policies favored by progressive lawmakers in his speech to Congress on Wednesday, seems to be putting his emphasis on strengthening the Affordable Care Act.
  • Right now, the pharmaceutical industry is scoring high with voters and politicians because of the successes of the covid vaccines. So, getting Senate approval of a bill to allow Medicare to negotiate drug prices is likely to be difficult. Those odds get even tougher without pressure from the White House.
  • Biden may also have shied away from the drug pricing initiative in his formal plan for helping families because he was concerned that it could divide the Democratic caucus and imperil the overall initiative.
  • The administration is gearing up to provide India with help to fight the pandemic. Public health officials point out that although the vaccination effort in the U.S. is going well, it is imperative to tamp down the virus in other countries so variants that could evade the vaccines don’t develop. However, there is already a debate about how much U.S. vaccine to ship abroad before authorities determine how to vaccinate children here.
  • Federal health officials have lifted the pause on using the Johnson & Johnson covid vaccine, but that decision has been controversial and some scientists question whether there was enough study or it was the right move.
  • The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention loosened its mask-wearing recommendations for people who have been vaccinated, but the new rules are confusing and even sparked some jokes among late-night TV comedians.
  • As the vaccination efforts in the U.S. gain steam, interest is growing among people with long-term cases of covid-19. A hearing on Capitol Hill this week looked at some of the issues, such as what sorts of disabilities these patients face and what workplace accommodations are necessary.
  • The National Institutes of Health is beginning major studies of “long covid” and its myriad symptoms. Although health officials do not yet have a clear definition of long covid, they are generally not dismissing patients’ complaints about the disorder. That differs from some mysterious ailments in the past.
  • The Biden administration has loosened the rules governing who can prescribe the drug buprenorphine, a controversial but effective treatment for opioid addiction. The policy eliminates a training requirement and seeks to allow medical professionals other than doctors to prescribe the drug. But hurdles to its use remain, leading some to question how much more widely the drug will be used as a result of the new policy.

Also this week, Rovner interviews KHN’s Julie Appleby, who reported the latest KHN-NPR “Bill of the Month” feature — about the intersection between car insurance and health insurance. If you have an outrageous medical bill you’d like to share with us, you can do it here.

Plus, for extra credit, the panelists recommend their favorite health policy stories of the week they think you should read too:

Julie Rovner: This American Life’s “The Herd,” by Ira Glass, Anna Maria Barry-Jester and David Kestenbaum. Also, KHN’s “We’re Coming for You’: For Public Health Officials, a Year of Threats and Menace,” by Anna Maria Barry-Jester.

Joanne Kenen: The New Yorker’s “How Vaccine Hesitancy Is Driving Breakthrough Infections in Nursing Homes,” by Masha Gessen.

Mary Ellen McIntire: CQ Roll Call’s “FEMA’s Tasks Pit COVID-19 Vaccinations Against Hurricane Prep,” by Emily Kopp.

Sarah Karlin-Smith: The Pink Sheet’s “Conflicts Galore: Upcoming Accelerated Approval Cancer Panel Includes Many Industry Relationships,” by Sarah Karlin-Smith.

To hear all our podcasts, click here.

And subscribe to What the Health? on iTunesStitcherGoogle PlaySpotify, or Pocket Casts.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

KHN’s ‘What the Health?’: Open Enrollment, One More Time

Keeping a campaign promise, President Joe Biden has reopened enrollment for health coverage under the Affordable Care Act on healthcare.gov — and states that run their own health insurance marketplaces followed suit. At the same time, the Biden administration is moving to revoke the Trump administration’s permission for states to impose work requirements for some adults on the Medicaid health insurance program. Alice Miranda Ollstein of Politico, Kimberly Leonard of Business Insider and Rachel Cohrs of Stat join KHN’s Julie Rovner to discuss these issues and more. Also, Rovner interviews medical student Inam Sakinah, president of the new group Future Doctors in Politics.

Can’t see the audio player? Click here to listen on SoundCloud.

An estimated 9 million Americans eligible for free or reduced premium health insurance under the Affordable Care Act have a second chance to sign up for 2021 coverage, since the Biden administration reopened enrollment on healthcare.gov and states that run their own marketplaces followed suit.

Meanwhile, Biden officials took the first steps to revoke the permission that states got from the Trump administration to require many adults on Medicaid to work or perform community service in exchange for their health coverage. The Supreme Court is scheduled to hear a case on the work requirements at the end of March.

This week’s panelists are Julie Rovner of Kaiser Health News, Alice Miranda Ollstein of Politico, Kimberly Leonard of Business Insider and Rachel Cohrs of Stat.

Among the takeaways from this week’s podcast:

  • The Biden administration said it will promote the special enrollment period, a stark change from the Trump administration, which dramatically limited funding for outreach. But navigator groups, whose workers help individuals find and sign up for coverage, say they haven’t yet heard whether the federal government will be offering to pay them to help people during this three-month sign-up period.
  • The House appears poised to pass a bill next week that would fund the covid relief measures President Joe Biden is seeking, as well as major changes to the ACA. Senate staffers are working with the House to align legislation from both chambers as much as possible. With little or no Republican support and only razor-thin majorities in both the House and Senate, Democrats will need to find common ground among their caucus to push the bill through.
  • Congress has a firm deadline on the covid relief bill since many current programs, such as the expanded unemployment funding, expire March 14.
  • CVS announced this week that its insurance subsidiary, Aetna, will be participating in the ACA marketplaces in the fall, another sign that those exchanges are growing in acceptance.
  • The Biden administration’s effort to walk back Medicaid work requirements appears to be an effort to head off the arguments at the Supreme Court. Democrats fear that even if they stop the program through administrative action now, a high-court ruling saying the effort was legal could open the door for future Republican administrations to restore work requirements.
  • The federal government is pushing hard to get more covid vaccine shots in arms around the country and last week reported that 1.7 million doses had been distributed. But it is a race against the emerging threat of covid virus variants, which are even more contagious than the original coronavirus.
  • Among hurdles in the vaccination effort is hesitancy among certain groups to get the shot. There have been reports that 30% of military personnel refused to accept the vaccine and some high-profile athletes in the NBA don’t want to be in public service announcements promoting it. Groups opposed to vaccines in general are posting misinformation online that may also be a source of concern.
  • The latest controversy over New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo’s policies on counting deaths among nursing home residents with covid-19 has consumed Albany and led to inquiries by legal authorities. It also raises questions about whether politics — Cuomo, a Democrat, and President Donald Trump regularly sparred about covid policies — influenced public health decisions.

Also this week, Rovner interviews medical student Inam Sakinah, president of the new group Future Doctors in Politics.

Plus, for extra credit, the panelists recommend their favorite health policy stories of the week they think you should read, too:

Julie Rovner: Stat’s “Hospitals’ Covid-19 Heroics Have Them Poised for Power in the New Washington,” by Rachel Cohrs

Rachel Cohrs: KHN’s “As Drug Prices Keep Rising, State Lawmakers Propose Tough New Bills to Curb Them,” by Harris Meyer; and Stat’s “States Still Can’t Import Drugs From Canada. Now, Many Are Seeking to Import Canadian Prices,” by Lev Facher

Alice Miranda Ollstein: Politico’s “How Covid-19 Could Make Americans Healthier,” by Joanne Kenen

Kimberly Leonard: The New Republic’s “The Darker Story Just Outside the Lens of Framing Britney Spears,” by Sara Luterman

To hear all our podcasts, click here.

And subscribe to What the Health? on iTunesStitcherGoogle PlaySpotify, or Pocket Casts.

Kaiser Health News (KHN) is a national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

Pandemic Presents New Hurdles, And Hope, For People Struggling With Addiction

Relaxed regulations in response to the pandemic means more access to addiction treatment medications. But recovery programs are accepting fewer people, and the danger of overdose remains high.

Before Philadelphia shut down to slow the spread of the coronavirus, Ed had a routine: most mornings he would head to a nearby McDonald’s to brush his teeth, wash his face and — when he had the money — buy a cup of coffee. He would bounce between homeless shelters and try to get a shower. But since businesses closed and many shelters stopped taking new admissions, Ed has been mostly shut off from that routine.

He’s still living on the streets.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t really sleep too much,” said Ed, who’s 51 and struggling with addiction. “Every four or five days I get a couple hours.”

KHN agreed not to use his last name because he uses illegal drugs.

Philadelphia has the highest overdose rate of any big city in America — in 2019, more than three people a day died of drug overdoses there, on average. Before the coronavirus began spreading across the United States, the opioid overdose epidemic was the biggest health crisis on the minds of many city officials and public health experts. The coronavirus pandemic has largely eclipsed the conversation around the opioid crisis. But the crisis still rages on despite business closures, the cancellation of in-person treatment appointments and the strain on many addiction resources in the city.

When his usual shelter wasn’t an option anymore, Ed tried to get into residential drug treatment. He figured that would be a good way to try to get back on his feet and, if nothing else, get a few good nights of rest. But he had contracted pinkeye, a symptom thought to be associated with the virus that leads to COVID-19, so the evaluation center didn’t want to place him in an inpatient facility until he’d gotten the pinkeye checked out. But he couldn’t see a doctor because he didn’t have a phone for a telehealth appointment.

“I got myself stuck, and I’m trying to pull everything back together before it totally blows up,” he said.

Rosalind Pichardo wants to help people in Ed’s situation. Before the pandemic, Pichardo would hit the streets of her neighborhood, Kensington, which has the highest drug overdose rate in Philadelphia. She’d head out with a bag full of snack bars, cookies and Narcan, the opioid overdose reversal drug.

She’d hand Narcan out to people using drugs, and people selling drugs — anyone who wanted it. Pichardo started her own organization, Operation Save Our City, which initially set out to work with survivors of gun violence in the neighborhood. When she realized that overdoses were killing people too, she began getting more involved with the harm reduction movement and started handing out Narcan through the city’s syringe exchange.

When Pennsylvania’s stay-at-home order went into effect, Pichardo and others worried that more people might start using drugs alone, and that fewer first responders would be patrolling the streets or nearby and able to revive them if they overdosed.

So, Pichardo and other harm reduction activists gave out even more Narcan. A representative for Prevention Point Philadelphia, the group that operates a large syringe exchange program in the city, said that during the first month of the city’s stay-at-home order, they handed out almost twice as much Narcan as usual.

After the lockdowns and social distancing began, Pichardo worried that more people would be using drugs alone, leading to more overdoses. But Philadelphia’s fatal overdose rate during the pandemic remains about the same as it was this time last year. Pichardo said she thinks that’s evidence that flooding the streets with Narcan is working — that people are continuing to use drugs, and maybe even using more drugs, but that users are utilizing Narcan more often and administering it to one another.

That is the hope. But Pichardo said users don’t always have a buddy to keep watch, and during the pandemic first responders have seemed much more hesitant to intervene. For example, she recently administered Narcan to three people in Kensington who overdosed near a subway station, while two police officers stood by and watched. Before the pandemic, they would often be right there with her, helping.

To reverse the overdoses, Pichardo crouched over the people who she said had started turning blue as their oxygen levels dropped. She injected the Narcan into their noses, using a disposable plastic applicator. Normally, she would perform rescue breathing, too, but since the pandemic began she has started carrying an Ambu bag, which pumps air into a person’s lungs and avoids mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Among the three people, she said, it took six doses of Narcan to revive them. The police officers didn’t step in to help but did toss several overdose-reversal doses toward Pichardo as she worked.

“I don’t expect ’em to give ’em rescue breaths if they don’t want to, but at least administer the lifesaving drug,” Pichardo said.

In her work as a volunteer, she has reversed almost 400 overdoses, she estimated.

“There’s social distancing — to a limit,” Pichardo said, “I think when someone’s life is in jeopardy, they’re worth saving. You just can’t watch people die.”

Even before Philadelphia officially issued its stay-at-home order, city police announced they would stop making low-level arrests, including for narcotics. The idea was to reduce contact overall, help keep the jail population low and reduce the risk of the virus getting passed around inside. But Pichardo and other community activists said the decreased law enforcement emboldened drug dealers in the Kensington neighborhood, where open-air drug sales and use are common.

“You can tell they have everything down pat, from the lookout to the corner boys to the one actually holding the product — the one holding the product’s got some good PPE gear,” said Pichardo.

More dealers working openly on the street has led to more fights over territory, she added, which in turn has meant more violence. While overall crime in Philadelphia and other major cities has declined during the pandemic, gun violence has spiked.

Police resumed arrests at the beginning of May.

Now when she goes out to offer relief and hand out Narcan, Pichardo packs a few extra things in her bag of supplies: face masks, gloves and gun locks.

“It’s like the survival kit of the ’hood,” she said.

For those struggling with addiction who are ready to start recovery, newly relaxed federal restrictions have made it easier to get medications that curb opioid cravings and stem withdrawal. Several efforts are underway among Philadelphia-based public health groups and criminal justice advocacy organizations to give cellphones to people who are homeless or coming out of jail, so they can make a telehealth appointment and get quicker access to a prescription for those medicines.

During the pandemic, people taking medication-assisted treatment can renew their prescription every month instead of every week, which helps decrease trips to the pharmacy. It is too soon to know if more people are taking advantage of the new rules, and accessing medication-assisted treatment via telehealth, but if that turns out to be the case, many addiction medicine specialists argue the new rules should become permanent, even after the pandemic ends.

“If we find that these relaxed restrictions are bringing more people to the table, that presents enormous ethical questions about whether or not the DEA should reinstate these restrictive policies that they had going in the first place,” said Dr. Ben Cocchiaro, a physician who treats people with substance-use disorder.

Cocchiaro said the whole point of addiction treatment is to facilitate help as soon as someone is ready for it. He hopes if access to recovery can be made simpler during a pandemic, it can remain that way afterward.

This story is part of a partnership that includes WHYY, NPR and Kaiser Health News.

Coronavirus Crisis Opens Access To Online Opioid Addiction Treatment

Under the national emergency, the government has waived a law that required patients to have an in-person visit with a physician before they could be prescribed drugs that help quell withdrawal symptoms, such as Suboxone. Now they can get those prescriptions via a phone call or videoconference with a doctor. That may give video addiction therapy a kick-start.

[UPDATED on April 28]

Opioid addiction isn’t taking a break during the coronavirus pandemic.

But the U.S. response to the viral crisis is making addiction treatment easier to get.

Under the national emergency declared by the Trump administration in March, the government has suspended a federal law that required patients to have an in-person visit with a physician before they could be prescribed drugs that help quell withdrawal symptoms, such as Suboxone. Patients can now get those prescriptions via a phone call or videoconference with a doctor.

Addiction experts have been calling for that change for years to help expand access for patients in many parts of country that have shortages of physicians eligible to prescribe these medication-assisted treatments. A federal report in January found that 40% of U.S. counties don’t have a single health care provider approved to prescribe buprenorphine, an active ingredient in Suboxone.

A 2018 law called for the new policy, but regulations were never finalized.

“I wish there was another way to get this done besides a pandemic,” said Dr. David Kan, chief medical officer of Bright Heart Health, a Walnut Creek, California, company. It has recently started working with insurers and health providers to help addicted patients get therapy and medications without having to leave their homes. He said he hopes the administration will make the changes permanent after the national emergency ends.

For years before the emergency regulations, Bright Heart — along with several other telemedicine counseling providers — began offering opioid addiction treatment and counseling via telemedicine, even if they couldn’t prescribe initial medication for addiction. Patients can renew prescriptions for drugs to deal with withdrawal symptoms, get drug-tested and meet with counselors for therapy.

When Nathan Post needed help overcoming a decade-long drug addiction, he went online in 2018 and used Bright Heart Health to connect to a doctor and weekly individual and group counseling sessions. He said the convenience is a big benefit.

“As an addict, it was easy to have excuses not to do stuff, but this was easy because I could just be in my living room and turn on my computer, so I had no reason to blow it off,” he said.

Post, 38, a tattoo artist who recently moved from New Mexico to Iowa City, Iowa, was addicted to Suboxone, the drug he was prescribed in 2009 to deal with an addiction to opioid pills.

Officials with the insurer Anthem said using Bright Heart’s telemedicine option has helped increase medication-assisted treatment for members with opioid drug abuse issues from California and nine other states from 16% to more than 30%. While fewer than 5% of Anthem patients seeking addiction treatment use telemedicine, the company expects the option to become more common.

Bright Heart Health officials say one barometer of the effectiveness of the care is that 90% of patients are still in treatment after 30 days and 65% after 90 days — far higher than with traditional treatment.

Several insurers — including Aetna, and Blue Cross and Blue Shield companies like Anthem across the country — have begun covering the telemedicine addiction service.

Dr. Miriam Komaromy, medical director of Boston Medical Center’s Grayken Center for Addiction, said there are some downsides to virtual care.

“I think therapists and providers do worry whether it provides the same level of engagement with the patient and whether it’s possible to gauge someone’s sincerity and level of motivation as easily over a camera as in person,” she said.

But she predicted telemedicine service will grow because of the tremendous need to broaden access to mental health and addiction counseling. “Too often the default is no counseling for patients,” she said. “This gives us another set of tools.”

Patients can also have trouble finding a doctor who is eligible to prescribe medication to help treat addiction. Physicians are required to get a federal license to prescribe Suboxone and other controlled substances that help patients with opioid addictions and can write only limited numbers of prescriptions each month. Many doctors hesitate to seek that qualification.

A few small studies have found that patients are as likely to stay with telemedicine treatment as with in-person care for drug addiction. But no studies have determined whether one type of therapy is more effective.

Telemedicine does have its limits — and is not right for everyone, particularly patients who require more intensive inpatient care or who lack easy internet access, Komaromy said.

Premera Blue Cross and Blue Shield officials said they are partnering with Boulder Care, a digital recovery program based in Portland, Oregon, to help customers in rural Alaska. “Telemedicine is a unique way for someone to go through treatment in a discreet manner,” said Rick Abbott, a Premera vice president.

Nathan Post, a tattoo artist living in Iowa City, Iowa, used a telemedicine service to help overcome his addiction to Suboxone. “This was easy because I could just be in my living room and turn on my computer, so I had no reason to blow it off,” he says. (Courtesy of Nathan Post)

While telemedicine has been growing in popularity for physical medicine, some people may still be reluctant to use it for drug addiction.

There are also concerns that allowing providers to prescribe controlled substances without meeting patients in person could increase the risks of fraud.

“There is a fear around this that there may be some rogue providers who make a lot of money off addiction and will do it stealthily on the internet,” said Dr. Alyson Smith, an addiction medical specialist with Boulder Care. “While that is a small risk, we have to compare it to the huge benefit of expanding treatment that will save lives.”

Smith said she doesn’t notice a big difference in treating patients for drug addiction in her office compared with on a video screen. She can still see patients’ pupils to make sure they are dilated and ask them about how they are feeling — which can determine whether it’s appropriate to prescribe certain drugs. Dilated pupils are a sign of patients suffering from withdrawal from heroin and other drugs.

Dr. Dawn Abriel, who treated Post and previously directed a methadone clinic in Albuquerque, New Mexico, said she can diagnose patients over video without issue.

“I can pick up an awful lot on the video,” particularly a patient’s body language, she said. “I think people open up to me more because they are sitting in their homes and in their place of comfort.”

In West Virginia, one of the states hardest hit by the opioid addiction epidemic, Highmark, a Blue Cross and Blue Shield company, started offering telehealth addiction coverage with Bright Heart Health in January. Highmark officials say a lack of providers, particularly in rural parts of the state, meant that many of the insurer’s members had difficulty finding the help they need.

Dr. Caesar DeLeo, vice president and executive medical director of strategic initiatives for Highmark, said the insurer was having problems getting customers into care. Only about a third of members with addiction issues were receiving treatment, he said.

“We needed to address the crisis with a new approach,” DeLeo said. “This will give people more options and give primary care doctors who do not want to prescribe Suboxone another place to refer patients.”

DeLeo said patients will also be referred to Bright Heart in hospital emergency rooms.

Dr. Paul Leonard, an emergency doctor and medical director for Workit Health, an Ann Arbor, Michigan, company offering telemedicine treatment and counseling programs, said many patients who turn to ERs for addiction treatment get little help finding counseling. With online therapy, patients can sign up while still in the ER.

“We’ve built a better mousetrap,” Leonard said.

Telemedicine addiction providers said they and their patients are getting more accustomed to virtual care.

“There are always times you wish you could reach out and hold someone’s hand, and you can’t do that,” said Boulder’s Smith. “But we feel like we are more skilled at a virtual hand-holding and really connect with people and they feel well supported in return.”

California’s New Attack On Opioid Addiction Hits Old Roadblocks

State officials in California have achieved some success in promoting the use of medication-assisted treatment for people with opioid addictions, but they are bumping up against familiar resistance and constraints.

Jennifer Stilwell, a 30-year-old mother of two young children, kicked heroin cold turkey five years ago, but she got hooked again last fall.

Stilwell, an accountant in Placerville, California, tried to quit a second time, but she couldn’t tolerate the sickening withdrawal symptoms. She resisted going to the emergency room because “I thought they’d treat me like a drug addict and not a patient in pain,” she said.

Instead, she kept smoking heroin to keep the agony at bay. Then, in February, a county mental health worker told her about a new program that promised stigma-free treatment for her addiction.

She went to the ER at Marshall Medical Center in Placerville, where a doctor put her on buprenorphine, one of three drugs approved by the Food and Drug Administration for medication-assisted treatment (MAT) of people with opioid dependency.

Her ongoing treatment includes intensive counseling and social support, providing what is known in the recovery field as “whole person” therapy.

“It’s still early in my battle,” Stilwell said. “But my withdrawals are gone. Now I can concentrate on being a mother.”

Marshall is one of a growing number of health care institutions across California that offer medication-assisted treatment with funding and support from the state’s MAT Expansion Project, which started in 2018 and is financed by $265 million in federal grants.

Numerous studies have shown that relapse and overdose rates are lower among opioid users who get MAT than those who don’t. From 2016 to 2018, for example, the overdose death rate in Humboldt County — one of California’s highest ― dropped by about half, which officials attributed in large part to the MAT Expansion Project.

In February, California’s Department of Health Care Services, which administers the project, touted its success, reporting that it has provided care for 22,000 previously untreated Californians with opioid addictions and created 650 new locations where patients can receive MAT.

But the number of new people brought into treatment is only a small fraction of those who need it. In 2019, more than half a million Californians with an opioid use disorder lacked access to treatment, according to a study by the Urban Institute.

The state effort faces many of the same obstacles that have hindered wider acceptance of MAT for years: the stigma of addiction, federal regulations that depress the number of MAT providers, and hostility in some corners of the treatment community to the very notion of using drugs to combat drug addiction.

Moreover, the addiction treatment industry has become a magnet in recent years for unscrupulous operators who aggressively recruit clients, eyes fixed on the dollar signs rather than on evidence-based treatments such as MAT.

Now there’s another, hopefully temporary, challenge. The COVID-19 crisis and related social-distancing measures are forcing MAT practitioners to scramble for new ways to accommodate patients, said Eric Hill, a “substance navigator” at Marshall Medical Center who helps guide patients through their MAT treatment.

Hill said MAT patients entering the program through emergency rooms are now given prescriptions for up to a month, rather than a week. He said he is following up with clients by phone rather than in person, and he and others are trying to arrange video calls between doctors and patients for prescription renewals.

The state program seeks to broaden access to MAT by launching or enhancing treatment programs at ERs, hospitals, primary care clinics, residential treatment programs, county mental health centers, jails and drug courts. Training more doctors to provide MAT is also a pillar of the campaign.

But patients who take anti-addiction drugs can have difficulty finding housing and recovery therapy, which are integral to their treatment. They are often shunned by groups adhering to traditional 12-step theories of sobriety that require participants to be free of drugs — including MAT drugs.

“MAT patients will say that the treatment was working. They were just starting to feel better, going to support groups, back at their jobs, but they had a hard time finding a place to live,” said Hill.

Many patients who stop taking their MAT drugs in order to get a roof over their heads have relapsed, Hill said.

Marlies Perez, a division chief at the state health care department, said the agency “is taking a strong stand against such stigma that prevents patients from their continued recovery.” Through its media campaign, Choose Change California, it seeks to alter perceptions within the recovery community and persuade more doctors and patients to embrace MAT.

The state expansion project puts a strong emphasis on building MAT capacity in emergency rooms, where opioid users often face suspicion.

Of the 320 acute care hospitals with emergency rooms statewide, 52 currently offer MAT. In those hospitals, staff members like Hill help patients get the care they need, including the psychological and social dimensions. Health care department officials say they plan to quadruple the number of participating hospitals to more than 200 over the next few years.

(Photo Courtesy of Jennifer Stilwell)

Opioid misuse is not nearly as deadly in California as in the rest of the U.S., even though the rise of fentanyl has begun to cause bigger problems in the Golden State.

In 2018, the rate of opioid overdose deaths in California stood at 5.8 per 100,000 residents, far below the national average of 14.6 per 100,000. In some rural counties of California, however, opioid death rates exceed the national average. The two states with the highest rates were West Virginia, at 42.4 per 100,000, and Delaware at 39.3.

Another obstacle to MAT expansion, one squarely in the sights of California health authorities, is that many doctors are hesitant to participate because they must undergo federally mandated training for a waiver that allows them to prescribe buprenorphine.

“Doctors can prescribe OxyContin with abandon but not buprenorphine, which has been shown to be helpful to opioid addicts,” said Dr. Aimee Moulin, a director at the California Bridge Program, which helps administer the state’s MAT program.

Buprenorphine is less powerful and less likely to cause fatal overdoses than methadone, another drug commonly used to fight opioid addiction. And doctors who get the waiver for buprenorphine can prescribe it in their offices, while methadone must be administered in federally certified treatment programs.

The state’s health care department said the expansion project has thus far trained 395 new MAT prescribers. But as of July 2019, just 3.2% of prescribers in the state were authorized to prescribe buprenorphine, according to the Urban Institute study.

Dr. Peter Liepmann, a Pasadena-based family physician with an interest in addiction medicine, said it can be difficult to find a buprenorphine prescriber. Not long ago, when he was thinking about opening a practice in Glendale, California, he consulted the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration’s (SAMHSA) listings of physicians who offer MAT.

“If you were looking for somebody to dispense buprenorphine and you called people on that list, you would have come up with one doctor who ran a cash-only, no-insurance practice, and he was very expensive,” Liepmann said.

The state’s Perez said some doctors may not fully understand the benefits of MAT because medical schools devote little time to addiction training. Another element of the MAT project, she said, is to fund a substance-use-disorder curriculum at training hospitals.

Perez counseled patience: “We didn’t get into this opioid dependency situation overnight, and we’re not going to find a total solution overnight either.”

This KHN story first published on California Healthline, a service of the California Health Care Foundation.

They Fell In Love Helping Drug Users. But Fear Kept Him From Helping Himself.

Sarah and Andy fell in love while working to keep drug users from overdosing. But when his own addiction reemerged, Andy’s fear of returning to prison kept him from the best treatment.

She was in medical school. He was just out of prison.

Sarah Ziegenhorn and Andy Beeler’s romance grew out of a shared passion to do more about the country’s drug overdose crisis.

Ziegenhorn moved back to her home state of Iowa when she was 26. She had been working in Washington, D.C., where she also volunteered at a needle exchange — where drug users can get clean needles. She was ambitious and driven to help those in her community who were overdosing and dying, including people she had grown up with.

“Many people were just missing because they were dead,” said Ziegenhorn, now 31. “I couldn’t believe more wasn’t being done.”

She started doing addiction advocacy in Iowa City while in medical school — lobbying local officials and others to support drug users with social services.

Beeler had the same conviction, born from his personal experience.

“He had been a drug user for about half of his life — primarily a longtime opiate user,” Ziegenhorn said.

Beeler spent years in and out of the criminal justice system for a variety of drug-related crimes, such as burglary and possession. In early 2018, he was released from prison. He was on parole and looking for ways to help drug users in his hometown.

He found his way to advocacy work and, through that work, found Ziegenhorn. Soon they were dating.

“He was just this really sweet, no-nonsense person who was committed to justice and equity,” she said. “Even though he was suffering in many ways, he had a very calming presence.”

People close to Beeler describe him as a “blue-collar guy” who liked motorcycles and home carpentry, someone who was gentle and endlessly curious. Those qualities could sometimes hide his struggle with anxiety and depression. Over the next year, Beeler’s other struggle, with opioid addiction, would flicker around the edges of their life together.

Eventually, it killed him.

People on parole and under supervision of the corrections system can face barriers to receiving appropriate treatment for opioid addiction. Ziegenhorn said she believes Beeler’s death is linked to the many obstacles to medical care he experienced while on parole.

About 4.5 million people are on parole or probation in the U.S., and research shows that those under community supervision are much more likely to have a history of substance use disorder than the general population. Yet rules and practices guiding these agencies can preclude parolees and people on probation from getting evidence-based treatment for their addiction.

A Shared Passion For Reducing Harm

From their first meeting, Ziegenhorn said, she and Beeler were in sync, partners and passionate about their work in harm reduction — public health strategies designed to reduce risky behaviors that can hurt health.

After she moved to Iowa, Ziegenhorn founded a small nonprofit called the Iowa Harm Reduction Coalition. The group distributes the opioid-overdose reversal drug naloxone and other free supplies to drug users, with the goal of keeping them safe from illness and overdose. The group also works to reduce the stigma that can dehumanize and isolate drug users. Beeler served as the group’s coordinator of harm reduction services.

“In Iowa, there was a feeling that this kind of work was really radical,” Ziegenhorn said. “Andy was just so excited to find out someone was doing it.”

Meanwhile, Ziegenhorn was busy with medical school. Beeler helped her study. She recalled how they used to take her practice tests together.

“Andy had a really sophisticated knowledge of science and medicine,” she said. “Most of the time he’d been in prison and jails, he’d spent his time reading and learning.”

Beeler was trying to stay away from opioids, but Ziegenhorn said he still used heroin sometimes. Twice she was there to save his life when he overdosed. During one episode, a bystander called the police, which led to his parole officer finding out.

“That was really a period of a lot of terror for him,” Ziegenhorn said.

Beeler was constantly afraid the next slip — another overdose or a failed drug test — would send him back to prison.

An Injury, A Search For Relief

A year into their relationship, a series of events suddenly brought Beeler’s history of opioid use into painful focus.

It began with a fall on the winter ice. Beeler dislocated his shoulder — the same one he’d had surgery on as a teenager.

“At the emergency room, they put his shoulder back into place for him,” Ziegenhorn said. “The next day it came out again.”

She said doctors wouldn’t prescribe him prescription opioids for the pain because Beeler had a history of illegal drug use. His shoulder would dislocate often, sometimes more than once a day.

“He was living with this daily, really severe constant pain — he started using heroin very regularly,” Ziegenhorn said.

Beeler knew what precautions to take when using opioids: Keep naloxone on hand, test the drugs first and never use alone. Still, his use was escalating quickly.

A Painful Dilemma 

The couple discussed the future and their hope of having a baby together, and eventually Ziegenhorn and Beeler agreed: He had to stop using heroin.

They thought his best chance was to start on a Food and Drug Administration-approved medication for opioid addiction, such as methadone or buprenorphine. Methadone is an opioid, and buprenorphine engages many of the same opioid receptors in the brain; both drugs can curb opioid cravings and stabilize patients. Studies show daily maintenance therapy with such treatment reduces the risks of overdose and improves health outcomes.

But Beeler was on parole, and his parole officer drug-tested him for opioids and buprenorphine specifically. Beeler worried that if a test came back positive, the officer might see that as a signal that Beeler had been using drugs illegally.

Ziegenhorn said Beeler felt trapped: “He could go back to prison or continue trying to obtain opioids off the street and slowly detox himself.”

He worried that a failed drug test — even if it was for a medication to treat his addiction — would land him in prison. Beeler decided against the medication.

A few days later, Ziegenhorn woke up early for school. Beeler had worked late and fallen asleep in the living room. Ziegenhorn gave him a kiss and headed out the door. Later that day, she texted him. No reply.

She started to worry and asked a friend to check on him. Not long afterward, Beeler was found dead, slumped in his chair at his desk. He’d overdosed.

“He was my partner in thought, and in life and in love,” Ziegenhorn said.

It’s hard for her not to rewind what happened that day and wonder how it could have been different. But mostly she’s angry that he didn’t have better choices.

“Andy died because he was too afraid to get treatment,” she said.

Beeler was services coordinator for the Iowa Harm Reduction Coalition, a group that works to help keep drug users safe. A tribute in Iowa City after his death began, “He died of an overdose, but he’ll be remembered for helping others avoid a similar fate.”(Courtesy of Sarah Ziegenhorn)

How Does Parole Handle Relapse? It Depends

It’s not clear that Beeler would have gone back to prison for admitting he’d relapsed and was taking treatment. His parole officer did not agree to an interview.

But Ken Kolthoff, who oversees the parole program that supervised Beeler in Iowa’s First Judicial District Department of Correctional Services, said generally he and his colleagues would not punish someone who sought out treatment because of a relapse.

“We would see that that would be an example of somebody actually taking an active role in their treatment and getting the help they needed,” said Kolthoff.

The department doesn’t have rules prohibiting any form of medication for opioid addiction, he said, as long as it’s prescribed by a doctor.

“We have people relapse every single day under our supervision. And are they being sent to prison? No. Are they being sent to jail? No,” Kolthoff said.

But Dr. Andrea Weber, an addiction psychiatrist with the University of Iowa, said Beeler’s reluctance to start treatment is not unusual.

“I think a majority of my patients would tell me they wouldn’t necessarily trust going to their [parole officer],” said Weber, assistant director of addiction medicine at the University of Iowa’s Carver College of Medicine. “The punishment is so high. The consequences can be so great.”

Weber finds probation and parole officers have “inconsistent” attitudes toward her patients who are on medication-assisted treatment.

“Treatment providers, especially in our area, are still very much ingrained in an abstinence-only, 12-step mentality, which traditionally has meant no medications,” Weber said. “That perception then invades the entire system.”

Attitudes And Policies Vary Widely

Experts say it’s difficult to draw any comprehensive picture about the availability of medication for opioid addiction in the parole and probation system. The limited amount of research suggests that medication-assisted treatment is significantly underused.

“It’s hard to quantify because there are such a large number of individuals under community supervision in different jurisdictions,” said Michael Gordon, a senior research scientist at the Friends Research Institute, based in Baltimore.

A national survey published in 2013 found that about half of drug courts did not allow methadone or other evidence-based medications used to treat opioid use disorder.

A more recent study of probation and parole agencies in Illinois reported that about a third had regulations preventing the use of medications for opioid use disorder. Researchers found the most common barrier for those on probation or parole “was lack of experience by medical personnel.”

Faye Taxman, a criminology professor at George Mason University, said decisions about how to handle a client’s treatment often boil down to the individual officer’s judgment.

“We have a long way to go,” she said. “Given that these agencies don’t typically have access to medical care for clients, they are often fumbling in terms of trying to think of the best policies and practices.”

Increasingly, there is a push to make opioid addiction treatment available within prisons and jails. In 2016, the Rhode Island Department of Corrections started allowing all three FDA-approved medications for opioid addiction. That led to a dramatic decrease in fatal opioid overdoses among those who had been recently incarcerated.

Massachusetts has taken similar steps. Such efforts have only indirectly affected parole and probation.

“When you are incarcerated in prison or jail, the institution has a constitutional responsibility to provide medical services,” Taxman said. “In community corrections, that same standard does not exist.”

Taxman said agencies may be reluctant to offer these medications because it’s one more thing to monitor. Those under supervision are often left to figure out on their own what’s allowed.

“They don’t want to raise too many issues because their freedom and liberties are attached to the response,” she said.

Richard Hahn, a researcher at New York University’s Marron Institute of Urban Management who consults on crime and drug policy, said some agencies are shifting their approach.

“There is a lot of pressure on probation and parole agencies not to violate people just on a dirty urine or for an overdose” said Hahn, who is executive director of the institute’s Crime & Justice Program.

The federal government’s Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration calls medication-assisted treatment the “gold standard” for treating opioid addiction when used alongside “other psychosocial support.”

Addiction is considered a disability under the Americans with Disabilities Act, said Sally Friedman, vice president of legal advocacy for the Legal Action Center, a nonprofit law firm based in New York City.

She said disability protections extend to the millions of people on parole or probation. But people under community supervision, Friedman said, often don’t have an attorney who can use this legal argument to advocate for them when they need treatment.

“Prohibiting people with that disability from taking medication that can keep them alive and well violates the ADA,” she said.

This story is part of a partnership between NPR and Kaiser Health News.

No Quick Fix: Missouri Finds Managing Pain Without Opioids Isn’t Fast Or Easy

In the first nine months of an alternative pain management program in Missouri, only a small fraction of the state’s Medicaid recipients have accessed the chiropractic care, acupuncture, physical therapy and cognitive-behavioral therapy meant to combat the overprescription of opioids.

ST. LOUIS — Missouri began offering chiropractic care, acupuncture, physical therapy and cognitive-behavioral therapy for Medicaid patients in April, the latest state to try an alternative to opioids for those battling chronic pain.

Yet only about 500 of the state’s roughly 330,000 adult Medicaid users accessed the program through December, at a cost of $190,000, according to Josh Moore, the Missouri Medicaid pharmacy director. While the numbers may reflect an undercount because of lags in submitting claims, the jointly funded federal-state program known in the state as MO HealthNet is hitting just a fraction of possible patients so far.

Meanwhile, according to the state, opioids were still being doled out: 109,610 Missouri Medicaid patients of all age groups received opioid prescriptions last year.

The going has been slow, health experts said, because of a slew of barriers. Such treatments are more time-consuming and involved than simply getting a prescription. A limited number of providers offer alternative treatment options, especially to Medicaid patients. And perhaps the biggest problem? These therapies don’t seem to work for everyone.

The slow rollout highlights the overall challenges in implementing programs aimed at righting the ship on opioid abuse in Missouri — and nationwide. To be sure, from 2012 to 2019, the number of Missouri Medicaid patients prescribed opioid drugs fell by more than a third — and the quantity of opioids dispensed by Medicaid dropped by more than half.

Still, opioid overdoses killed an estimated 1,132 Missourians in 2018 and 46,802 Americans nationally, according to the latest data available. Progress to change that can be frustratingly slow.

“The opioids crisis we got into wasn’t born in a year,” Moore said. “To expect we’d get perfect results after a year would be incredibly optimistic.”

Despite limited data on the efficacy of alternative pain management plans, such efforts have become more accepted, especially following a summer report of pain management best practices from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. States such as Ohio and Oregon see them as one part of a menu of options aimed at curbing the opioid crisis.

St. Louis chiropractor Ross Mattox, an assistant professor at chiropractic school Logan University, sees both uninsured patients and those on Medicaid at the CareSTL clinic. He cheered Missouri’s decision to expand access, despite how long it took to get here.

“One of the most common things I heard from providers,” he said, “is ‘I want to send my patient to a chiropractor, but they don’t have the insurance. I don’t want to prescribe an opioid — I’d rather go a more conservative route — but that’s the only option I have.’”

And that can lead to the same tragic story: Someone gets addicted to opioids, runs out of a prescription and turns to the street before becoming another sad statistic.

“It all starts quite simply with back pain,” Mattox said.

Practical Barriers

While Missouri health care providers now have another tool besides prescribing opioids to patients with Medicaid, the multistep approaches required by alternative treatments create many more hoops than a pharmacy visit.

The physicians who recommend such treatments must support the option, and patients must agree. Then the patient must be able to find a provider who accepts Medicaid, get to the provider’s office even if far away and then undergo multiple, time-consuming therapies.

“After you see the chiropractor’s for one visit, it’s not like you’re cured from using opioids forever — it would take months and months and months,” Moore said.

The effort and cost that go into coordinating a care plan with multiple alternative pain therapies is another barrier.

“Covering a course of cheap opioid pills is different than trying to create a multidisciplinary individualized plan that may or may not work,” said Leo Beletsky, a professor of law and health sciences at Northeastern University in Boston, noting that the scientific evidence of the efficacy of such treatments is mixed.

And then there’s the reimbursement issue for the providers. Corry Meyers, an acupuncturist in suburban St. Louis, does not accept insurance in his practice. But he said other acupuncturists in Missouri debate whether to take advantage of the new Medicaid program, concerned the payment rates to providers will be too low to be worthwhile.

“It runs the gamut, as everyone agrees that these patients need it,” Meyers stressed. But he said many acupuncturists wonder: “Am I going to be able to stay open if I take Medicaid?”

Structural Issues 

While helpful, plans like Missouri’s don’t address the structural problems at the root of the opioid crisis, Beletsky said.

“Opioid overutilization or overprescribing is not just a crisis in and of itself; it’s a symptom of broader structural problems in the U.S. health care system,” he said. “Prescribers reached for opioids in larger and larger numbers not just because they were being fooled into doing so by these pharmaceutical companies, but because they work really well for a broad variety of ailments for which we’re not doing enough in terms of prevention and treatment.”

Fixing some of the core problems leading to opioid dependence — rural health care “deserts” and the impact of manual labor and obesity on chronic pain — requires much more than a treatment alternative, Beletsky said.

And no matter how many alternatives are offered, he said, opioids will remain a crucial medicine for some patients.

Furthermore, while alternative pain management therapies may lessen opioid prescriptions, they do not address exploding methamphetamine addiction or other addiction crises leading to overdoses nationwide — even as a flood of funds pours in from the national and state level to fight these crises.

The Show-Me State’s refusal to expand Medicaid coverage to more people under the Affordable Care Act also hampers overall progress, said Dr. Fred Rottnek, a family and addiction doctor who sits on the St. Louis Regional Health Commission as chair of the Provider Services Advisory Board.

“The problem is we relatively cover so few people in Missouri with Medicaid,” he said. “The denominator is so small that it doesn’t affect the numbers a whole lot.”

But providers like Mattox are happy that such alternative treatments are now an option, even if they’re available only for a limited audience.

He just wishes it had been done sooner.

“A lot of it has to do with politics and the slow gears of government,” he said. “Unfortunately, it’s taken people dying — it’s taken enough of a crisis for people to open their eyes and say, ‘Maybe there’s a better way to do this.’”