Legislation by state Sen. Scott Wiener (D) and Assembly member Marie Waldron (R) would allow the therapeutic use of psilocybin, mescaline, ecstasy and dimethyltryptamine — a chemical that occurs in the psychoactive ayahuasca plant mixture — in state-approved locations under the supervision of licensed individuals. It would also regulate the production, distribution, quality control and sale of those psychedelics.

The bill is intended to get across the desk of Gov. Gavin Newsom, a Democrat who vetoed broader decriminalization legislation last year while calling psychedelics “an exciting frontier” and asking for “regulated treatment guidelines” in the next version.

While most psychedelics are prohibited under federal law, them to be promising treatments for depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder and addiction. , have effectively decriminalized their use, as has Colorado. Oregon, which previously decriminalized personal possession of all illegal drugs, including psychedelics, rolled back that policy but created a system to regulate the use of psilocybin mushrooms.

Leanne Cavellini, 49, of Pleasanton, Calif., attended a psychedelic retreat in Mexico this year. She said the experience helped her overcome deep-rooted trauma.

“The person I was before was a wound-up tight ball of rubber bands who kept everything in and felt a lot of fear and worry,” Cavellini said. “The person I am today is very free. I live in the present moment. I don’t live other people’s lives, and I don’t take on their emotions.”

State regulation, though, doesn’t always mean easy access. Oregon permits consumption of psilocybin mushrooms only under the guidance of state-licensed facilitators in “psilocybin service centers.” Sessions can cost more than $2,500; they’re not covered by insurance.

Colorado is building regulated “healing centers,” where people will be able to take psilocybin mushrooms and some other psychedelics under the supervision of licensed facilitators.

In California, one obstacle is the state’s $45 billion budget deficit. Its elected leaders are already looking for programs to cut. One that doesn’t yet exist could be low-hanging fruit.

Under the pending legislation, anyone hoping to be licensed to supervise people using psychedelics will need a professional health credential.

Bills pending in several other states would ease access to psychedelics or relax current laws against them.

Some first responder and veterans groups are among legalization’s biggest boosters, and there is significant public support. out of the University of California at Berkeley last year showed 61 percent of registered voters in the United States support regulated therapeutic access to psychedelics — though nearly half of those respondents said such drugs were not “good for society.”

Ken Finn, the former president of the American Board of Pain Medicine, said although the science around psychedelics is promising, the California legislation is premature “pending more robust and rigorous research to protect public safety.”

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“The guy was up there screaming and squirming. Then the cab caught on fire,” Trammell says. “I couldn’t move him. He burned to death right there in my arms.”

Memories of that gruesome death and other traumatic incidents he had witnessed as a firefighter in Mountain View, California, didn’t seem to bother Trammell for the first seven years after he retired in 2015. But then he started crying a lot, drinking heavily, and losing sleep. At first, he didn’t understand why, but he would later come to suspect he was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

After therapy failed to improve his mental well-being, he heard about the potential benefits of psychedelic drugs to help first responders with PTSD.

Last July, Trammell went on a retreat in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, organized by , a nonprofit that advocates the use of psychedelics and other alternative medicines to help first responders. He took psilocybin mushrooms and, the next day, another psychedelic derived from the toxic secretions of the . The experience, he says, produced an existential shift in the way he thinks of the terrible things he saw as a firefighter.

“All that trauma and all that crap I saw and dealt with, it’s all very temporary and everything goes back into the universe as energy,” Trammell says.

has shown that psychedelics have the potential to produce lasting relief from depression, anxiety, PTSD, addiction, and other mental health conditions. Many universities around the United States have programs researching psychedelics. But experts warn that these powerful drugs are not for everybody, especially those with a history of psychosis or cardiovascular problems.

Most psychedelic drugs are prohibited under federal law, but California may soon join of local and state governments allowing their use.

working its way through the California Legislature, would allow the therapeutic use of psilocybin; mescaline; MDMA, the active ingredient in ecstasy; and dimethyltryptamine, the , a plant-based psychoactive tea. The drugs could be purchased and ingested in approved locations under the supervision of facilitators, who would undergo training and be licensed by a new state board. The facilitators would need a professional health credential to qualify.

The bill, co-sponsored by Sen. Scott Wiener (D-San Francisco), Assembly member Marie Waldron (R-San Diego), and several other lawmakers, follows last year’s unsuccessful effort to decriminalize certain psychedelics for personal use. Gov. Gavin Newsom, a Democrat, , though he extolled psychedelics as “an exciting frontier” and asked for new legislation with “regulated treatment guidelines.”

Wiener says the new bill was drafted with Newsom’s request in mind. It is supported by some veterans and first responder groups and opposed by numerous law enforcement agencies.

One potential roadblock is the state’s budget deficit, pegged at between and . Newsom and legislative leaders may choose not to launch a new initiative when they are cutting existing programs. “That is something we’ll certainly grapple with,” Wiener says.

The legislation, which is making its way through committees, would require the new board to begin accepting facilitator license applications in April 2026. The system would look somewhat like the one in Oregon, which allows the use of psilocybin mushrooms under the guidance of state-licensed facilitators at psilocybin service centers. And like Oregon, California would not allow for the personal use or possession of psychedelics; the drugs would have to be purchased and consumed at the authorized locations.

Colorado, following the passage of a ballot initiative in 2022, is creating a system of regulated “healing centers,” where people will be able to legally consume psilocybin mushrooms and some other psychedelics under the supervision of licensed facilitators. Colorado’s law allows for the personal use and possession of a handful of psychedelics.

In California, the cities of Oakland, San Francisco, Berkeley, Santa Cruz, and Arcata have effectively decriminalized many psychedelics, as have other cities around the United States, including Ann Arbor, Michigan; Cambridge, Massachusetts; Detroit; Minneapolis; Seattle; and Washington, D.C.

Psychedelics such as psilocybin, ayahuasca, and peyote have been by Indigenous populations in Latin America and the current-day United States. And some non-Indigenous groups use these substances in a spiritual way.

The , with locations in San Francisco and Oakland, considers psilocybin mushrooms, also known as magic mushrooms, a sacrament. “Mushrooms affect the border between this world and the next, and allow people to connect to their soul,” says Dave Hodges, founder and pastor of the church.

Hodges was behind an unsuccessful attempt to get an initiative on the California ballot this year that would have decriminalized the possession and use of mushrooms. He hopes it will qualify for the 2026 ballot.

The pending California legislation is rooted in studies showing psychedelics can be powerful agents in mental health treatment.

Charles Grob, a psychiatry professor at the University of California-Los Angeles School of Medicine who has researched psychedelics for nearly 40 years, led that found synthetic psilocybin could help reduce end-of-life anxiety in patients with advanced-stage cancer.

Grob says MDMA is good for couples counseling because it facilitates communication and puts people in touch with their feelings. And he conducted research in Brazil that showed ayahuasca used in a religious context helped people overcome alcoholism.

But Grob warns that the unsupervised use of psychedelics can be dangerous and says people should undergo mental and medical health screenings before ingesting them. “There are cases of people going off the rails. It’s a small minority, but it can happen, and when it does happen it can be very frightening,” Grob says.

Ken Finn, past president of the American Board of Pain Medicine, says that psychedelics have a number of side effects, including elevated blood pressure, high heart rate, and vomiting, and that they can trigger “persistent psychosis” in a small minority of users. Legal drugs also pose risks, he says, “but we have much better guardrails on things like prescriptions and over-the-counter medications.” He also worries about product contamination and says manufacturers would need to be tightly regulated.

Another potential problem is health equity. Since insurance would not cover these sessions, at least initially, they would likely attract people with disposable income. A supervised psilocybin journey in Oregon, for example, can cost more than $2,500.

Many people who have experienced psychedelics corroborate the research results. Ben Kramer, a former Marine who served in Afghanistan and now works as a psilocybin facilitator in Beaverton, Oregon, says a high-dose mushroom session altered his worldview.

“I relived the first time I was ever shot at in Afghanistan,” he says. “I was there. I had this overwhelming love and compassion for the guy who was shooting at me, who was fighting for what he believed in, just like I was.”

Another characteristic of psychedelic therapy is that just a few sessions can potentially produce lasting results.

Trammell, the retired firefighter, hasn’t taken psychedelics since that retreat in Mexico 10 months ago. “I just felt like I kind of got what I needed,” he says. “I’ve been fine ever since.”

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Many of its patients are aging Chinese speakers with limited incomes who are reliant on Medicare and Medi-Cal, which pay less than commercial insurance and often don’t fully cover provider costs. And due to an arcane federal rule, Chinese Hospital receives a lower rate of reimbursement than many other hospitals that treat a large number of low-income patients. Add the in this post-pandemic world, and it’s not hard to see why the hospital lost $20 million over the past two years and tapped a nearly $10.4 million loan from the state’s distressed hospital loan fund.

Yet the 88-bed hospital has strong ties to the University of California-San Francisco and the city’s public health department. And it gets support from businesses, charities, and the surrounding community. For Jian Zhang, 58, the hospital’s CEO since 2017, fundraising is like breathing.

“I feel like it’s a full-time job for me,” said Zhang, who arrived in San Francisco from Guangzhou, China, as an international student in 1990, earned a nursing doctorate from the University of San Francisco, and has remained in the Bay Area.

Revenue from fundraising and other services have provided a big boost, helping the hospital significantly offset what it lost on patient care in 2022, according to the hospital and state data. By contrast, Madera Community Hospital and Beverly Hospital were far less able to do so. Those hospitals, which also serve low-income populations with many patients on government health care programs, filed for bankruptcy last year.

Chinese Hospital has its roots in a medicinal dispensary, founded in 1899 to provide health care for Chinese immigrants who were effectively excluded from mainstream medical facilities. The hospital itself opened in 1925, and a second building was added next door in 1979. In 2016, a new building replaced the original hospital.

Today, Chinese Hospital includes those two buildings plus five outpatient clinics offering Eastern and Western medicine, spread out across San Francisco and neighboring San Mateo County. Through partnerships, Chinese Hospital has been able to offer specialty services to its patients, including eye surgery, palliative care, and a stroke center. And $10 million in grants it received from the state last year will help build a subacute unit, which is for fragile patients who still need nursing and monitoring following a hospital stay.

In an interview with Ģ��ӰԺ Health News senior correspondent Bernard J. Wolfson, Zhang discussed the challenges facing small independent hospitals, including Chinese Hospital, and offered her vision for its future. The following Q&A has been edited for length and clarity:

Q: What are some of the main challenges your hospital faces?

We are facing all the challenges other hospitals are facing, especially the covid pandemic and its associated negative impact — the physician shortage and workforce shortage, the labor cost increases. But as a small community hospital, we don’t have a lot of reserve money. It’s hard to make ends meet.

That is a huge challenge because of the low reimbursement rate. We serve more than 80% Medicare and Medi-Cal patients.

Q: What are some specific challenges of serving a largely Chinese population?

In this market, with the workforce shortage, and especially after the pandemic, it’s even harder to recruit bilingual physicians, and other bilingual staff.

And culturally, Chinese patients, when they are sick, need to drink soup for healing or eat certain other foods for healing. You can’t be providing sandwiches and salads. They won’t eat that. So our kitchen has to provide Chinese food, has to boil soup, and then we have to cook different food for our patients who are non-Chinese.

Q: Are you concerned about the state’s budget shortfall?

Absolutely. We all were expecting that Medi-Cal would increase rates. We have been pushing that for many years. But if it’s not going to happen, a lot of our programs we probably won’t be able to do. I am very concerned about it.

Q: Chinese Hospital has its own health plan, and you said 40% to 50% of your patients are members of it. How has that helped?

It’s like Kaiser Permanente. You have your own members, and you manage them. You want your patients to be in outpatient. So you take care of them, keep them healthy, so they don’t need to come to the hospital for acute care. That’s how you save money.

Q: And I imagine that getting fixed monthly payments — capitation payments — for a large proportion of your patients also helps?

Definitely, capitation payments help. Especially during the pandemic. Think about it. If you didn’t have capitation payments, when procedures were canceled, you didn’t have income.

Q: What else has helped you weather the storm?

We have partnerships with San Francisco’s Department of Public Health and UCSF. During the pandemic, we took overflow patients from the city, so we didn’t have to lay off a lot of people. We signed a contract with the city to open up the second floor of our hospital to take overflow patients from Zuckerberg San Francisco General hospital.

Q: You also have strong fundraising activity.

We do have strong community support. The hospital is not just a hospital to me. It’s really part of our history. In the past, it was the only place [Chinese people] could go. Wherever I went, to a conference, for example, somebody would raise their hand and say, “Oh, I was born at Chinese Hospital” or “My grandfather was born at Chinese Hospital.” It is really, really deeply rooted in the community.

Q: What’s your vision for the future of the hospital?

Chinese Hospital is very important to the community, and I want to see it survive and thrive. But it definitely needs support from the government and from the community. Moving forward, we will continue to build on collaborations and partnerships.

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The 11-year-old firm, based in Modesto, was already running a handful of small, rural hospitals, but Madera had far larger and more prestigious suitors, including Trinity Health and then Adventist Health.

After those two entities had backed out, the bankruptcy judge tentatively greenlighted the AAM proposal. But a nonprofit community group later , citing concerns about AAM’s commitment to fully reopen the hospital and airing allegations of “dishonesty, fraud, perjury, and maladministration.”

The Madera Coalition for Community Justice and other critics of the AAM deal hoped that Adventist and the University of California-San Francisco, which made a in February to take over the hospital, might get another look.

But Gov. Gavin Newsom all but ended the drama on April 8 by announcing the the AAM plan and would provide a $57 million loan from a fund for distressed hospitals to help reopen and operate the Madera facility.

The same day, AAM, along with the Madera hospital and its creditors, asked the court to from the record and for the judge to consider the motion. MCCJ pushed back with objecting to the request.

The closure of the hospital in left Madera County, home to 160,000 people, largely Hispanic agricultural workers, without a general acute care facility. Like many rural hospitals in California and around the country, the Madera hospital had suffered financial and demographic challenges, including a large proportion of patients on low-paying government insurance programs, low patient volumes, and difficulty attracting talent, in addition to pandemic-related pressures.

AAM has committed to pay to creditors and reopen the hospital as soon as late summer. The company has a portfolio of nine hospitals, many of them in underserved regions of California.

“American Advanced Management has a proven track record of reopening closed hospitals in California and saving others from the brink of closure,” said Matthew Beehler, the company’s chief strategy officer.

It remains uncertain whether AAM can make the Madera hospital financially viable. Reopening alone will cost millions, and many of the same constraints that led to the bankruptcy remain. In its final two years of operations, the Madera hospital lost $14 million.

Beehler said AAM would aim for “operational efficiency” through centralized administration and “elevate the quality of care” to attract more patients. “These strategic investments and improvements are designed to stabilize the hospital’s financial footing and ensure its sustainability in the long term,” he said.

According to a by the Pittsburgh-based Center for Healthcare Quality and Payment Reform, 30% of California’s 56 rural hospitals and the same percentage of rural hospitals nationwide are at risk of closing.

“The economics of small hospitals is such that it is unlikely they are going to be highly profitable,” said Harold Miller, the center’s CEO.

The group objecting to AAM, along with many members of the community, are particularly worried that the company won’t reopen the Madera hospital’s labor and delivery department, where over in 2022.

Labor and delivery at many rural hospitals are among the first services new owners cut because they tend to lose money, said Ge Bai, professor of health policy and management at Johns Hopkins University’s Bloomberg School of Public Health.

Beehler said a reopened Madera would provide “many of the ancillary services” related to pregnancy and that AAM would “regularly evaluate” whether it makes financial and clinical sense to have a labor and delivery unit at the hospital.

‘Someone Has to Take a Stand’

AAM is the brainchild of Gurpreet Singh Randhawa, who says he is its sole owner.

Singh, a gastroenterologist-turned-entrepreneur, has amassed hospitals and other health care-related companies, as well as numerous real estate holdings. dozens of businesses that are or have been associated with Singh.

After graduating from medical school in India in 2000, Singh completed further training in New York and New Jersey before moving to California in 2008. In an interview, Singh said he was inspired to open his first hospital after seeing a friend drive three hours round trip to the Sacramento area every day to visit his father in a long-term acute care hospital because Modesto didn’t have one of its own.

Singh said he thought “‘someone has to take a stand,’ so I took that stand.” He said he spent $36 million to at the site of a shuttered facility in Modesto. It opened in mid-2013, marking the beginning of AAM.

Since then, AAM has acquired numerous hospitals and clinics in Northern California and the Central Valley, including Colusa Medical Center and Glenn Medical Center in 2017, Sonoma Specialty Hospital in 2019, and Coalinga Regional Medical Center in 2020.

In 2023, the firm took over management of the troubled Orchard Hospital in Gridley, California. Last September, AAM announced it had taken over operations of Kentfield Specialty Hospital, with locations in San Francisco and Marin County. It also owns a rehabilitation hospital in Amarillo, Texas.

AAM lost a combined $22.3 million in 2021 and 2022, state data shows. But Beehler said the company returned to profitability in 2023 and expects profit margins in the high single digits this year. He estimated that AAM’s total operating revenue will jump to approximately $400 million in 2024 from $290 million in 2023, mainly due to the addition of three hospitals.

The source of the funds to finance the company’s growth is not entirely clear. Singh cited family wealth and real estate, but he declined to discuss his family’s money. The firm’s agreement with the Madera hospital says AAM will have “” to meet its obligations. The $57 million approved by the state this week will be a key source of funding.

Beehler said another source of cash to finance growth is AAM’s earnings on longer-term care. Central Valley Specialty Hospital has been profitable since its first full year of operations in 2014, posting cumulative earnings of over $66 million through 2022, according to data from the state’s Department of Health Care Access and Information. Coalinga Regional Medical Center has a 99-bed skilled nursing facility in addition to its acute care beds, and Sonoma Specialty Hospital recently added 21 beds, according to Beehler.

Acute vs. Long-Term Care

Critics fear AAM might take the Madera hospital in the direction of long-term care, depriving the community of a viable acute care facility. Cece Gallegos, who recently lost her bid for a seat on the Madera County Board of Supervisors, said in a campaign mailer that the firm would turn Madera into “a glorified nursing home.”

Beehler rebuffed that notion, saying the company couldn’t do that even if it wanted to. He said the conditions imposed by the state attorney general “require an acute care hospital with fully functional ER and ancillary services.” The , however, require AAM only to make “commercially reasonable efforts” to provide those services.

Singh and his health care businesses have hit plenty of bumps as they’ve grown.

In 2018, AAM took over management of Sonoma West Medical Center, a publicly owned hospital in the city of Sebastopol that had declared bankruptcy. In 2019, AAM acquired it outright and changed its name to Sonoma Specialty Hospital. Later that year, a bankruptcy trustee sued Singh, AAM, and the hospital for allegedly taking money that belonged to its predecessor, and the parties . Beehler said AAM did not retain any of the money but used it for hospital operations and became “an unintended victim.” The company chose to settle, he said, “to bring finality to this complex issue.”

In 2021, the state fined AAM’s Pacific Gardens Medical Center $276,000 for that put patients in “,” including one in which inadequate training caused an intravenous to drip into a patient nearly seven times as rapidly as the doctor had ordered.

AAM had reopened the hospital in January 2021, about three years after buying it out of bankruptcy. Its license was suspended less than five months later, according to the California Department of Public Health. Beehler said the hospital had reopened as a pandemic surge hospital with support, including the provision of nurses and physicians, from the state’s Emergency Medical Services Authority. “By its nature, a surge facility opening is temporary,” he said.

The accelerated timeline for getting it open contributed to the patient-jeopardy situations, he said.

In 2022, the California Department of Health Care Services sued , Singh, and AAM, accusing them of illegitimately seeking, and accepting, $270,000 from a program that provides federal financing for certain public hospitals.

DHCS said it had told AAM that it wasn’t eligible for the money, because it was now a for-profit facility, but that the company refused to pay it back. In February, a Sonoma County . DHCS spokesperson Leah Myers said in an emailed statement that the state does not typically have to sue to recover money. Beehler said AAM “disputes that there is any liability” and is appealing the decision.

Another Singh venture was Advanced College, a private vocational school for health care professionals with three locations in central and Southern California. After receiving numerous complaints, state regulators in December 2022, alleging it had falsified records and test results, and “failed to provide documentation of sufficient financial resources.”

Joshua Maruca, the school’s custodian of records, said Advanced College disagreed with the state’s allegations but had already been planning to shut down for other reasons, so it did not contest them.

Bank of the West and several of his businesses for repeated defaults on over $4.7 million in loans, mostly related to the college. The lawsuit was settled, but one of the bank’s lawyers, Wayne Terry, said he could not discuss the settlement. Beehler said the loans were not part of AAM’s financials. The bank was “paid fully,” he said.

The company’s critics say the state didn’t sufficiently scrutinize AAM before approving the loan and the operating plan this week.

“The state agencies and the Attorney General, all tasked here with protecting the public interest, have utterly failed to do the basic due diligence that would ensure Madera Community Hospital is resurrected as a viable going concern, under the stewardship of a reliable, trustworthy, and capable operator,” the MCCJ said in the court filing opposing the challenge to its objection.

AAM said in a statement that it was “grateful” to Newsom and the state for approving the deal, and “honored to serve the Madera community.” The bankruptcy court is likely to give its final blessing next week.

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Since a Feb. 21 cyberattack on a previously obscure medical payment processing company, Change Healthcare, Parsons said, she and her colleagues haven’t been able to electronically bill for their services.

She heard , California’s Medicare payment processor, was not accepting paper claims as of earlier this week, she said. And paper claims can take 3-6 months to result in payment anyway, she estimated.

“We will be in trouble in very short order, and are very stressed,” she said in an interview with Ģ��ӰԺ Health News.

A California Medical Association spokesperson said March 7 that the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services had agreed in a meeting to encourage payment processors like Noridian to accept paper claims. A Noridian spokesperson referred questions to CMS.

The American Hospital Association calls the suspected ransomware attack on Change Healthcare, a unit of insurance giant UnitedHealth Group’s Optum division, “the most significant and consequential incident of its kind against the U.S. health care system in history.” While doctors’ practices, hospital systems, and pharmacies struggle to find workarounds, the attack is exposing the health system’s broad vulnerability to hackers, as well as shortcomings in the Biden administration’s response.

To date, government has relied on more voluntary standards to protect the health care system’s networks, Beau Woods, a co-founder of the cyber advocacy group I Am The Cavalry, said. But “the purely optional, do-this-out-of-the-goodness-of-your-heart model clearly is not working,” he said. The federal government needs to devote greater funding, and more focus, to the problem, he said.

The crisis will take time to resolve. Comparing the Change attack to others against parts of the health care system, “we have seen it generally takes a minimum of 30 days to restore core systems,” said , the hospital association’s national adviser on cybersecurity.

In a March 7 statement, UnitedHealth Group said two services — related to electronic payments and medical claims — would be restored later in the month. “While we work to restore these systems, we strongly recommend our provider and payer clients use the applicable workarounds we have established,” the company said.

“We’re determined to make this right as fast as possible,” said company CEO Andrew Witty.

Providers and patients are meanwhile paying the price. Reports of people paying out-of-pocket to fill vital prescriptions have been common. Independent physician practices are particularly vulnerable.

“How can you pay staff, supplies, malpractice insurance — all this — without revenue?” said Stephen Sisselman, an independent primary care physician on Long Island in New York. “It’s impossible.”

Jackson Health System, in Miami-Dade County, Florida, may miss out on as much as $30 million in payments if the outage lasts a month, said , its chief revenue officer. Some insurers have offered to mail paper checks.

Relief programs announced by have been criticized by health providers, especially hospitals. Sisselman said Optum offered his practice, which he said has revenue of hundreds of thousands of dollars a month, a loan of $540 a week. Other providers and hospitals interviewed by Ģ��ӰԺ Health News said their offers from the insurer were similarly paltry.

In its March 7 statement, the company said it would offer new financing options to providers.

Providers Pressure Government to Act

On March 5, almost two weeks after Change first reported what it initially called a cybersecurity “issue,” the Health and Human Services Department announced several assistance programs for health providers.

One recommendation is for insurers to advance payments for Medicare claims — similar to a program that aided health systems early in the pandemic. But physicians and others are worried that would help only hospitals, not independent practices or providers.

, a lobbyist with the Medical Group Management Association, which represents physician practices, , formerly known as Twitter, that the government “must require its contractors to extend the availability of accelerated payments to physician practices in a similar manner to which they are being offered to hospitals.”

HHS spokesperson Jeff Nesbit said the administration “recognizes the impact” of the attack and is “actively looking at their authority to help support these critical providers at this time and working with states to do the same.” He said Medicare is pressing UnitedHealth Group to “offer better options for interim payments to providers.”

Another idea from the federal government is to encourage providers to switch vendors away from Change. Sisselman said he hoped to start submitting claims through a new vendor within 24 to 48 hours. But it’s not a practicable solution for everyone.

Torres said suggestions from UnitedHealth and regulators that providers change clearinghouses, file paper claims, or expedite payments are not helping.

“It’s highly unrealistic,” she said of the advice. “If you’ve got their claims processing tool, there’s nothing you can do.”

, president of the Florida Hospital Association, said her members have built up sophisticated systems reliant on Change Healthcare. Switching processes could take 90 days — during which they’ll be without cash flow, she said. “It’s not like flipping a switch.”

Nesbit acknowledged switching clearinghouses is difficult, “but the first priority should be resuming full claims flow,” he said. Medicare has directed its contractors and advised insurers to ease such changes, he added.

Health care leaders including state Medicaid directors have called on the Biden administration to treat the Change attack similarly to the pandemic — a threat to the health system so severe that it demands extraordinary flexibility on the part of government insurance programs and regulators.

Beyond the money matters — critical as they are — providers and others say they lack basic information about the attack. UnitedHealth Group and the American Hospital Association have held calls and published releases about the incident; nevertheless, many still feel they’re in the dark.

Riggi of the AHA wants more information from UnitedHealth Group. He said it’s reasonable for the conglomerate to keep some information closely held, for example if it’s not verified or to assist law enforcement. But hospitals would like to know how the breach was perpetrated so they can reinforce their own defenses.

“The sector is clamoring for more information, ultimately to protect their own organizations,” he said.

Rumors have proliferated.

“It gets a little rough: Any given day you’re going to have to pick and choose who to believe,” Saad Chaudhry, an executive at Maryland hospital system Luminis Health, told Ģ��ӰԺ Health News. “Do you believe these thieves? Do you believe the organization itself, that has everything riding on their public image, who have incentives to minimize this kind of thing?”

What Happens Next?

Wired Magazine reported that someone paid the ransomware gang believed to be behind the attack $22 million in bitcoin. If that was indeed a ransom intended to resolve some aspect of the breach, it’s a bonanza for hackers.

Cybersecurity experts say some hospitals that have suffered attacks have faced ransom demands for as little as $10,000 and as much as . A large payment to the Change hackers could incentivize more attacks.

“When there’s gold in the hills, there’s a gold rush,” said , another co-founder of I Am The Cavalry and a former federal cybersecurity official.

Longer-term, the attack intensifies questions about how the private companies that comprise the U.S. health system and the government that regulates them are defending against cyberthreats. Attacks have been common: Thieves and hackers, often believed to be sponsored or harbored by countries like Russia and North Korea, have knocked down systems in the United Kingdom’s National Health Service, pharma giants like Merck, and numerous hospitals.

The 249 ransomware attacks against health care and public health organizations in 2023, but Corman believes the number is higher.

But federal efforts to protect the health system are a patchwork, according to cybersecurity experts. While it’s not yet clear how Change was hacked, experts have warned a breach can occur through a phishing link in an email or more exotic pathways. That means regulators need to consider hardening all kinds of products.

One example of the slow-at-best efforts to mend these defenses concerns medical devices. Devices with outdated software could provide a pathway for hackers to get into a hospital network or simply degrade its functioning.

The FDA recently gained more authority to assess medical devices’ digital defenses and issue safety communications about them. But that doesn’t mean vulnerable machines will be removed from hospitals. Products often linger because they’re expensive to take out of service or replace.

Senator Mark Warner (D-Va.) has previously proposed a “Cash for Clunkers”-type program to pay hospitals to update the cybersecurity of their old medical devices, but it was “never seriously pursued,” Warner spokesperson Rachel Cohen said. Riggi said such a program might make sense, depending on how it’s implemented.

Weaknesses in the system are widespread and often don’t occur to policymakers immediately. Even something as prosaic as a heating and air conditioning system can, if connected to a hospital’s internet network, be hacked and allow the institution to be breached.

But erecting more defenses requires more people and resources — which often aren’t available. In 2017, Woods and Corman assisted on an surveying the digital readiness of the health care sector. As part of their research, they found a slice of wealthier hospitals had the information technology staff and resources to defend their systems — but the vast majority had no dedicated security staff. Corman calls them “target-rich but cyber-poor.”

“The desire is there. They understand the importance,” Riggi said. “The issue is the resources.”

HHS has proposed requiring minimum cyberdefenses for hospitals to participate in Medicare, a vital source of revenue for the entire industry. But Riggi says the AHA won’t support it.

“We oppose unfunded mandates and oppose the use of such a harsh penalty,” he said.

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Hasta el 1 de enero, 3 millones de personas en Medi-Cal, principalmente mayores, ciegas, discapacitadas, que reciben cuidados a largo plazo o que participan en el programa federal de Seguridad de Ingreso Suplementario (SSI), en el valor de sus cuentas financieras y propiedades que pudieran poseer para tener derecho a la cobertura. Ahora, casi 2 millones de personas ya no tendrán que hacer frente a estas restricciones, equiparándose a los aproximadamente 12 millones de otros beneficiarios que no tienen límites de activos.

Todavía deben estar por debajo del de Medi-Cal, que para la mayoría de los afiliados es actualmente de $1,677 al mes para un adulto soltero y $3,450 para una familia de cuatro. Sin embargo, el cambio eliminará mucho papeleo para los solicitantes y los funcionarios del condado que verifican su elegibilidad.

Durante mucho tiempo, este grupo de beneficiarios de Medi-Cal no podía tener más de $2,000 en el banco —$3,000 para un matrimonio—, aunque la vivienda en la que vivían, así como un vehículo y otros tipos de bienes personales, estaban exentos.

“Si tenías $5,000 en activos, tenías que gastar $3,000 en lo que fuera para demostrar que estabas por debajo del límite y poder optar a la ayuda”, explicó Tiffany Huyenh-Cho, abogada de la organización Justice in Aging. “Teníamos gente que pagaba el alquiler por adelantado, gastaba dinero en reparaciones del coche, compraba un sofá nuevo o electrodomésticos… todo para reducir sus activos con el fin de llegar al límite de $2,000”.

Ahora, agregó Huyenh-Cho, “no tienes por qué seguir sumido en la pobreza. Puedes ahorrar para una emergencia; puedes ahorrar para la jubilación o para un depósito de seguridad si quieres mudarte”.

Y los que tienen la esperanza de dejarles algo a sus hijos cuando fallezcan, ahora pueden hacerlo, aunque necesiten costosa atención de largo plazo.

La primera fase del cambio de la norma se implementó en julio de 2022, cuando el umbral a $130,000 para un individuo y $195,000 para un hogar de dos personas, cantidades en las que no entran la gran mayoría de los interesados. Porque la mayoría de las personas con ingresos lo suficientemente bajos como para tener derecho a Medi-Cal nunca tendrían esa cantidad ahorrada. Por este motivo, se espera que la eliminación total de la denominada prueba de activos, introducida este año, ayude económicamente a menos personas de lo que hizo el primer cambio.

Aún así, hay algunas personas con más de $130,000 en el banco cuyos ahorros se habrían esfumado en un tiempo sorprendentemente corto si hubieran necesitado atención de largo plazo en un centro de asistencia o en casa. Ahora pueden calificar para que Medi-Cal se haga cargo de esos gastos.

Joanne Shinozaki, residente en Granada Hills, un barrio de Los Angeles, contrató el año pasado un cuidador privado a tiempo completo para su madre, Fujiko, que padece demencia. Pero costaba casi $11,000 al mes, y Shinozaki no tardó en darse cuenta de que gastaría rápidamente los $200,000 de ahorros que su padre le había dejado al morir a principios del año pasado. A regañadientes, ingresó a su madre en una residencia de adultos mayores, que era más barata. Pero tras un aumento del 10% en enero, ahora le cuesta $9,000 al mes, aunque eso incluye la comida y los servicios.

Debido al dinero que dejó el padre de Shinozaki, su madre no tenía derecho a Medi-Cal según las antiguas normas. Pero ahora, ese dinero ya no cuenta en su contra. Shinozaki, veterinaria que dejó su trabajo para coordinar la atención de su madre, tiene que volver a trabajar pronto. Ha solicitado Medi-Cal para su madre y está esperando que se lo aprueben.

“Significaría poder traerla de regreso al hogar en el que ha vivido desde 1988, si se encuentra bien para volver a casa”, dijo Shinozaki. Para ello, tendrá que conseguir que su madre tenga acceso a cuidadores a través del programa de Servicios de Apoyo en el Hogar (IHSS) de Medi-Cal.

De hecho, otro beneficio del cambio en las normas de elegibilidad es que apoya la economía de los cuidadores, según Kim Selfon, especialista en Medi-Cal y en la política de IHSS en Bet Tzedek Legal Services, que proporciona asistencia jurídica gratuita a las personas en el condado de Los Angeles.

Los activistas que trabajan con los beneficiarios y solicitantes de Medi-Cal dicen que a menudo tienen que explicar la diferencia entre activos e ingresos. “Creo que mucha gente está confundida”, señaló Stephanie Fajuri, directora en el Center for Health Care Rights, una organización sin fines de lucro con sede en Los Angeles que ayuda a las personas a navegar Medi-Cal y Medicare. “Nos preguntan: ‘¿Qué quieres decir? ¿Podría ganar un millón de dólares al año? Y nosotros les decimos: ‘No, eso son ingresos'”.

Así que, seamos claros: bajo las nuevas reglas, sí, puedes ser propietario de una segunda casa. Pero si la alquilas, eso son ingresos y, dado los precios actuales de los alquileres, es probable que no puedas recibir todas las prestaciones de Medi-Cal. También puedes mantener una cuenta de inversión independientemente del saldo, pero las distribuciones de la misma, así como los intereses, dividendos y plusvalías que genere también son ingresos.

Pero hay que recalcar que es poco probable que la mayoría de los beneficiarios dispongan de un gran patrimonio y todavía tengan ingresos lo suficientemente bajos como para calificar para Medi-Cal. Pero si de repente heredan una suma modesta, o incluso grande, ahora pueden conservarla, aunque puede afectar brevemente su cobertura.

Lamentablemente, los 1,1 millones de beneficiarios de Medi-Cal que reciben Seguridad de Ingreso Suplementario siguen sujetos a una prueba de patrimonio, porque se les aplican normas diferentes.

Los activistas y abogados dicen que no ha habido suficiente educación pública sobre la eliminación de los límites de activos, y que muchas personas todavía creen que sus cuentas bancarias o bienes personales los excluyen.

También hay quien puede temer que el estado se quede con su casa y otros bienes después de su muerte para recuperar lo que se gastó en su cuidado. Esa preocupación podría intensificarse ahora que las personas pueden conservar todos sus bienes y seguir recibiendo Medi-Cal. Pero un cambio en limitó la capacidad del estado para reclamar una casa u otros activos después del fallecimiento de una persona e hizo relativamente fácil protegerlos.

El estado sólo puede reclamar hasta el total que Medi-Cal gastó en , incluidos los cuidados intermedios y de largo plazo, y gastos relacionados. Incluso en esos casos, no puede tocar tu casa ni ningún otro bien si lo has protegido mediante un fideicomiso testamentario u otra medida legal que lo mantenga fuera del tribunal testamentario. Y el estado no puede reclamarla si hay un copropietario que sobrevive al beneficiario de Medi-Cal.

“Ahora que las personas pueden disponer de bienes ilimitados, deben ser más conscientes de la necesidad de protegerlos en caso de que necesiten cuidados de largo plazo”, afirmó Dina Dimirjian, abogada de Neighborhood Legal Services en el condado de Los Angeles.

El Departamento de Servicios de Salud, que supervisa Medi-Cal, ha publicado en su sitio web () una sección de preguntas frecuentes sobre la eliminación de la prueba de activos. Otra buena fuente de información y asistencia jurídica es la Health Consumer Alliance ( o 888-804-3536).

El fin de la prueba de activos también aliviará un gran dolor de cabeza burocrático para beneficiarios y solicitantes, y liberará incontables horas para los funcionarios de elegibilidad de Medi-Cal en las oficinas del condado.

“Las personas tenían que navegar por todo esto y averiguar lo que cuenta y lo que no cuenta, y tenían que demostrarlo, y el condado luego debía verificarlo”, explicó David Kane, abogado en el Western Center on Law & Poverty. “Es bueno que podamos librarnos de todo esto”.

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Until Jan. 1, 3 million Medi-Cal beneficiaries, mainly those who are aged, blind, disabled, in long-term care, or in the federal Supplemental Security Income program, on the value of financial accounts and personal property they could hold to qualify for coverage. Now, nearly 2 million of them will no longer face these restrictions, putting them on par with the roughly 12 million other Medi-Cal beneficiaries who don’t have asset limits.

They still must be below Medi-Cal’s , which for most enrollees is currently $1,677 a month for a single adult and $3,450 for a family of four. However, the change will eliminate a lot of paperwork for applicants and the county workers who verify their eligibility.

For a long time, this group of Medi-Cal beneficiaries could have no more than $2,000 in the bank — $3,000 for a married couple — though the home they lived in, as well as one car and certain types of other personal property, were exempt.

“If you had $5,000 in assets, you would have to spend $3,000 on something to prove that you were beneath the limit to qualify,” says Tiffany Huyenh-Cho, a senior attorney at the advocacy group Justice in Aging. “We had people who prepaid rent, spent money on car repairs, bought a new couch or appliances — things to reduce their assets in order to get to the $2,000 limit.”

Now, Huyenh-Cho adds, “you don’t have to remain in deep poverty. You can save for an emergency; you can save for retirement or for a security deposit if you want to move.”

And those who have hoped to leave a little something for their children when they die can now do so, even if they need expensive long-term care.

The first phase of the rule change was implemented in July 2022, when the threshold was to $130,000 for an individual and $195,000 for a two-person household, making it a nonfactor for the vast majority of those concerned. After all, most people with incomes low enough to qualify for Medi-Cal would not have that much saved. For this reason, the total elimination of the so-called asset test ushered in this year is expected to help fewer people financially than the first change did.

Still, there are some people with more than $130,000 in the bank whose savings would have been wiped out in shockingly short order had they needed long-term care in a nursing facility or at home. Now, they can qualify to have Medi-Cal pick up that cost.

Joanne Shinozaki, a resident of Granada Hills, a Los Angeles neighborhood, hired private full-time caregiving last year for her mother, Fujiko, who has dementia. But it cost nearly $11,000 a month, which Shinozaki quickly realized would burn fast through the roughly $200,000 in savings her father had left when he died early last year. Reluctantly, she put her mom in a memory care home, which was less expensive. But after a 10% increase in January, it is now costing $9,000 a month, although that includes food and utilities.

Because of the money Shinozaki’s dad left, her mom did not qualify for Medi-Cal under the old rules. But now, that money no longer counts against her. Shinozaki, a veterinarian who quit her job to coordinate her mother’s care, needs to return to work soon. She has applied for Medi-Cal for her mom and is waiting for it to be approved.

“It would mean being able to bring her back to the house where she’s lived since 1988, if she’s well enough to come home,” Shinozaki says. To do that, she will need to get her mom access to caregivers via Medi-Cal’s In-Home Supportive Services program.

Indeed, another benefit of the change in eligibility rules is that it supports the caregiver economy, says Kim Selfon, a Medi-Cal and IHSS policy specialist at Bet Tzedek Legal Services, which provides free legal assistance to people in LA County.

Advocates who work with Medi-Cal enrollees and applicants say they often have to explain the difference between assets and income. “I think a lot of people are confused,” says Stephanie Fajuri, program director at the Center for Health Care Rights, an LA-based nonprofit that helps people navigate Medi-Cal and Medicare. “They say, ‘What do you mean? I could be making $1 million a year?’ And we say, ‘No, that’s income.’”

So, let’s be clear: Under the new rules, yes, you can have a second house. But if you are renting it out, that’s income — and given today’s rental prices, it will likely disqualify you from full Medi-Cal benefits. You can also keep an investment account regardless of the balance, but distributions from it as well as any interest, dividends, and capital gains it generates are also income.

Again, most beneficiaries are unlikely to have a large pool of assets and still have income low enough to qualify for Medi-Cal. But if you suddenly inherit a modest sum, or even a large one, now you can keep it, though it may briefly affect your coverage.

Unfortunately, the 1.1 million Medi-Cal beneficiaries receiving Supplemental Security Income are still subject to an asset test, because different rules apply to them.

Advocates and legal aid attorneys say there hasn’t been enough public education about the elimination of the asset limits and that many people still believe their bank accounts or personal property rule them out.

People may also fear the state will take their house and other assets after they die to recoup what it spent on their care. That worry could intensify now that people can keep all their assets and still be on Medi-Cal. But a restricted the state’s ability to put a claim on your house or other assets after you die and made it relatively easy to insulate them entirely.

The state can claim only up to the amount Medi-Cal spent on , including long-term and intermediate care and related costs. Even in those cases, it cannot touch your home or any other asset if you have protected it by putting it in a living trust or through some other legal move that keeps it out of probate court. And the state can’t put a claim on it if there is a co-owner who outlives the Medi-Cal beneficiary.

“Now that people can hold unlimited assets, they need to be more cognizant of protecting them should they need long-term care,” says Dina Dimirjian, a staff attorney at Neighborhood Legal Services of Los Angeles County.

The Department of Health Care Services, which oversees Medi-Cal, has published on its website () on the elimination of the asset test. Another good source of information, and legal assistance, is the Health Consumer Alliance ( or 888-804-3536).

The end of the asset test will also cure a big bureaucratic headache for beneficiaries and applicants and free up countless hours for Medi-Cal eligibility workers in county offices.

“People had to navigate this and figure out what counts and what doesn’t count, and they had to prove it, and the county had to verify it,” says David Kane, a senior attorney at the Western Center on Law & Poverty. “It’s a good thing we can say goodbye to it.”

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A comienzos de 2015, sufrió una serie de problemas personales, entre ellos un estremecedor trauma familiar, conflictos matrimoniales y un importante revés profesional.

Al principio, la valentía y la determinación la mantuvieron en pie, pero luego fue incapaz de controlar sus problemas y se refugió en el alcohol. A finales de 2020, Morrow apenas podía levantarse de la cama: no se duchó ni cepilló los dientes por semanas. Llegó a beber dos botellas de vino al día, alternándolas con whisky.

Sentada en el living de su bella casa una reciente tarde de otoño, con un brillante vestido lavanda, labial del mismo tono y un collar de perlas, Morrow trazó la ruta de su rendición ante el alcohol: “No voy a beber antes de las 5 de la tarde. No voy a beber cuando los niños están en casa. Y luego, eran las 10, las 9 de la mañana, era levantarme y beber”.

Mientras la adicción y las muertes por sobredosis acaparan titulares en todo el país, la Junta Médica de California, que otorga licencias médicas, para tratar y monitorear a los médicos con problemas de alcohol y drogas. Pero hay una división, sobre si los nombres de los que se unen al nuevo programa sin que se lo ordene la junta deben divulgarse.

Los defensores de los pacientes señalan que la de la junta médica es “proteger a quienes reciben asistencia y evitar daños”, lo que, según ellos, es m’as importante que la privacidad de los médicos.

Los nombres de aquellos a los que la junta exige someterse a tratamiento y seguimiento por una orden disciplinaria ya se hacen públicos. Pero expertos en adicción dicen que si el estado quiere que los médicos con problemas se presenten sin una orden de la junta, la confidencialidad es crucial.

Hacerlo público sería “un poderoso elemento disuasorio para que cualquiera busque ayuda” e impediría la intervención precoz, que es clave para evitar un deterioro en el trabajo que podría perjudicar a los pacientes, según Scott Hambleton, presidente de la Federación de Programas Estatales de Salud Médica. Sus miembros principales ayudan a organizar la atención y el seguimiento de los médicos con adicciones y afecciones de salud mental como alternativa a las medidas disciplinarias.

Pero defensores de los consumidores sostienen que los pacientes tienen derecho a saber si su médico sufre una adicción. “Se supone que los médicos deben hablar con sus pacientes de todos los riesgos y beneficios de cualquier tratamiento o procedimiento, pero ¿se espera que el riesgo de un médico adicto permanezca en secreto?”, dijo a la junta médica Marian Hollingsworth, defensora voluntaria de la Red de Acción para la Seguridad del Paciente, en una audiencia el 14 de noviembre sobre el nuevo programa.

Los médicos son tan vulnerables a la adicción como cualquier otra persona. Quienes trabajan en su rehabilitación dicen que la tasa de estos trastornos es al menos tan alta como la del público en general, lo que la Administración Federal de Servicios de Salud Mental y Abuso de Sustancias situó en el 17,3% en un.

El alcohol es una droga muy común entre los médicos, pero su fácil acceso a los analgésicos es también un riesgo particular.

“Si tienes un trastorno por consumo de opioides y trabajas en un quirófano con medicamentos como el fentanilo, es un reto y puede ser un desencadenante”, afirmó Chwen-Yuen Angie Chen, doctora especialista en adicciones que preside el Comité de Bienestar de Médicos y Médicos en Formación de Stanford Health Care. “Es como si alguien con un trastorno de alcoholismo trabajara en un bar”.

De pionero a rezagado

California supo estar a la vanguardia del tratamiento y la supervisión de los médicos. En 1981, la junta médica puso en marcha un programa de evaluación, tratamiento y seguimiento de médicos con afecciones mentales o adicciones. A menudo se exigía a los participantes que se hicieran pruebas de drogas aleatorias, asistieran a varias reuniones de grupo a la semana, se sometieran a la vigilancia de sus colegas en el trabajo y permanecieran en el programa durante al menos cinco años.

Los médicos que se inscribían voluntariamente en el programa solían gozar de confidencialidad, pero los que recibían una orden de la junta como parte de una medida disciplinaria quedaban en el registro público.

El programa se canceló en 2008 después de que varias auditorías detectaran graves deficiencias. , llevada a cabo por Julianne D’Angelo Fellmeth, abogada de consumidores que fue elegida como supervisora externa de la junta, descubrió que los médicos que participaban en el programa a menudo podían eludir las pruebas aleatorias de detección de drogas, que la asistencia a las sesiones obligatorias de terapia de grupo no se controlaba con precisión y que los participantes no eran supervisados de manera adecuada en los trabajos.

Hoy en día, los médicos con adicciones que quieren ayuda pueden buscar tratamiento privado por su cuenta o, en muchos casos, son remitidos por hospitales y otras empresas sanitarias a terceros, que organizan el tratamiento y la vigilancia. La junta médica puede ordenar a un médico en período de prueba que se someta a tratamiento.

En cambio, las juntas de California que otorgan licencias de otras ocho profesiones relacionadas con la salud, incluidos médicos osteópatas, enfermeros, dentistas y farmacéuticos, tienen programas de tratamiento y supervisión administrados en virtud de un contrato marco por una empresa que cotiza en bolsa llamada. California pagó a Maximus alrededor de $1,6 millones el pasado año fiscal para administrar esos programas.

Cuando se apruebe la normativa definitiva de la junta médica, el siguiente paso sería que la junta abriera una licitación para encontrar un administrador del programa.

Caída en desgracia

Los problemas de Morrow empezaron mucho después de que se cerrara el programa original de California.

Hija de un destacado cirujano plástico, Morrow creció en Palm Springs en circunstancias que ella describe como “más que privilegiadas”. Su padre, David Morrow, se convirtió más tarde en su mentor de confianza.

Pero su encantadora vida comenzó a desmoronarse en 2015, cuando su padre y su madre, Linda Morrow, de fraude federal de seguros en un caso muy publicitado. En 2017, la pareja huyó a Israel en un intento de escapar del proceso penal, pero más tarde fueron a Estados Unidos para enfrentar condenas de prisión.

Los problemas legales de los padres de Morrow, agravados más tarde por problemas conyugales relacionados con el fracaso del negocio de su esposo, pasaron una dura factura a Morrow. Tenía poco más de 30 años cuando empezaron los problemas con sus padres, y trabajaba jornadas de 16 horas para construir una consulta médica privada, con dos niños pequeños en casa.

A finales de 2019, estaba muy deprimida y recurría cada vez más al alcohol. Después, la pérdida de sus privilegios de admisión en un gran hospital de Los Ángeles por no llevar un registro médico adecuado destrozó lo que le quedaba de confianza en sí misma.

Reflexionando sobre su experiencia, Morrow dijo que las mismas fuerzas que impulsan a los médicos a estudiar medicina y desarrollar sus carreras pueden fomentar un sentimiento de negación. “Somos tan fuertes que nuestra fuerza es nuestra mayor amenaza. Nuestro poder es nuestra impotencia”, afirmó. Morrow ignoró todas las alertas que indicaban que había serios problemas: “Pasé de todo y caí al precipicio”.

A finales de 2020, sin trabajo, postrada en cama por la depresión y bebiendo en exceso, se dio cuenta de que ya no podía salir adelante: “Por fin le dije a mi marido: ‘Necesito ayuda’. Y él me respondió: ‘Sé que la necesitas'”.

Al final, se internó en un centro privado de tratamiento residencial en Texas. Ahora, 21 meses sobria, Morrow afirmó que la privacidad del tratamiento contra la adicción que eligió fue valiosísima porque la protegió del escrutinio profesional.

“No tenía que sentirme desnuda ni juzgada”, indicó.

Agregó que sería reacia a participar en un programa estatal como el que está considerando la junta médica, por su preocupación sobre la privacidad.

Privacidad del médico vs protección del paciente

La normativa propuesta eximiría a los médicos a hacer público su caso, si están en el programa no por medidas disciplinarias sino voluntariamente. Esto siempre y cuando

se mantuvieran sobrios y cumplieran todos los requisitos: pruebas de drogas aleatorias, asistencia a sesiones de grupo y supervisión en el lugar de trabajo.

Si el programa impusiera una restricción a la licencia de un médico, se publicaría en la página web de la junta médica, pero sin mencionar su participación en el programa.

Pero incluso eso podría comprometer la carrera de un médico, ya que “tener una licencia restringida por razones no especificadas tendría muchas implicaciones personales y profesionales duraderas, ninguna positiva”, afirmó Tracy Zemansky, psicóloga clínica y presidenta de la división del sur de California de , que ofrece apoyo y seguimiento a los médicos.

Zemansky y otros afirman que los médicos, como cualquier otra persona, tienen derecho a la privacidad médica en virtud de la , siempre que no hayan causado daños.

Muchos de los que trabajan en medicina de la adicción también criticaron el nuevo programa propuesto por no incluir los problemas de salud mental, que a menudo van de la mano con la adicción y están cubiertos por los programas de salud de los médicos en otros estados.

“Creo que renunciar a un tratamiento de salud mental es un grave error”, dijo Morrow. Para ella, la depresión y el alcoholismo eran inseparables, y el programa residencial al que asistió trató ambos.

Otro punto de conflicto es el dinero. Según la propuesta actual, los médicos correrían con todos los gastos del programa.

La evaluación clínica inicial, más las pruebas de drogas aleatorias periódicas, las sesiones de grupo y el seguimiento en sus lugares de trabajo podrían costar a los participantes más de $27,000 al año promedio, según por la junta médica. Y si tuvieran que someterse a un tratamiento hospitalario de 30 días, eso agregaría otros $40,000, además de casi $36,000 en pérdida de salarios.

Quienes trabajan en adicciones creen que es una carga injusta. Señalan que la mayoría de los programas para médicos de otros estados cuentan con financiación externa para reducir el costo para los participantes.

“El costo no debería recaer totalmente en los médicos, porque hay muchas otras personas que se benefician de ello, como la junta, las aseguradoras de negligencia, los hospitales y la asociación médica”, afirmó Greg Skipper, médico especialista en adicciones semi-retirado que dirigió el programa estatal de salud médica de Alabama durante 12 años. En Alabama, dijo, esas instituciones contribuyen al programa, lo que reduce significativamente la cantidad que los médicos tienen que pagar.

El programa de tratamiento al que asistió Morrow en la primavera de 2021, en The Menninger Clinic de Houston, costó $80,000 por una estancia de seis semanas, que cubrió un familiar preocupado. “Me salvó la vida”, dijo.

Aunque Morrow tuvo dificultades para mantener la sobriedad durante el primer año luego del tratamiento, ahora lleva sobria desde el 2 de abril de 2022. En la actualidad, asiste regularmente a terapia y a Alcohólicos Anónimos, y ha dado un giro en su carrera para convertirse en médico especialista en adicciones.

“Sin duda, hoy soy mejor doctora gracias a mi experiencia”, indicó Morrow. “Estoy orgullosa de ser una doctora alcohólica en recuperación”.

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Beginning in 2015, she suffered a string of personal troubles, including a shattering family trauma, marital strife, and a major professional setback. At first, sheer grit and determination kept her going, but eventually she was unable to keep her troubles at bay and took refuge in heavy drinking. By late 2020, Morrow could barely get out of bed and didn’t shower or brush her teeth for weeks on end. She was up to two bottles of wine a day, alternating it with Scotch whisky.

Sitting in her well-appointed home on a recent autumn afternoon, adorned in a bright lavender dress, matching lipstick, and a large pearl necklace, Morrow traced the arc of her surrender to alcohol: “I’m not going to drink before 5 p.m. I’m not going to drink before 2. I’m not going to drink while the kids are home. And then, it was 10 o’clock, 9 o’clock, wake up and drink.”

As addiction and overdose deaths command headlines across the nation, the Medical Board of California, which licenses MDs, is to treat and monitor doctors with alcohol and drug problems. But a fault line has appeared over whether those who join the new program without being ordered to by the board should be subject to public disclosure.

Patient advocates note that the medical board’s is “to protect healthcare consumers and prevent harm,” which they say trumps physician privacy.

The names of those required by the board to undergo treatment and monitoring under a disciplinary order are already made public. But addiction medicine professionals say that if the state wants troubled doctors to come forward without a board order, confidentiality is crucial.

Public disclosure would be “a powerful disincentive for anybody to get help” and would impede early intervention, which is key to avoiding impairment on the job that could harm patients, said Scott Hambleton, president of the Federation of State Physician Health Programs, whose core members help arrange care and monitoring of doctors for substance use disorders and mental health conditions as an alternative to discipline.

But consumer advocates argue that patients have a right to know if their doctor has an addiction. “Doctors are supposed to talk to their patients about all the risks and benefits of any treatment or procedure, yet the risk of an addicted doctor is expected to remain a secret?” Marian Hollingsworth, a volunteer advocate with the Patient Safety Action Network, told the medical board at a Nov. 14 hearing on the new program.

Doctors are as vulnerable to addiction as anyone else. People who work to help rehabilitate physicians say the rate of substance use disorders among them is at least as high as the rate for the general public, which the federal Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration put at 17.3% in a .

Alcohol is a very common drug of choice among doctors, but their ready access to pain meds is also a particular risk.

“If you have an opioid use disorder and are working in an operating room with medications like fentanyl staring you down, it’s a challenge and can be a trigger,” said Chwen-Yuen Angie Chen, an addiction medicine doctor who chairs the Well-Being of Physicians and Physicians-in-Training Committee at Stanford Health Care. “It’s like someone with an alcohol use disorder working at a bar.”

From Pioneer to Lagger

California was once at the forefront of physician treatment and monitoring. In 1981, the medical board launched a program for the evaluation, treatment, and monitoring of physicians with mental illness or substance use problems. Participants were often required to take random drug tests, attend multiple group meetings a week, submit to work-site surveillance by colleagues, and stay in the program for at least five years. Doctors who voluntarily entered the program generally enjoyed confidentiality, but those ordered into it by the board as part of a disciplinary action were on the public record.

The program was terminated in 2008 after several audits found serious flaws. , conducted by Julianne D’Angelo Fellmeth, a consumer interest lawyer who was chosen as an outside monitor for the board, found that doctors in the program were often able to evade the random drug tests, attendance at mandatory group therapy sessions was not accurately tracked, and participants were not properly monitored at work sites.

Today, MDs who want help with addiction can seek private treatment on their own or in many cases are referred by hospitals and other health care employers to third parties that organize treatment and surveillance. The medical board can order a doctor on probation to get treatment.

In contrast, the California licensing boards of eight other health-related professions, including osteopathic physicians, registered nurses, dentists, and pharmacists, have treatment and monitoring programs administered under one master contract by a publicly traded company called . California paid Maximus about $1.6 million last fiscal year to administer those programs.

When and if the final medical board regulations are adopted, the next step would be for the board to open bidding to find a program administrator.

Fall From Grace

Morrow’s troubles started long after the original California program had been shut down.

The daughter of a prominent cosmetic surgeon, Morrow grew up in Palm Springs in circumstances she describes as “beyond privileged.” Her father, David Morrow, later became her most trusted mentor.

But her charmed life began to fall apart in 2015, when her father and mother, Linda Morrow, on federal insurance fraud charges in a well-publicized case. In 2017, the couple fled to Israel in an attempt to escape criminal prosecution, but later they were both to the United States to face prison sentences.

The legal woes of Morrow’s parents, later compounded by marital problems related to the failure of her husband’s business, took a heavy toll on Morrow. She was in her early 30s when the trouble with her parents started, and she was working 16-hour days to build a private medical practice, with two small children at home. By the end of 2019, she was severely depressed and turning increasingly to alcohol. Then, the loss of her admitting privileges at a large Los Angeles hospital due to inadequate medical record-keeping shattered what remained of her self-confidence.

Morrow, reflecting on her experience, said the very strengths that propel doctors through medical school and keep them going in their careers can foster a sense of denial. “We are so strong that our strength is our greatest threat. Our power is our powerlessness,” she said. Morrow ignored all the flashing yellow lights and even the red light beyond which serious trouble lay: “I blew through all of it, and I fell off the cliff.”

By late 2020, no longer working, bedridden by depression, and drinking to excess, she realized she could no longer will her way through: “I finally said to my husband, ‘I need help.’ He said, ‘I know you do.’”

Ultimately, she packed herself off to a private residential treatment center in Texas. Now sober for 21 months, Morrow said the privacy of the addiction treatment she chose was invaluable because it shielded her from professional scrutiny.

“I didn’t have to feel naked and judged,” she said.

Morrow said her privacy concerns would make her reluctant to join a state program like the one being considered by the medical board.

Physician Privacy vs. Patient Protection

The proposed regulations would spare doctors in the program who were not under board discipline from public disclosure as long as they stayed sober and complied with all the requirements, generally including random drug tests, attendance at group sessions, and work-site monitoring. If the program put a restriction on a doctor’s medical license, it would be posted on the medical board’s website, but without mentioning the doctor’s participation in the program.

Yet even that might compromise a doctor’s career since “having a restricted license for unspecified reasons could have many enduring personal and professional implications, none positive,” said Tracy Zemansky, a clinical psychologist and president of the Southern California division of , which provides support and monitoring for physicians.

Zemansky and others say doctors, just like anyone else, are entitled to medical privacy under , as long as they haven’t caused harm.

Many who work in addiction medicine also criticized the proposed new program for not including mental health problems, which often go hand in hand with addiction and are covered by physician health programs in other states.

“To forgo mental health treatment, I think, is a grave mistake,” Morrow said. For her, depression and alcoholism were inseparable, and the residential program she attended treated her for both.

Another point of contention is money. Under the current proposal, doctors would bear all the costs of the program.

The initial clinical evaluation, plus the regular random drug tests, group sessions, and monitoring at their work sites could cost participants over $27,000 a year on average, according to by the medical board. And if they were required to go for 30-day inpatient treatment, that would add an additional $40,000 — plus nearly $36,000 in lost wages.

People who work in the field of addiction medicine believe that is an unfair burden. They note that most programs for physicians in other states have outside funding to reduce the cost to participants.

“The cost should not be fully borne by the doctors, because there are many other people that are benefiting from this, including the board, malpractice insurers, hospitals, the medical association,” said Greg Skipper, a semi-retired addiction medicine doctor who ran Alabama’s state physician health program for 12 years. In Alabama, he said, those institutions contribute to the program, significantly cutting the amount doctors have to pay.

The treatment program that Morrow attended in spring of 2021, at The Menninger Clinic in Houston, cost $80,000 for a six-week stay, which was covered by a concerned family member. “It saved my life,” she said.

Though Morrow had difficulty maintaining her sobriety in the first year after treatment, she has now been sober since April 2, 2022. These days, Morrow regularly attends therapy and Alcoholics Anonymous and has pivoted to become an addiction medicine doctor.

“I am a better doctor today because of my experience — no question,” Morrow said. “I am proud to be a doctor who’s an alcoholic in recovery.”

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Starting Jan. 1, Medi-Cal, California’s Medicaid program, will implement new standardized contracts with its , which collectively of enrollees. The new contracts tighten enforcement of quality measures, especially for women and children; require the health plans to report publicly on the performance of medical providers ― and in some cases other insurers ― to whom they delegate care; and mandate that plans reveal the number of enrollees who don’t have access to primary care and invest more to plug the gap. They also commit plans to better integration of physical and mental health care and greater responsiveness to the cultural and linguistic needs, sexual orientation, and gender identity of members.

To realize these promises, state regulators will have to be tougher than they have been in the past.

But that might be difficult, because the changes are happening at the same time as a number of other initiatives that could compete for staff attention and confuse some enrollees.

Beginning next year, over 700,000 immigrants without permanent legal residency will become eligible for full Medi-Cal coverage. In addition, an estimated in 21 counties will need to change health plans after the state last year rejiggered the constellation of insurers and multiple counties switched the way they deliver Medi-Cal. Some counties will have only one plan left. Where there is more than one, enrollees who are losing their plan will have to choose a new one.

Kaiser Permanente, the Oakland-based managed care giant, will start a new direct contract with the state in 32 counties, largely an administrative shift that should not disrupt care for most enrollees. And thousands of Medi-Cal enrollees in residential care will be switched into managed care plans for the first time, as the state accelerates its move away from .

All of this is happening amid the so-called unwinding, in which people have been shed from Medi-Cal thus far, and disenrollments are expected to continue until next summer. The unwinding follows the termination of pandemic-era protections.

“My head is spinning thinking about all of that going on at the same time,” says John Baackes, CEO of L.A. Care Health Plan, the state’s largest Medi-Cal plan, with nearly 2.6 million members. “Our call center is stacked to the gills.”

Tony Cava, spokesperson for the Department of Health Care Services, which oversees Medi-Cal, says the new contracts, signed by all the Medi-Cal managed care plans, will provide for “quality, equitable, and comprehensive coverage,” emphasizing prevention and “offering services that address long-term care needs throughout a member’s life.”

And in a groundbreaking move, the new contracts also require health plans for the first time to reinvest a portion of their profits ― between 5% and 7.5% ― in the communities where they operate.

They also provide a number of carrots and sticks, which include withholding a small percentage of payments to health plans with a chance for them to earn it back by reaching quality and health equity benchmarks. And profitable health plans that don’t meet expectations will have to reinvest an additional 7.5% of their profits in the community. This is all on top of that regulators can levy on poorly performing health plans.

The new Medi-Cal contracts also enshrine , a $12 billion, five-year experiment, already underway, in which health plans aim to provide for the neediest Medi-Cal members, including housing assistance and medically tailored meals, on the grounds that poverty and related social inequities are often the root of health problems. So far, however, the rollout has been slow.

Abbi Coursolle, senior attorney in the Los Angeles office of the National Health Law Program, says the requirement for health plans to report publicly on the care provided by their subcontracted medical providers should increase accountability, helping enrollees better navigate Medi-Cal.

“This is a step forward that advocates have been paying attention to for over a decade,” Coursolle says. “There’s so much ping-ponging people back and forth between the health plan and the provider group. That dilutes accountability so much.”

Another big change for Medi-Cal is the elimination of the so-called asset limit test for a certain subset of enrollees, including people who are aged, blind, disabled, in long-term care, or on Medicare. In addition to meeting income requirements, people have had to keep the total value of their personal assets below certain thresholds to qualify for Medi-Cal. The assets that are counted include savings, certain investments, second homes, and even second cars.

Until last year, those limits were so low ― $2,000 for an individual ― that people had virtually no ability to accumulate savings if they wanted to be on Medi-Cal. In mid-2022, however, the limit was raised to $130,000, which meant that for the majority of people subject to the test, assets were no longer a barrier to eligibility. In 2024, the asset test will be eliminated altogether.

But given last year’s change, the total elimination will likely generate only a few thousand new Medi-Cal enrollees. Still, it should save people the bureaucratic headache of having to prove they’re below a certain asset threshold.

If you want to learn more about the asset limit test, the DHCS has on the subject on its website ().

If you wonder whether you are among the 1.2 million Medi-Cal members who need to change health plans, and you haven’t already received communication on the subject, the department has an to tell you the plans that will be available in your county as of Jan. 1.

Nearly half the people who need to switch plans are Health Net members in Los Angeles County who are being transferred to Molina Healthcare as part of a compromise agreement the state struck last year to avoid becoming mired in lawsuits by angry health plans that lost out in a bidding competition.

If you need to change plans and you’re lucky, your doctors may be in the new plan. Make sure to check. If they are not, you may be able keep them for up to a year or long enough to finish a course of treatment that is already underway. The DHCS provides a your rights to continuity. You can also contact your current health plan for additional information or ask your . The Health Consumer Alliance (1-888‑804‑3536, or ) is another source of information and assistance, as is Medi-Cal’s managed care ombudsman (1-888-452-8609, or MMCDOmbudsmanOffice@dhcs.ca.gov)

Despite the state’s best intentions, an acute shortage of medical professionals could be a big obstacle. “As these coverage expansions are happening, and as this innovation is happening, it is being built on a health workforce that is already strained,” says Berenice Nuñez Constant, senior vice president for government relations at AltaMed Health Services, one of the state’s largest community clinic groups.

Labor shortage or not, the health plans must deliver on their contractual obligations. Anthony Wright, executive director of the advocacy group Health Access California, says, “On some level, this is about holding the plans accountable for what they are promising and getting tens of billions of dollars for.”

This article was produced by Ģ��ӰԺ Health News, which publishes , an editorially independent service of the .��

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

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This story can be republished for free (details).