Don’t Think About Possibilities. Think About Adjacent Possibilities.

Imagine that the receding COVID-19 pandemic had happened ten years ago. What would we have done for work? Would we have simply masked up and soldiered on as folks did with the 1918 influenza pandemic and accepted the inevitable, staggering death toll? Would we have suspended all business for a few weeks or months and used even more generous government borrowing and spending to keep our heads above water?

Fortunately, most of us didn’t have to make those choices. (“Essential workers,” like folks working in shipping, grocery stores, health care, and other fields, did have to make those choices, and we should recognize and applaud their work and sacrifice). Most of us had access to computers and high-bandwidth internet connections that allowed us to transition our work or school to a virtual space. But that would not have been possible even ten years ago. At that point, neither the software nor the internet was ready. The development of widely available broadband and the subsequent development of Zoom, Microsoft Teams, WebEx, GoToMeeting, Google Teams, and a half-dozen other virtual meeting platforms is a good example of the “adjacent possible,” the most famous idea brought forth by the physician and theoretical biologist Stuart Kauffman.

In his book “At Home in the Universe,” Kauffmann described early earth as (I’m paraphrasing here) a “primordial stew.” Atoms and molecules collided with each other and transformed each other in infinite ways, eventually sticking together into a set of new molecules that self-organized and self-replicated in a process we now call “life.” In his typically mathematical way, he points out how close to “infinite” he means when he talks about those new molecules:

“Biological proteins use 20 kinds of amino acids — glycine, alanine, lysine, arginine, and so forth. A protein is a linear sequence of [amino acids]. Picture 20 colors of beads. A protein of 100 amino acids is like a string of 100 beads. The number of possible strings is just the number of types of beads, here 20, multiplied times itself 100 times. That’s 10¹²⁰, or a 1 with 120 zeroes after it. Even in these days of vast federal deficits, 10¹²⁰ is a really big number. The estimated number of hydrogen molecules in the entire universe is 10⁶⁰. So the number of possible proteins of length 100 is equal to the square of the number of hydrogen molecules in the universe [emphasis mine].”

The complexity of life on earth, which is so daunting at first glance, seems much more inevitable when the interaction between such a vast number of molecules is considered. Here, a “trial” is two molecules interacting with the potential to form a new, novel molecule:

“Assuming that a “trial” occurs in a volume of one cubic micron and takes one microsecond, Shapiro calculated that enough time has elapsed since the earth was born to carry out 10⁵¹ trials, or less. If a new protein were tried in each trial, then only 10⁵¹ possible proteins of length 100 can have been tried in the history of the earth. Thus only a tiny portion of the total diversity of such proteins has ever existed on the earth! Life has explored only an infinitesimal fraction of the possible proteins.”

In the multi-billion-year history of planet Earth, we’ve experienced a tiny, tiny fraction of the proteins that could exist! The potential for other combinations of amino acids in new proteins represents the adjacent possible. Science writer Steven Johnson takes a more poetic and less mathematical approach to the adjacent possible. He describes it as “a kind of shadow future, hovering on the edges of the present state of things, a map of all the ways in which the present can reinvent itself.”

I went into this week’s blog post with the plan to talk about how the history of health insurance intersects with American ideals, what with Independence Day coming. But I veered into this topic instead because it seems the most American of all. We experience the health care system as it exists. We assume that its current temperature is what it always has been and always will be, like fish who don’t realize the temperature of their water or even know that water exists. But suppose we step back and see the tiny innovations happening in health care and the little experiments that succeed and fail daily. We can imagine an adjacent possible where everyone’s lives are better.

When you examine your benefit design, I hope you can keep that in mind. Paraphrasing Bill Gates, we all tend to overestimate the change that will take place in the next year, but we underestimate the change that will take place in the next decade. Good administrators, like good politicians, make changes that are popular and make people’s lives better. Think of minor problems in your benefit design that you can try to fix now. Some will fail, some will succeed, but in ten years, the effort to change them could genuinely transform health care. Just as we’ve not yet experienced the vast majority of possible proteins in Earth’s history, I’m confident that since the founding of the first American health insurance plan in 1850, we have tried only a tiny fraction of potential combinations of innovations in health care delivery.

Happy Independence Day.

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health, I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on hot topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

Vaccines: Influence, Not Mandate

The vaccines against SARS-CoV-2, the organism that causes COVID-19, are a slam-dunk, whether in terms of their economic impact, a humanistic perspective, or an observed reduction in morbidity and mortality. And the United States as a whole is doing reasonably well in getting people vaccinated (although Sedgwick County is a little behind the national average). As of the writing of this blog post, more than half of US adults have received full vaccination, and a large additional fraction has received at least partial vaccination. And while I’m not particularly interested in the pursuit of a theoretical threshold like “herd immunity,” most everyone agrees that the more people we can get vaccinated before this fall, the better. After all, the virus is still spreading among the unvaccinated population as quickly as it was at its peak.

Some universities are mandating vaccination. I can understand why. But my instincts always trend more toward influencing decisions rather than mandating behaviors. So it was helpful (and, I’ll admit, a little discouraging) to see that the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) recently ruled on using incentives to get employees vaccinated. In short, and to steal from our frequent collaborator Al Lewis:

“If employers set up a system in which they administer the vaccine themselves on a voluntary basis, businesses can also offer employees incentives — be they perks or penalties — so long as they are “not so substantial as to be coercive.”

If the process of setting up vaccine distribution yourself sounds tricky, you’re right. The new mRNA-based vaccines, in particular, while scientific marvels, are pretty delicate and require special handling. So we anticipate most of our members will utilize more traditional routes to vaccination, like clinics and health departments. How can we get our employees to take that leap?

In thinking out loud about this question, I’m cross-tabulating two sources. Source one is the new edition of Influence by Robert Cialdini, a seminal text in the science of persuasion. Source two is a summary by German Lopez, based mainly on Kaiser Family Foundation survey data, on the six overarching reasons some Americans are slow to be vaccinated: lack of access, lack of fear of COVID-19, fear of side effects, lack of trust in vaccines, lack of confidence in institutions, and conspiracy theories.

Let’s discuss how Cialdini’s Seven Keys to Influence might address those six big reasons for slow vaccination and how we can apply them to get more people immunized:

  1. Reciprocity. Pharmaceutical representatives don’t give out medication samples, tchotchkes, and meals to doctors’ offices out of charity or even advertising. They do it to cause a feeling of indebtedness on the part of the clinical staff. Doctors who receive these gifts are far more likely to prescribe medications represented by salespeople than are doctors who don’t receive the gifts. The same goes for people who’ve received free address labels from a charity. We can copy this strategy in our employee populations by pointing out the generosity of our leave policies around COVID-19 infections or exposures. The company is doing this for you. All we ask in return is that you do your part by reducing everyone’s risk by getting vaccinated. And we’ll even help give you time off and help you get to the vaccination distribution center!

  2. Commitment. When a company asks you to sign up for their newsletter, “club,” or punchcard, they’re trying to get a commitment from you, however small it may be. Consider asking your employees to sign up for a newsletter from your wellness department or vendor, and make sure vaccines are mentioned in nearly every edition.

  3. Social proof. Colleges and universities once tried to discourage binge drinking by pointing out how many students were injured or killed by binge drinking behavior. It didn’t work. When those same colleges and universities pivoted to a strategy of showing how many students did not binge drink, they saw results. People do what they see others doing. So once you have an idea that a big chunk of your employees has already been vaccinated, point this out in a campaign and emphasize how proud the company is of its employees’ contribution to safety. Even an employee who doesn’t particularly fear infection may want to be part of a positive culture.

  4. Authority. People trust authority figures. In the vaccine world, people trust their personal physicians most of all. So if you feel your vaccine push is falling short, encourage employees to see their doctor to talk about the minimal risks and potentially huge benefits of vaccination.

  5. Liking. People prefer to be seen positively by their peers. This desire can often override other emotions or beliefs like a lack of trust. If we can make vaccination the norm in our workplace and point out the positive effect of people who’ve received the vaccine, a certain number of people will experience a change of heart.

  6. Scarcity. When Amazon alerts you, “Only two remaining in stock,” they’re taking advantage of our attraction to scarce resources. Gold and platinum would not be expensive and desired if you could dig them out of your backyard with a shovel. So this summer, as we anticipate another rise in COVID-19 cases in the fall, we should point out the scarcity of time to take advantage of vaccination. Only three months left!

  7. Unity. This principle takes advantage of our natural tribal instinct toward “Us versus Them.” When the anti-smoking Truth Initiative debuted, it used this exact trick by casting Big Tobacco as an opponent to be defeated by a unified, righteous group of young nonsmokers. The effect on the youth smoking rate, pre-vaping, was astonishing. By one estimate, it prevented 300,000 kids per year from smoking. The Truth Initiative essentially turned the Big Tobacco companies into conspirators and encouraged kids to rebel. And it worked.

Our goal shouldn’t be to trick anyone into doing something they don’t want to do. But in working to get the largest possible fraction of the population vaccinated, we should use the best, most scientifically sound arguments and strategies we can.

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health, I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on hot topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

Is your bedroom the new hospital?

In his book “Home Game: an Accidental Guide to Fatherhood,” author Michael Lewis tells the story of his infant son’s admission to the hospital for a lung infection with respiratory syncytial virus, commonly known as “RSV.” His son requires oxygen during his stay but gets no other treatment: no antibiotics, no steroids, no ventilator. Michael speculates that the only reason his kid was admitted was so that nurses and doctors could check on him daily in case he got worse and needed to be intubated. And so, feeling the burn of a lost night’s sleep for both himself and his son, Michael stages a minor protest to allow his son to rest. He meets every potential visitor to the room at the door and demands to know their purpose. Nurses are mostly let in. But if the visitor is a resident or medical student “checking in,” for example, he gives them an update on his son’s respiratory rate and oxygen level and shoos them away. After a couple days his son improves and is discharged home.

As of the writing of this blog post roughly 130,000 Americans are hospitalized with COVID-19, up from ~96,000 at the beginning of December, resulting in more than a third of America’s hospitals operating at at least 90 percent capacity. Some of those inpatients are like Michael Lewis’s son: they’ve been admitted because of frailty or a combination of risk factors (age, other diseases, etc.) that put them at higher risk of death, and the primary treatments they are receiving are oxygen and steroid medications that could theoretically be delivered at home.

Like telemedicine, our very idea of the purpose of hospitalization may be morphing under the pressure of a viral pandemic, prompting changes that have been smoldering for decades. CMS is exploring ways to increase hospital capacity during the COVID-19 surge. We can’t solve this problem by building new hospitals. That takes time (at least outside of China), and hospital beds are needed in relatively small numbers in the US (compared to places like Germany) when viral pandemics aren’t raging uncontrollably. CMS is instead encouraging hospitals to be more aggressive in deciding who can be cared for at home in a program they call, unimaginatively, the “Acute Hospital Care At Home” program, a waiver allowing qualifying health systems to provide hospital-level care at patients’ homes for more than 60 conditions, including common reasons for admission like asthma, congestive heart failure, and pneumonia. You can’t be “admitted” to your own bedroom via telemedicine; you have to be transferred from an in-person emergency department or traditional inpatient hospital bed after an in-person evaluation by a physician. And surgical care clearly needs to be done in the traditional setting, at least for now.

Some companies, having anticipated this need, are marketing equipment or even using artificial intelligence-based systems for monitoring “hospitalized” patients at home. And it seems to work. “Hospital at home” may be marginally better than traditional hospitalization: a study in the Annals of Internal Medicine showed that with one home hospital program, only 7% of patients had to be readmitted to the hospital within 30 days of discharge, compared to 23% of inpatients in traditional care, and the average cost of care of home was 38% lower than care in the hospital.

So the next time you’re on your way to the hospital (heaven forbid), be sure to keep your choice in the back of your mind before you hit the door: would you rather be cared for in the hospital, or would you rather convalesce in the comfort of your own bed?

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on hot topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

Is it time to re-think sick leave?

When I was a medical resident, saucy attending physicians, wanting to impress on us the importance of our work, said things like “If we’re not rounding with you, we better be rounding on you,” meaning that in order to justify missing hospital rounds we better be sick enough to need hospitalization ourselves. So it was no surprise that I once saw a residency classmate work through a night call shift with obvious symptoms of acute influenza.

In the COVID-19 era, working with patients through a febrile illness seems as dated as smoking indoors or driving without a seatbelt. But America remains one of the few developed countries that does not guarantee universal access to paid sick leave for all workers. Twenty-seven percent of all US employees and 17 percent of all US full-time employees cannot take paid sick leave. Congress tried to address this, albeit temporarily, with the Families First Coronavirus Response Act (FFCRA), which was passed on April 1, 2020 and expired on December 31, 2020. 

As a reminder, FFCRA said that employers with up to 500 employees must cover, with exceptions:

  • Up to 80 hours paid sick leave at usual pay if the employee was quarantined and/or experiencing COVID-19 symptoms

  • Up to 80 hours paid sick leave at two-thirds usual pay if the employee was caring for someone else in quarantine

  • Up to 10 weeks of paid expanded family and medical leave at two-thirds usual pay if the employee was unable to work due to caring for a child whose school or child care provider was closed or unavailable for reasons related to COVID-19

About a quarter of US companies affected by the law used it in its lifespan; employers with 500 or more employees already overwhelmingly offer paid sick leave. FFCRA’s passage set up a “natural experiment” (we’ve talked about these before): in some states like Kansas without pre-existing laws around sick leave, workers gained the right to take paid sick leave. These were treated by researchers as the “treatment group.” Their change in COVID-19 rates were compared to changes in workers in twelve states and the District of Columbia who already had access to paid sick leave before FFCRA, the “control group.” Investigators were able to use baseline levels of infection in the few weeks before passage of the law as a baseline. 

The results? States where employees gained new access to paid sick leave had a “statistically significant decrease of approximately 400 fewer confirmed new cases per state per day relative to the pre-FFCRA period and to states that had already enacted sick pay mandates before enactment of the FFCRA.” The authors estimate that this translated into about one prevented case per day per 1,300 newly covered workers.

Given COVID-19’s roughly 2% mortality rate, 400 cases fewer per day could equals as many as eight lives per state per day saved by a simple administrative decision. This is completely in line with previous research showing that paid sick leave induces employees with contagious infections like influenza to take sick leave, thus reducing influenza activity during non-COVID-19 times.

Besides the obvious humanistic angle, is this cost effective? After all, COVID-19 hospitalizations are expensive. I tried to muddle through some math to see how much each saved life cost, but I don’t trust my numbers. So instead I’ll ask you: if you’re an employer with fewer than 500 employees, how did FFCRA affect you and your bottom line?

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on hot topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

Refusing COVID Vaccination Is Morally Indefensible

Imagine for a moment that you are stuck on an island with a few dozen other people. The island has a spring that serves as its only source of fresh drinking water. By some stroke of luck, the island also has a safe, secure, sanitary porta potty that sits a couple hundred feet from the freshwater spring (humor me; you saw Cast Away). You and the other strandees have collectively decided that the porta potty is safe and that it is open and free for everyone on the island to use.

In spite of this astonishingly lucky set of circumstances, a fellow desert-islander named Chuck tells the group that he’s philosophically opposed to using the portable toilet and that the only comfortable place for him to have a bowel movement is on a stump a few feet away from the freshwater spring. Chuck is not differently abled. There are no poisonous plants or insects in the area of the toilet. He has no history of an allergic reaction to the toilet seat in the porta potty. Everyone points out to Chuck that by doing this he will endanger the lives of everyone else through contamination of their drinking water with his feces. An epidemiologist in the group (again, what a stroke of luck!) calculates that by continuing to defecate near the spring, Chuck will give between two and three people a diarrheal illness, and given the tenuous nutritional situation on the island, one of them may die. Chuck is unconvinced, and continues to use the spring as his private latrine.

Now imagine that a vaccine to a virus that is currently the number one cause of death in the United States is available for free. It appears safe. It cannot give you the virus, as it contains no intact virus. By getting the vaccine you will drop your chance of illness by more than 90%. More importantly, you may well save someone else’s life by getting it, just as Chuck might save the health of his island-mates by pooping in the toilet. That vaccine, obviously, is one of the newly available vaccines against SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19.

Given this, we can only conclude that anyone who has access to COVID-19 vaccination and for whom vaccination is not medically contraindicated has a moral obligation to undergo vaccination in order to contribute to herd immunity. The end. It is a classic utilitarian problem: unless the individual cost of being vaccinated is so high that it outweighs the expected negative effect on the aggregate wellbeing of others, we are obligated to be vaccinated. And if you think a possible mild fever for two days outweighs the current death rate of more than 3,000 people per day in the United States, we operate in different moral universes.

This calculation applies not only to the elderly, whose COVID-19 infection fatality rate may be more than 10%, but to the youngest people approved to get the vaccine (sixteen year-olds) who have an infection fatality rate of less than 0.01%. Because the spread of the virus, often asymptomatically, among young people is the single biggest threat to the health and life of the elderly. Fortunately, since SARS-CoV-2 is not as easily transmissible as extremely contagious viruses like measles, and since the vaccines are extremely effective, the number of vaccinated people needed to achieve “herd immunity” is smaller than some other vaccinations: probably around 75-85%. But we’re operating on the razor’s edge right now: our drinking water-contaminating friend Chuck is the 16% of the population who still state they will refuse a COVID-19 vaccine.

If you have a known severe allergic reaction to a prior vaccine, then you should probably wait to be vaccinated against SARS-CoV-2. But true allergic reactions to vaccines are unusual. By my back-of-the envelope count, only three people out of many tens of thousands already vaccinated have reported allergic reactions.

So please get vaccinated as soon as you can. And please encourage your employees to get vaccinated. It is our only path out of the sticky mess we’ve been in since March.

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on hot topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

When will I get the coronavirus vaccine?

The importance of vaccine development and deployment is hard to overstate

About 700,000 Americans have died of HIV, ever. As of the writing of this blog post, roughly 210,000 Americans have died of COVID-19 in about seven months. And that number probably underestimates the real death rate by a quarter (paywall).

After a very eventful week for COVID-19, some good news is poking up through the weeds. We’re close enough to getting one or more functional vaccines that we need to start thinking about how to distribute those vaccines. The National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, in response to a request from NIH and CDC, formed a committee to “assist policymakers in the U.S. and global health communities in planning for equitable allocation of vaccines against COVID-19.” Their report, authored by Emory University’s Dr. William H. Foege and 17 other members, is now available for free download. Some highlights:

First, the committee recommends that shots be free of charge to all, and that efforts to distribute them should focus on disadvantaged areas to “remedy” racial health disparities. The report further suggests CDC hold back 10% or so of the vaccine in reserve for use in “hot spots” identified through the Social Vulnerability Index, a tool that uses 15 Census data points on race, poverty, crowded housing, and other factors to estimate risk in natural disasters. Look at the figure below to get a sense of this:

https://www.medrxiv.org/content/medrxiv/early/2020/07/06/2020.07.04.20146084.full.pdf

https://www.medrxiv.org/content/medrxiv/early/2020/07/06/2020.07.04.20146084.full.pdf

Don’t worry about the text, which I know is hard to read. Look at how the green and gold counties on the left figure, which represent high-risk areas in the Social Vulnerability Index, line up with the red counties in the figure on the right, which represent the highest per-capita mortality rates. You’ll notice a pretty neat fit.

But beyond those broad measures, the guidance of the NAS committee is that immunization should be implemented in “waves.” See which one you fit into:

Wave One

When vaccines and supplies are expected to be scarce, they recommend the first doses should go to high-risk health care workers in hospitals and nursing homes and to those providing home care. First responders also would be in this group, along with anyone who works in a hospital or clinic, from clerks through janitorial staff. This is because, somewhat counter-intuitively, models show that vaccinating the workers will save more lives than vaccinating the residents.

Wave Two

This wave would come at an undetermined time related to the successful production and deployment of vaccine doses, which would include older residents of nursing homes and other crowded facilities, along with people of all ages with high-risk health conditions. The report lists cancer, chronic kidney disease, and obesity among possibilities, but does not commit to a full list of conditions that should be included.

Later Waves

Subsequent waves would vaccinate teachers, child care workers, workers in essential industries (which may vary state-to-state, since even though Federal health officials have the final say on distributing the 300 million vaccine doses the government is buying under Operation Warp Speed, state and local health departments will decide many details), people living in homeless shelters, group homes, prisons, and other facilities, since like nursing home residents, they can’t simply isolate themselves if they’re infected..

Everyone else—healthy children, young adults, etc.—are recommended to wait until vaccine supplies increase. The AP reports that “Many health experts predict a vaccine won’t be widely available to all Americans until mid-to-late next year.”

So this is where we review the fact that a vaccine won’t be magical. It’s worth emphasizing that the vaccine will add to, not replace, present efforts. Let’s assume that the best vaccine is 70 percent effective. By the standard we’re accustomed to with influenza vaccination that’s pretty good. That means that if 330 million Americans receive the vaccine, 99 million will be left vulnerable. And we still don’t know how long the vaccine will protect us; it could be months or it could be years. You’ll likely need to take multiple doses for maximum effect. So alas, the practices of social distancing of some sort and masking in crowded places aren’t going anywhere soon. But that caveat aside, there may be a vaccine-tinted light at the end of a very long tunnel.

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This was a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

Why Six Feet?

“We should all stand six feet apart to prevent the spread of COVID-19.” If you haven’t had that hammered into your head since March, let me be the hammer that takes the last lick at the nail.

Where did that number come from?

Six feet seems arbitrary. Why not five feet? Why not ten feet? In the August 25 issue of the British Medical Journal, “BMJ” for short, a few authors take us on a journey six feet long (or two meters, if you’re in one of the all-but-three countries that has switched from imperial to metric measurement; or two metres if you’re a true pedant).

The two-meter rule has a long history. Scientists in the 19th century, shortly after the very invention of germ theory, placed culture plates around patients who were then asked to cough or sneeze. Then the scientists could culture out whatever bugs landed on the plates. Most of the plates more than 1-2 meters from the test subject failed to grow anything scary. So, two meters became the default distance.

As cameras got better in the 1940s, visual representation of sneezes became possible:

Gross backlit sneeze snapshot brought to you by Wikipedia

Gross backlit sneeze snapshot brought to you by Wikipedia

One experiment showed that only 10% of droplets traveled as far as 5 ½ feet. So even though 10% of sneezers were able to eject harmful bacteria up to 9 ½ feet away, the two-meter rule was cemented. Unfortunately for hard-core two-meter adherents, recent studies have failed to fully support these original conclusions. Eight out of the ten studies included in a recent systematic review, for example, showed large numbers of respiratory droplets landing beyond 2 meters for particles up to 60 micrometers, a particle size large enough to contain thousands of copies of SARS CoV-2, although not small enough to deposit those viruses into your lungs.

Dragon breath-like eight-meter sneeze plume brought to you by Lydia Bourouiba via Wikipedia

Dragon breath-like eight-meter sneeze plume brought to you by Lydia Bourouiba via Wikipedia

What do we do with this information?

Not to pat my family on the back, but you do the same thing we did this weekend. You pretend that everyone in the world is a smoker, and you protect yourself from the imaginary PM2.5-rich smoke by wearing a mask and keeping your distance. On a shopping trip this past weekend, my wife and I ran into an acquaintance and talked with her, indoors, for several minutes. In our minds, she was actively smoking: we did not shake hands, hug, or get closer than a few feet, and everyone wore a mask.

Two days later, that person tested positive for COVID-19.

I’m going to be careful and self-isolate myself for a couple of weeks just in case; I’m fortunate that my work allows it fairly easily. But for the most part I feel safe because we were all masked, including the infected person, and we stayed relatively physically distant. Because as the authors of this review noted, the risk of transmission, even with prolonged exposure, is relatively low if everyone is masked and the environment is reasonably well-ventilated:

British Medical Journal

British Medical Journal

As we mentioned in a previous blog post, for example, two Missouri hairstylists who unknowingly exposed hundreds of people to the virus appear to have infected zero clients because of their fastidious facemask use.

So six feet isn’t magical. But it’s still a reasonable number, especially combined with good ventilation and good adherence to masking. The next time you see me, if I keep my distance and don’t shake your hand, it isn’t personal. It’s epidemiology.

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This was a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

What is the value of a mask?

For various reasons the rate of infection in Kansas is back on the way up, and it’s bound to get worse as the weather cools and we all spend more time indoors together.

 As businesspeople, we want to see a return on our investment. But what if the investment we make isn’t in our business or in the stock market, but in our health, and specifically in COVID-19 protection? An analysis from Goldman Sachs recently tried to answer this very question.

How do masks affect usage, case rate, and fatality?

The investigators estimated that the “Effective Lockdown Index, or “ELI,” a statistic of their own that takes into account a combination of official social mobility restrictions and actual social distancing data, took away about 17% from American gross domestic product (GDP) between January and April this year.

Then they looked at data from multiple sources to make a couple big conclusions:

First, mask mandates immediately increase the number of people who mask by about 25%. This seems reasonable and in line with our local experience when the Sedgwick County and City of Wichita emergency orders went into place. (It’s also worth remembering on a national level that Florida and Texas, two of the most-affected states, still don’t have statewide mask mandates).

Second, mask mandates are associated with large reductions in cases and deaths from COVID-19:

Again, this is largely in line with the change seen in Kansas counties with mask mandates versus counties without mask mandates. So using some further reasonable assumptions and fancy statistical methods, the Goldman Sachs folks determined that a national mandate would cause a 15 percent rise in the share of the population that wears masks, which would in turn reduce the daily growth of cases by about one percent.

Gauging the economic impact of wearing a mask

With those numbers in their pockets, the investigators went back to their “ELI” to determine what fraction of the economy would be affected by another March/April-style lockdown:

They determined that another lockdown similar to this past spring’s would cost just short of 5% of total economic activity. As we said last spring, pandemic viruses cause recessions. Then authors writing in The Economist simply divided that share of GDP by the number of people who would start wearing masks under a mandate and came up with a value for mask wearing. They calculated that one American wearing a mask for one day prevents a fall in GDP of $56.14, or about double the initial fine that you would get in Wichita for being a recalcitrant mask non-wearer. As the authors of the Economist piece said, “Not bad for something that you can buy for about 50 cents apiece.” Clearly they’re not taking into account my designer taste in facial covering, but I digress.

 It’s tough to overstate how huge this potential cost savings is. For reference, doubling smoking cessation counseling services, as we covered in a previous blog post, returns about $215 per employee over ten years, the equivalent of about $0.06 per day. I’ll admit that’s not a fair comparison, since we’re comparing the benefit to the employer in the case of smoking cessation versus the benefit to the national economy in mask-wearing. But I think my point is made.

 I’m lucky to live in a mask-mandated city inside a mask-mandated county. But for the rest of us, if we want our businesses to stay open, and if we cannot count on mandates or enforcement at the city, county, state, or federal levels, we need to mandate mask use from our employees ourselves.

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This was a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

COVID-19 May Be Worse in the Fall. The Time to Protect Yourself is Now.

The rate of new COVID-19 cases is finally headed downward again in Kansas:

Statnews.com

Statnews.com

We’re not through this yet.

With fall comes cooler weather and seasonal influenza stacked on top of the COVID-19 pandemic. This looming threat is causing foundational changes in our expectations of the season. Several college conferences have already cancelled sports. Theater releases of movies that cost hundreds of millions of dollars to produce have been delayed indefinitely, and others have gone straight to video on demand. The spookiness of the Halloween season is real, and getting realer every day.

So we and our employees should continue masking. Masking works (as long as the mask isn’t a fleece buff). We should continue socially distancing whenever possible, and we should obviously get vaccinated against seasonal influenza when we can. We should get the COVID-19 vaccine as soon as it is available. But what else can we do?

We can lose weight. Real disaster preparedness isn’t hoarding water or ammunition. It is largely the preparation of your body and your bank account for emergencies. A recent study in the Annals of Internal Medicine found that, especially in people younger than 65, obesity was one of the biggest risk factors for intubation and death with COVID-19. And the bigger patients were, the higher the risk. “Morbidly” obese COVID-19 patients–those with a body mass index, or BMI, of 40 kg/m2 or greater–were 60% more likely to die or require intubation, compared with people of normal weight:

Annals of Internal Medicine

Annals of Internal Medicine

And obesity may even decrease the effectiveness of a future SARS-CoV-2 vaccine.

So if you are one of the roughly 40% of Americans who are obese, then to protect yourself this fall, the time to start reducing risk is now. This isn’t about judgement or shaming. I’ve been very vocal in the past about my disdain for the opinion that obesity is some personal or moral failing. It is not. It is a product of genetics and environment, just like heart disease, cancer risk, and yes, risk for infections.

How can you, as an employer, help your employees reduce risk beyond vaccination?

Traditional worksite wellness programs are disappointing, unfortunately, although as we’ve blogged about in the past, some worksite strategies for weight loss have proven modestly effective around the holidays. And restricting one’s diet to “unprocessed” foods such as those in Group 1 of the NOVA Food Classification System appears to result in weight loss even without intentional dieting. If we take the problem seriously, though, we’re inevitably led to the question of coverage of weight loss programs like the Diabetes Prevention Program, coverage of weight loss medications, and coverage of bariatric surgery. [Disclaimer: KBGH is funded in part by two CDC grants that aim to identify obese or pre-diabetic people and refer them into programs like the Diabetes Prevention Program that help them lose weight and reduce their risk.]

If you’re not already covering these benefits, consider them the next time you update your employee benefits. And, as always, if KBGH can be any help in determining the potential benefits to your employees from these programs or treatments, please contact us!

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This was a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

The COVID-19 vaccine will follow a legacy of remarkably safe vaccines

Trust in vaccines is waning

In addition to social distancing, masking, handwashing, and generally caring about the welfare of our fellow humans, we’re all counting on an effective seasonal vaccine to eventually get us out of the COVID-19 fiasco we’re in now. But survey data shows that a huge chunk of the population is wary of a potential vaccine. This is no surprise; even routine vaccinations are met with skepticism they didn’t receive a couple decades ago, in spite of a scientific literature that overwhelmingly backs up their safety and efficacy.

As you look for data to share with employees to encourage vaccination–not just for COVID-19, but for all vaccine-preventable illnesses–pay attention to work that was just published in the Annals of Internal Medicine (paywall). 

Understanding vaccine labels

Investigators from Sheba Medical Center, Rabin Medical Center, and Tel Aviv Sourasky Medical Center, all in Israel, performed a comprehensive review of “post-marketing surveillance” data over a 20-year period from January 1996 to December 2015. Specifically, they used the FDA’s Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS), a portal through which people can report possible medication adverse events, and then looked at the “labels” of vaccines, to see how the labels of 57 vaccines had changed over that period of time. Labels are those folded package inserts that come wrapped around any medicine bottle. Changes to labels are common after a drug hits the market. Invokana (canagliflozin), a diabetes drug that works extremely well for certain patients, for example, carries a “black box warning” on its label stating that it can increase the risk of foot amputation in certain people.  

But back to our study: for each safety-related modification to a vaccine’s label, researchers noted the date of the label change, the type of safety-related label change (like addition of a boxed warning like Invokana’s, a change in reasons to avoid the vaccine, or a change in other warnings and precautions), any safety issues related to the label change, and the source of the data that led to the label change (like post-marketing surveillance, publications in medical journals, or reassessment of data from old studies). 

Why vaccines labels might get changed

The investigators found that initial approval for 93% of the vaccines was supported by randomized controlled trials, the most reliable form of medical research. The studies were large, with a median 4,161 participants. So the vaccines got off to a good start. After approval, there were 58 label modifications over twenty years associated with 25 vaccines: 49 warnings and precautions, eight new contraindications to using the vaccine, and one safety-related withdrawal.

The most common source of safety data was post-marketing surveillance, which resulted in almost half of label changes. Most of that safety data was identified through the FDA’s VAERS, likely an indication of the quality of the FDA’s post-marketing surveillance of vaccines, even in the eyes of the Israeli docs doing the study. The most common safety issue resulting in a label modification was a change in the population to be vaccinated, such as adding or subtracting pregnant women or patients with abnormal immune systems. These made up about a third of label changes. Newly discovered allergies made up about a fifth of label changes, mostly due to changes in latex-containing packaging. 

We should still be encouraging vaccination

In spite of overwhelming evidence of vaccine safety, the researchers write that “Rates of vaccination uptake have been decreasing in recent years, partly driven by reduced public trust and parental concerns over safety. If vaccines are perceived as unsafe, uptake in the population will decrease further, and the prevalence of infectious diseases and their associated morbidity and mortality will increase.” 

It is our job as health and human resource professionals to have vaccination available, including an eventual COVID-19 vaccine, and to help our patients and employees make good decisions around vaccination. If you have had success in promoting vaccination in the past, to influenza, pneumonia, shingles, or other diseases; or if you have plans to launch a novel vaccination campaign around COVID-19 in the future, please share it with us!

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This was a reprint of a blog post from KBGH.

How you can help your employees make decisions

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

Our work at the Kansas Business Group on Health straddles our employer-oriented pursuits and efforts to advance the goals of two grants from the Centers for Disease Control (CDC). One of the goals of our work with the CDC is to increase the number of people being screened for diabetes. For people who are “pre-diabetic,” meaning their blood sugars are higher than normal but not high enough to qualify for a diagnosis of “full-blown diabetes,” our goal is to get them into the Diabetes Prevention Program (DPP), a one-year behavior change program that, through dietary changes and increased physical activity, reduces the risk of progressing to diabetes by 58%.

This is a challenge. Though the DPP is a covered benefit through Medicare, it is not consistently covered by private insurers. And even with coverage, people’s enthusiasm for paying for and completing a program to treat a disease state that is asymptomatic is generally low. So we work with employers to make the DPP a covered benefit. You may have heard from us about this. If not, please contact us. But we also work with clinics on strategies to increase screening for diabetes and to increase patient use of the DPP.

So we were encouraged to see a paper in the Journal of General Internal Medicine this week (paywall) demonstrating a quick way to substantially increase the likelihood of patients agreeing to enter “intensive lifestyle interventions” like the DPP.

The investigators surveyed patients who qualified for the DPP to measure their intention to participate. 70% of patients at baseline said they would be willing to participate. Then the staff members of the health center presented this decision aid to the subjects by reviewing the icons, reading the written information out loud, and briefly discussing the participants’ needs and next steps:

Northwestern University

Northwestern University

The backside of the decision aid, which I’m not showing here, contained open-ended questions assessing needs related to the prevention of type 2 diabetes and defining next steps for management. After seeing the decision aid, the participants in the study willing to participate in the DPP rose to 88%, a statistically significant increase.

This is encouraging for a couple of reasons. First, it didn’t matter who presented the decision aid to the participants. Staff members and medical assistants had similar results.

Second, this is the rare tool that has shown such a positive effect. Simply handing out pamphlets to patients repeatedly fails to change behaviors. When we try to induce behavior change through interaction with patients we have a bad habit of falling back on fear: “Quit smoking or you’ll die young.” “Don’t drink pop or you’ll get diabetes.” The trouble with this strategy is that it has almost no effect on complex, long-term behaviors like diet, physical activity, and smoking. Fear might work to convince someone to take an antibiotic for two weeks to keep from dying from pneumonia, for example. But for longer term decisions, we have to exploit people’s senses of autonomy, mastery, and purpose instead, just like we use in designing meaningful work for employees. (If you’re interested in this topic I recommend Drive by Dan Pink.) But those three components don’t lend themselves easily to a quick intervention. Doctors and nurses are trained in motivational interviewing to accomplish complex behavior change, but it requires a trusting relationship and time to work. This study showed that even a brief intervention, delivered both in writing and in person in a few minutes, can have a powerful effect. What if we could harness this strategy for other behaviors, like encouraging mask-wearing for COVID-19 protection?

The DPP, which is available both as an in-person class and via virtual platforms, has been shown to drastically reduce health care costs for employers of people at high risk of diabetes. If you want to know your own company’s potential savings, go to the American Medical Association’s Cost Saving Calculator. Let us know if we can help make this calculation. And if you’re interested in covering the DPP as a benefit to your employees, contact us!

Wearing a Mask is an Act of Service

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

From February to October of 2002 father and son John Allen Muhammad and Lee Boyd Malvo killed more than a dozen people and injured several more on a crime spree that started in Tacoma, Washington and ended in an orgy of indiscriminate violence in and around Washington, D.C. The media devoted enormous time and resources to the shootings. Once it was clear the attacks were the work of a serial killer, on-air coverage often lasted for hours after each attack.

The attacks naturally caused a huge amount of public apprehension in the D.C. area. People at gas stations began walking rapidly around their cars in order to make themselves harder targets. Many gas stations hung tarps around fuel pumps to block the view of potential snipers. People attempted to buy gas at the National Naval Medical Center, as they felt safer inside the guarded fence of a military installation. Senate pages got a police escort to and from the United States Capitol every day and were confined to their residence hall except for work activities. Schools cancelled field trips and outdoor sports, and some schools hired additional security officers and changed after-school pick-up procedures in order to minimize the amount of time children spent in the open.

People began wearing bulletproof vests.

Imagine the public reaction if the scale of the D.C. sniper attacks were much, much larger. What if, instead of a dozen or so deaths over nine months, one to two thousand Americans were dying daily in the crosshairs of snipers. Imagine that elders, especially those with medical conditions, were the primary target of the snipers simply because they were easier to kill.

What would be our response to this internal threat? Would we hole up for a month, wait for the death rate from terrorist attacks to plateau, and then largely go about our business? No. I suspect we would devote billions or even trillions of dollars to identifying members of the group, arresting them, and prosecuting them. We would use sophisticated methods to track their movement.

And we would wear bulletproof vests.

You may have figured out where I’m going with this. My analogy is pretty transparent. After the sacrifice of ten weeks of social distancing (which may have prevented 60 million infections and many thousands of deaths), we’re all naturally tired. But a rogue agent known as SARS-CoV-2 is on the move in America and still killing thousands of people per day through not gunshot wounds, but from a disease called COVID-19. We’re not in a second wave of infection; we’re not even out of the first wave yet:

US COVID Deaths June.png

The virus doesn’t kill by gunshot. It kills by airborne transmission and infection of people’s lungs.

Our bulletproof vests are masks. And we should be wearing them.

I know it’s hard to keep up with changing advice. Under the assumption that all masks worn would be medical grade the CDC originally advised against wearing them to avoid shortages. So did I. But the evidence has become very convincing that even cloth masks--our “bulletproof vests”--don’t just protect us. They protect those around us, too. One study showed that if even 60-70 percent of Americans consistently wore masks, and those masks were at least 60-70 percent effective at preventing disease transmission, we would crush the reproductive rate of the virus. The goal of any strategy in infection prevention is to get the number of people infected in turn by each infected person, the “Re,” down to less than 1.0:

Proceedings of the Royal Society A

Proceedings of the Royal Society A

Watch the rate of infection fall as the rate of mask wearing increases and the rate of effectiveness of the masks increases! The bidirectional effect of masking shines light on a more important point: protecting against coronavirus, whether by being careful with social distancing, by handwashing, or by mask wearing, is an act of service, just like getting vaccinated for other infectious diseases. We can only do so much to protect ourselves; most of our work should be in protecting one another. Two hairstylists in Missouri, who saw hundreds of clients after being unknowingly infected themselves, appear to have infected zero clients because of their faithful facemask use.

So in that regard, COVID-19 is not like a serial killer. COVID-19 is like HIV. Where sex is the dangerous activity (along with shared needles), being indoors with other people is the dangerous activity with COVID-19. Ninety-seven percent of “superspreading events” are indoors. I like Linsey Marr’s analogy about how COVID-19 is like cigarette smoking. Imagine everyone smokes but you. She said, “The denser the smoke, the more likely it is to affect you. It’s the same with this virus: The more of it you inhale, the more likely you are to get sick.” So if everyone around you smoked, you would stay out of crowded spaces that would be quickly filled with smoke. You would try to stand as far from the smokers as you could. If you could open a window to clear some of the smoke, you would. And if you were forced to be in a crowded space you would wear a mask to filter the smoke. 

I’ve had a chance now to see several workplaces’ policies around COVID-19 safety. And they’re pretty good! But we need to encourage our employees to follow those same safety rules outside the office. Ninety percent of Americans report frequently wearing masks. I cannot help but believe that there is a flaw in that data. My recent masked trips to the grocery store in which a small minority of people were wearing them tells me the true number is much smaller than that.

I know it can seem like a performance to wear a mask in public when you may not even know a person who’s been affected by COVID-19. But this shouldn’t be about virtue signaling. Defeating a global disease requires global effort. Protect the people around you. If you’re outdoors alone, you don’t need to mask up. But if you’re in a crowd where you can’t stay six feet from other people, or if you’re indoors with people you don’t live with, for heaven’s sake, wear a mask.

We Need to Support Black Doctors

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

The stark differences in health outcomes

We should never reduce any population of people to a set of statistics. Every one of those “statistics” has a story. But here are a few numbers that should get our attention:

African-Americans have a rate of COVID-19 that is three times higher than the infection rate of the population as a whole. Even worse, the risk of death of an African-American person with COVID-19 far exceeds that of other racial groups. While people of white, Latinx, and Asian descent have death rates that all fall between 20 and 23 deaths per 100,000 people, African-Americans have suffered a death rate more than twice as high: 50.3 deaths per 100,000 people. About one out of every 2,000 black people in America have already died of COVID-19. Let me repeat that: one two-thousandth of African Americans are already dead. From one disease. A similar death rate among white people would have resulted in almost 100,000 deaths just in that ethnic group so far. And sadly, Kansas has the highest racial disparity of any of the 41 states reporting such data.

But the damage is not limited to viral illnesses. Americans in general have lives about three years shorter than citizens of peer countries like those in Western Europe.

Screen Shot 2020-06-12 at 10.05.54 AM.png

African-American men have a life expectancy that is, in turn, almost five years shorter than the American average. This means that an African-American man loses the better part of a decade in life expectancy compared to an average western European citizen.

Screen Shot 2020-06-12 at 10.12.50 AM.png

And almost all of this difference is due to heart disease deaths, the risk of which is readily modifiable with solid, basic medical care.

What are the reasons for this disparity?

The basic medical care of black people is neglected for multiple reasons in our country, including a well-deserved historic lack of trust in the medical system by black people. Remember that in the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment the U.S. Public Health Service intentionally and secretly withheld treatment from a group of black men with syphilis from 1932 to 1972 to study the “natural history” of the disease, jeopardizing the health of the men and any future partners. 1972!

A second problem is a dearth of black physicians, starting in training. African-Americans are tragically underrepresented in medical school. While African-Americans make up 13.4% of the American population, they make up only 7.3% of medical students. This disparity, while slowly shrinking over time, has real consequences. Patients may do better when cared for by someone who looks like they do. A 2018 randomized trial found that black men had far better outcomes when cared for by black doctors: rates of screening for hypertension, diabetes, high cholesterol, and obesity went up markedly in men with black doctors, by more than 25% in some cases. The difference appeared to be due to improved communication. Patients were simply more likely to bring up other health problems when assigned to a black doctor. Interestingly, uptake of “invasive” screenings—tests involving probing or a blood draw–increased only for the group assigned a black doctor. This would seem to reinforce the idea that trust, long missing with the medical establishment, is a vital part of the doctor-patient relationship. And the cultural knowledge imparted by someone from your own community can be priceless, something we have found in our CDC work on community health workers.

The increased rate of screening demonstrated in this study could have huge health implications. The investigators tried to estimate the effect of having more black doctors in the population as a whole and found that even a modest increase could reduce the black-white gap in heart disease mortality by 19%, and the and the overall black-white gap in male life expectancy by 8%.

Efforts are being made to attack this problem from the start. After all, the lack of black trainees isn’t simply the result of fewer black kids wanting to be doctors. Quite the contrary. Locally, the Medical Society of Sedgwick County sends member physicians every year to talk to high school students about the process of applying for and completing medical training. Nationally, the American Medical Association has a program called “Doctors Back to School” to facilitate physicians of color visiting grade schools to encourage minority students to consider careers in medicine. Kids cannot be what they cannot see, as the platitude goes.

But the real impediment to getting more black doctors probably lies in greater systemic reform of the type that is being aggressively advocated for nationwide. We need to see this as a failure of the system, not a failure of individual people. As you watch protests unfold nationally and locally, I hope your view of them changes when you see them through this lens.

Which of your employees can return to work – and when?

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

In a perspective piece in this week’s New England Journal of Medicine, Dr. Marc Larochelle proposes a three-component strategy for returning to work: 1) a framework for counseling patients about the risks posed by continuing to work, 2) urgent policy changes to ensure financial protections for people who are kept out of work, and 3) a data-driven plan for safe re-entry into the workforce.

Let’s go through his framework for work-related risk first. He summarizes it with this diagram:

New England Journal of Medicine

New England Journal of Medicine

The occupational risk on the vertical y-axis is defined by OSHA standards. The horizontal x-axis is based on age and the presence of high-risk chronic conditions identified by the CDC, like diabetes and heart disease.

How this could work

Let’s consider a couple hypothetical employees to see how this rubric might work: “Matt” is a 65 year-old man with no chronic medical problems who takes no medications other than an occasional ibuprofen for joint pain. By the CDC risk stratification rubric, then, he is at high-risk based on his age alone. Matt works as a radiology technician with no direct patient contact, but he is within six feet of patients with confirmed or suspected SARS-CoV-2 infections daily. By the OSHA standard, then, he is at high, but not “very high,” risk. Regardless, by the proposed Larochelle risk stratification above, Matt would be category “C” and should not go back to work.

“Shelley” is a 25 year-old woman with a history of type 1 diabetes complicated by neuropathy and kidney disease. So she is medium-risk in spite of her complex medical history, in spite of her young age. She works in a retail setting in Wichita, a city with currently relatively modest levels of community transmission. Therefore her occupational risk would be considered “medium.” This would put her in category “A,” in which Dr. Larochelle recommends that she be able to return to work, albeit likely with fastidious use of personal protective equipment (PPE).

But beyond a strategy to determine the safety of the workplace, we owe it to people of elevated risk, even those working in risky jobs, to work on two additional goals: first, we should conceive strategies to allow people to live a dignified life without hardship while away from work. This is largely a policy position we can support through elected officials at the state and federal level.

Second, we owe it to high-risk people to develop strategies to allow them to eventually return to their jobs, preferably even before the risk of those jobs drops due to decreased community prevalence of the virus. In a widely read piece in The Atlantic a couple weeks ago, Dr. Julia Marcus analogized our current predicament to the HIV/AIDS epidemic of the 1980s and 1990s. It would have been easy, in theory, to stop HIV cold in its tracks: people just needed to stop having sex. But people like having sex, just like they like going to work and eating at restaurants and watching baseball. So public health officials were forced to come up with alternative, innovative strategies like promoting condom use.

Similarly, COVID-19 could be stopped cold, much as Mongolia has accomplished, by instituting strict limits on social interactions. But we’re at a point of quarantine fatigue in which further efforts at social distancing in the immediate future are likely to be met with resistance. And a vaccine is months, if not years, away. This is where testing comes in, especially in regard to risk stratifying people for return to work and social interaction.

The role of testing

In listening or watching the news on testing, you are likely to think that risk is binary: a positive swab test means you have COVID-19, and a negative test means you don’t. Likewise, one might believe, a positive IgG antibody test means that you’re immune to COVID-19, and a negative antibody test means you’re still at risk. But neither of these assertions are true. The “positive predictive” value of a test, meaning the likelihood of a positive test predicting the presence of an actual disease state, depends on the “pre-test probability.” So a person who lives in a community with low prevalence of COVID-19 and has had no known exposure to someone with the disease is unlikely to have immunity, regardless of what her antibody test says. Even with a test that is 90% sensitive and 95% specific, that person likely has only about a 25% chance of having immunity.

This doesn’t only apply to infectious disease testing, by the way, and testing for other conditions has real implications for your employees. It is popular for doctors to routinely check the thyroid blood tests of patients as part of routine medical testing. It is not uncommon for mildly abnormal results of such testing to result in the patient being put on thyroid hormone for life. But mildly abnormal thyroid blood testing in someone who feels well and has no physical signs of thyroid disease does not mean that person has a thyroid problem. It only means the person has about a one in three chance of having a thyroid problem. As with COVID-19 antibody testing, the initial abnormal test result should prompt additional evaluation, not a definitive diagnosis.

So what do we do with the results of COVID-19 antibody testing? CDC suggests that we use them to “risk stratify” people on a population level, not as a marker to indicate safe return to the workplace.

Instead, we should aggressively use nasal testing for the virus itself to determine the status of people with exposure to persons with known or suspected COVID-19, much as we’ve discussed in the past.

No one is padding numbers to increase COVID-19 case counts

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

I’ve heard a few times over the past couple weeks that hospitals are padding their case counts of COVID-19 patients in order to increase revenue. This is transparently, obviously false, as we’ll get into later. But before we wade into that, let’s take this chance for a quick review of how hospitals and doctors get paid for the care of patients.

The history and process for how physicians are paid

Once upon a time, billing for medical care was very informal. Hospitals and doctors largely set individual, almost artisanal, rates for each patient according to a “sliding scale” of what the patient was expected to be able to pay. Poor patients paid less, and wealthier patients paid more.

Once medical insurance became common, insurance companies, including Medicare, attempted to hold physicians and hospitals to the standard of  “customary, prevailing, and reasonable charges.” Unsurprisingly, this loose standard led to steadily inflated billing, so much so that the passage of Medicare is arguably what vaulted physicians from middle-class professionals into the upper reaches of national income. As early as 1970, congressional testimony referred to federal insurance as the “Goose that laid the golden egg” for physicians and hospitals.

Through a series of reforms in the 1970s, ‘80s, and ‘90s, billing for medical care became much more standardized (and in part led to the administrative bloat that is now the number one source of waste in American health care). Nearly every diagnostic or therapeutic procedure performed by a medical professional is now captured by a “Current Procedural Terminology” (CPT) code. For example, your dermatologist codes a “2029F” for a skin exam. A cardiothoracic surgeon codes a “33945” for a heart transplant. A routine, but fairly comprehensive new visit to a primary care doctor is coded a “99204.” All these codes are reimbursed according to the complexity of the task, taking into account the amount of time a procedure is expected to take, the amount of resources like syringes and protective equipment expected to be consumed, and the skill or level of training required to provide the service.

Hospitals themselves bill not according to CPT codes, but rather according to Diagnosis related groups (DRGs), which were introduced in the 1980s. DRGs are meant to make sure that reimbursement account for the severity and mix of the type of patients the hospital treats, and thus the resources that the hospital needs to treat those patients. For example, someone who presented with fever, cough, and a density on their chest x-ray, and who tested positive for COVID-19, would be coded a discharge diagnosis of “J12.81” for “pneumonia due to SARS-related coronavirus.” If that same patient needed ventilator support during her hospitalization, though, she would be coded “J96.01” for “Acute respiratory failure with hypoxia,” which pays in the ballpark of $54,000 (about three times as much as a COVID-related diagnosis). The additional payment is meant to pay for the increased duration of the visit and the increased intensity of treatment, since patients on ventilators are typically cared for by a single, specialized nurse, a respiratory therapist, a pulmonary physician, and others.

Our healthcare system has some inherent issues

The purpose of this post is not to defend current medical coding and billing. Our system is bizarre by almost any developed country’s standard. Take the way payment is determined for those CPT codes. The American Medical Association owns the Relative Value Scale Update Committee, or “RUC,” which is tasked with updating physician payment for those roughly 4,000 CPT codes. The RUC is powerful. It ultimately guides about 70% of all physician payment in the United States. Most of its 31 members are assigned by professional societies like the American College of Radiology and the American Society of Plastic Surgeons. Therefore, primary care doctors, the most cost-effective and crucial part of the health care workforce, make up only a tiny fraction of the committee. So the natural momentum of the committee is to steadily increase the payment for specialty care, while keeping reimbursement for routine care relatively flat. And the committee arguably works with faulty data. RUC recommendations are based on survey results of only about 2% of physicians, updated only every 5-20 years. Perhaps because of this, estimates of the time it takes to complete a given procedure—a vital component in calculating the complexity of care—are notoriously inaccurate.

In spite of these limitations, RUC recommendations are accepted without change by CMS more than 90% of the time, and commercial insurers largely base their payments on a multiple of the CMS charge as a baseline for negotiations with individual health systems.

Even though doctors can largely set their own rates without competition or pushback, they don’t get off scot-free. Because coding of routine visits is tied directly to the “complexity” of the patient, documentation requirements dictate that the average physician note in the U.S. is four times the length (paywall) of notes in peer countries. This is why you may have found notes from your doctor so long, repetitive, and bewildering. To make this worse, the advent of electronic health records has led to “chart bloat,” a phenomenon in which notes, thanks to cut-and-paste and other features, lead to an illusion of complexity and thus increased charges.

DRG rates, at least, are set by a slightly more predictable, scientific method. This isn’t to say that some gamesmanship doesn’t go into hospital billing; every physician in America has been coached on billing for the exact level of sickness of her patients at some point in her career.  The words, “Don’t bill a uroseptic patient for a simple UTI” still ring in my ears from residency.

So does this mean the number of COVID-19 cases are being inflated?

In spite of these faults, there is no evidence that we’re over-attributing illness to COVID-19. We are still under-testing compared to most of our peer countries, and this is reflected in the mortality data we’re seeing.  The “background” mortality rate in America is about 2.8 million deaths per year, with a little more than half of those deaths from cardiovascular disease and cancer. Deaths are seasonal and pretty steady year-over-year. But right now we’re seeing an excess mortality rate that is roughly double what COVID-19 accounts for. That is, only about half of observed excess premature deaths are in people diagnosed with COVID-19. So if anything, we are under-attributing deaths to COVID-19. After all, a patient who dies of a heart attack brought on by low oxygen levels and sticky blood due to an undiagnosed case of COVID-19 was still killed by COVID-19.

What about those increased payments for COVID-19 patients? It is true that hospitals make about 20% more for a patient infected with SARS-CoV-2. This is the result of the $100 billion slice of the federal stimulus passed in March that is allocated to hospitals. Why did hospitals get their own cut? Because volumes in hospitals are down by more than half as elective procedures like hip replacements and cardiac catheterizations—the lifeblood of hospital systems, for better or for worse—have been delayed or cancelled. Here is Harvard data on ambulatory visit volume through mid-April:

number-of-ambulatory-visits-during-Mar-and-Apr-graphic.png

As a result, health care jobs—long considered “recession-proof,” are going away. Almost 43,000 health care jobs were lost in March alone. Health care is such a giant part of the American economy—a stunning $3.5 trillion per year, good for almost a fifth of gross domestic product, again, for better or for worse—that this reduction in health service delivery is thought to account for about half of our current loss of GDP. That’s why you hear our current financial predicament being referred to as a “health care-led recession.”

So if COVID-19 is a huge conspiracy to allow doctors, nurses, and hospitals to make extra money, it isn’t a very good one. 

Will technology save the aging primary care workforce?

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

The issue we’re facing

The primary care physician workforce in Kansas–family doctors, internists, and pediatricians–is aging. Of the 1,976 primary care physicians in Kansas as of April 2020, 15.6 percent are already over 65, and 39.2 percent are over 55. The simple demographics of this are intimidating: even though they provide the most essential, cost-effective care in medicine, only 43 percent of practicing physicians in the U.S. are primary care providers, similar to the average of eleven Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development countries. But the fraction of graduating students entering primary care is steadily decreasing.  Even more ominously, older physicians are much more likely to be harmed by infectious diseases like SARS-CoV2, the causative virus behind COVID-19, adding to the inevitable workforce turnover caused by death. This all portends an uncertain future for primary care provision in many Kansas communities, since Kansas is already underserved relative to most other states at baseline.

As if that weren’t enough to worry about, physician skills appear to deteriorate over time. A 2017 study in the British Medical Journal found, for example, that elderly Medicare beneficiaries’ hospital adjusted 30-day mortality rates were 10.8% for physicians aged <40 and rose steadily to 12.1% for physicians aged ≥60, a 15% relative increase in risk for patients cared for by older doctors. Not only that, but costs of care were slightly higher among older physicians. This may not simply be due to age-related decline; it could be that younger doctors were trained in a way that improved their care. For example, “evidence-based medicine” is an integral part of medical training in the modern era. Older doctors who were not trained under this philosophy are demonstrably less likely to follow evidence-based care guidelines. This is hard for me to read. Statistically, I am likely a worse doctor than I was fifteen years ago. But I digress.

What can be done about this problem?

The Association of American of Medical Colleges, predictably, has argued for years that the solution is to train more physicians, by two mechanisms: first, the AAMC advocates for increasing the cap on Medicare funding that limits the number of residents at a given institution. Second, the AAMC supports greater incentives such as scholarships and loan repayment for primary care providers working in underserved areas. Examples of this are the Kansas Medical Student Loan Program, which pays for medical school for a limited number of students in return for an agreement to practice primary care in underserved areas in Kansas; and the Kansas Bridging Plan, which gives resident physicians additional funding during their training in exchange for a three-year commitment to practice in a rural community. On the federal level, the AAMC advocates for increased recruitment of international medical graduates, who already represent about a quarter of practicing physicians in America, through programs like the J-1 Visa Waiver program.

Others point toward increased use of non-physician practitioners like physician assistants (PAs) and advanced practice registered nurses (APRNs). This is clearly the preferred short-term option. PAs and APRNs require drastically less training than physicians, which eliminates the seven-year gap between policy and practice that we see in traditional medical training. And the health outcomes of patients seen by non-physician providers seem to be roughly equivalent to those of patients seen by doctors. Another British Medical Journal systematic review of randomized trials and observational studies–one of several such reviews in various journals, all with similar conclusions–concluded that “Patients are more satisfied with care from a nurse practitioner than from a doctor, with no difference in health outcomes.”

But long-term, if the skills of physicians like me decline with age, we can be certain the skills of other providers fall as well. How do we ensure that quality care continues to be delivered over the lifespan of the practitioner?

Automation may be the answer

Let’s look at my specialty, endocrinology. Six years ago, when I left full-time practice, the management of blood glucose levels was mostly an intuitive art/science, driven mostly by the experience of the physician-patient dyad. But in the last few years we’ve seen the emergence of “smart” glucometers that quadruple the likelihood of of a patient controlling their blood sugars while reducing their risk of dangerous low blood sugars. We’ve seen the development of automated insulin devices in the hospital that outperform conventional treatment of blood glucose levels. The FDA approved an artificial intelligence-based device to scan and diagnose the eyes of diabetic patients with diabetic eye changes (the most frequent complication of diabetes) without even having an ophthalmologist or optometrist involved. Newer, even more innovative, devices are in development, such as an app that can allegedly detect the presence of lung disease by the sound of a patient’s cough.

Some of these devices will pan out in the long run, while others won’t. But even a conservative projection is cause for optimism. It is not unreasonable to predict that practitioners with far less training than physicians will have the tools and skills to provide very competent care–elements of both primary care and specialty care–in the near future. Technology must be carefully monitored by humans, but its abilities do not decline with age. On the contrary, a given technology’s performance today is the worst that it will likely ever be. Best Buy will sell faster computers next month than it does today, and faster yet a year from now. And automated devices aren’t resistant to delivering evidence-based care; it is programmed in. I welcome the Rise of the Robots.

Social distancing doesn’t cause recessions – pandemics do

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

We’re almost a month into social distancing in our collective effort to reduce the spread of COVID-19. It’s working; models indicate we’ve likely already prevented hundreds of thousands of deaths. But the economic effects of social distancing are tough. Though we haven’t met the official definition of a recession yet, simply because we haven’t been at this long enough, no one doubts that we are in a recession, if not an outright depression. The 22 million unemployment claims in the U.S. since early March are at levels that dwarf even the 2008 Great Recession.

So, naturally, even though public support for continued social distancing remains high, we’re hearing calls from some to relax restrictions. Small protests have broken out in Ohio and other places. Politicians are clearly spooked by the impending decision on when to “re-open the economy,” as some call it. And even though it is easy to make fun of some of their responses to questioning, the decision to relax social distancing in the hopefully near future will clearly be based on some combination of instinct and data. The best data we have on the topic seems to come from more than 100 years ago, during the 1918 influenza epidemic.

Economists Sergio Correia and Stephan Luck of the Federal Reserve and Emil Verner from MIT recently tried to apply lessons learned from the 1918 “non-pharmacologic interventions” for influenza (what we’re calling “social distancing”) like closures of schools, theaters, and churches; restriction on public gatherings and funerals; quarantine of suspected cases; and restricted business hours, to our current situation.

They came to two conclusions: First, areas that were more severely affected by the 1918 Flu Pandemic saw a “sharp and persistent decline” in economic activity. This is no surprise. We’ve seen the devastation COVID-19 has wrought in northern Italy and New York City. Second, the economists concluded that early and extensive use of non-pharmacologic interventions like social distancing had no independent adverse effect on local economic outcomes. Rather, cities that intervened earlier and more aggressively experienced a relative increase in real economic activity after the pandemic was over compared to other cities.

In other words, these three economists concluded that it was not social distancing that caused the most economic pain in 1918. It was the disease.

You can see the relationship between non-pharmacologic interventions and economic activity in the figure below. The green dots are cities with early, aggressive social distancing. The red dots are cities with late or low-intensity social distancing. The vertical axis is the change in employment over the four years before and one year after the pandemic. The horizontal axis is the mortality rate. What the best-fit line shows is that cities that intervened early and aggressively not only experienced more economic growth over time, but also, in most cases, had far lower mortality rates.

social-distancing-effectiveness-graph.png

The United States is not a manufacturing economy today like it was 100 years ago, and these numbers look primarily at manufacturing output, which fell 18% during the influenza pandemic. The U.S. is primarily a service economy now. If that strikes you as a weakness of their analysis, the authors also looked at bank assets over the same time period, according to the intensity of the non-pharmacologic intervention (left; [e]), and the speed of the intervention (right; [f]):

graph-of-economy-growth-following-social-distancing.png

 The cities that intervened earliest and most aggressively were much more likely to experience an increase in wealth through the time of the influenza pandemic.

What lessons can we learn from 1918? We need to take the long view. Social distancing hurts now. Unemployment of 25% or even 30% is unprecedented in the last century, and we need strong actions by federal, state, and local governments, along with good work from charities and non-profit organizations, to get us through the hardest part of this pandemic. But we need to be very, very careful about when we relax social distancing. Many projections, like this one from Morgan Stanley, are already taking into account a “second wave” of infections this fall:

COVID-19-second-wave-graph-1024x532.png

 That second wave of infections is likely avoidable if we do the right thing now.

This paper, nor this blog post, have been peer reviewed. We at KBGH would love to know your thoughts on how and when we should modify social distancing for COVID-19.

When can your employees return to work?

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

As of the writing of this post, Kansas has 1,106 confirmed cases of COVID-19, enough cases that either you or someone you know likely knows an infected person. This, in turn, means many of us have been potentially exposed. Given the need for certain “critical infrastructure” workers to return to work after an exposure, CDC has released new interim guidance on returning to work. Keep in mind: this interim guidance does not apply to people who have been diagnosed with COVID-19; it applies only to people who have been exposed to someone with COVID-19 without proper personal protective equipment but has not been diagnosed with the disease.

In short, the CDC guidance statement says that exposed critical infrastructure workers—sixteen categories including law enforcement, 911 call center employees, fusion center employees, hazardous material responders, janitorial and custodial staff, and vendors in food, agriculture, critical manufacturing, informational technology, transportation, energy, and government facilities—can continue to work as long as certain conditions are met:

  • Employees’ temperatures should be taken and symptoms assessed before work resumes

  • Employees should regularly self-monitor for fever or symptoms, and if employees develop symptoms, they should not work

  • A face mask should be worn for 14 days since the most recent exposure, although there is evidence to support more widespread use, and this is reflected in a second CDC recommendation

  • Employees should maintain six feet of separation from one another if possible

  • Work spaces, particularly commonly touched areas, should be regularly cleaned and disinfected

If you are unsure whether your workforce belongs to a category within critical infrastructure, guidance can be found on the website of the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency within the Department of Homeland Security.

If you or an employee has been infected and was symptomatic (that is, not an asymptomatic carrier), CDC recommends one of two strategies to determine when to discontinue isolation and potentially return to work. Keep in mind these strategies take into account only the potential transmissibility of the virus and not the physical wellness of the infected patient. That is to say, just because someone is no longer contagious may not mean she is well enough to return to work:

1. A time-based, non-test-based strategy:

Persons with symptomatic COVID-19 who able to care for themselves at home may discontinue isolation if they meet all three of these conditions:

  • At least 7 days have passed since their symptoms first appeared and

  • At least 3 days (72 hours) have passed since their fever went away (without the use of fever-reducing medications like ibuprofen or acetaminophen) and

  • Their respiratory symptoms (e.g., cough, shortness of breath) have improved

2. A simplified test-based strategy:

Kansas still has a catastrophic lack of testing capacity, but if a patient is able to get re-tested, they may discontinue isolation if:

  • Fever has gone away (without the use of fever-reducing medications like ibuprofen or acetaminophen) and

  • Respiratory symptoms (e.g., cough, shortness of breath) have improved and

  • Two nasal swab specimens collected 24 hours apart are resulted negative.

To end the post on a positive note, the current statewide strategy of social distancing appears to be working. Kansas is on pace for peak resource use on April 20, but we are not expected to exceed our statewide ICU or hospital resources.

Please be safe and remember that we encourage you to check to make sure these recommendations are up to date before using them, since we learn more every day, and recommendations are changing fast. Be sure to check out and share Quizzify’s quizzes on coronavirus with your employees, which are reviewed by physicians at the Harvard Medical School. The quizzes are a fun and interactive way to learn about the virus, and they are continually updated as new information becomes available. If you have specific questions, please don’t hesitate to contact us.

Is social distancing...bringing us closer together?

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

If you’ve read as much as I have in the last few days about the COVID-19 pandemic, you’ve probably come across ominous-sounding warnings about social isolation or loneliness as a result of social distancing, our preferred short-term strategy to prevent the spread of the SARS-CoV-2 virus. Social isolation is the physical state of being alone, while loneliness is the feeling you get when your social interactions don’t meet your expectations; you can feel lonely in the middle of a crowded room, but you’re only socially isolated when you’re, well, socially isolated.

But both are bad for you. A 2017 systematic review showed that social isolation was associated with a 29% increased risk of death, while subjective loneliness was associated with a near-identical 26% increase in mortality. For perspective, a second meta-analysis in 2010 showed that “…by the time half of a hypothetical sample of 100 people has died, there will be five more people alive with stronger social relationships than people with weaker social relationships.”

As we have ramped up social distancing there has been legitimate fear that we would exacerbate the already-high rates of social isolation and loneliness, especially in elderly people. While it’s too early to say if that’s happening, I’ve been pleasantly surprised at my own experience. Just yesterday this meme came across my phone:

quarantine-meme.jpg

I found it so true. Now that many of us (but not healthcare workers, first responders, food delivery people, restaurant workers, mail carriers, or a hundred other “essential service” professionals and workers) are stuck at home during the day, it seems that we’re finding new strength and resilience just from getting out and moving in our neighborhoods and green space. I’ve talked to more neighbors on walks in the last three days than I had in the last three months, and not just because of warmer weather. Could it be that COVID-19 has begun a small restoration of what physician sociologist Nicholas Christakis calls the “social suite”: love, friendship, cooperation, and teaching, all from six feet away?

The evidence of increased investment in the social contract isn’t limited to the streets in my neighborhood. Young people are volunteering in large numbers to do things like deliver meals. So many retired doctors have offered to re-enter the workforce–at significant personal risk, considering many of their ages–that the Kansas State Board of Healing Arts has begun issuing emergency short-term licenses, and KAMMCO is issuing short-term liability insurance. Manufacturers in cycling, my favorite sport, are pivoting away from bike gear and toward the production of personal protective equipment. Congress is operating at a rare, near-normal level of functionality to give financial relief to millions of people (now if we could only get more testing resources). And I know that many of the readers of this blog, be they human resources professionals, insurance brokers, health administrators, or others, are working steadfastly to save as many jobs at their companies as they can in the face of an impending global economic catastrophe.

While you’re working hard on those things, don’t forget to work on these, too:

1. Look for ways to have “conversation-centric” interactions with people. Talk on the phone. Skype or FaceTime. Talk to people from your porch or from the street. As former Surgeon General Vivek Murthy says, “Smiling at someone–eye contact–is an act of service.”

2. Let kids around you continue to have unstructured play time with friends. Just keep them apart. Let them run around, ride bikes, and throw sand. Don’t let them wrestle or share toys.

3. If you’re still going to work, synchronize your coffee breaks with someone else. Common socializing like this has been definitively shown to be more restorative than snacking or emailing. If you can do it outside, even better.

4. Take time to express gratitude to others. Expression of gratitude is one of the most common indicators of life satisfaction in the US.

5. Volunteer. Organizational volunteering has been shown to be associated with a 24% reduction in mortality risk.

6. If you’re lucky enough to have some money to donate, do it. Spending money on others makes us far happier than spending it on ourselves.

COVID-19 is changing telemedicine for the better

As the Medical Director of the Kansas Business Group on Health I’m sometimes asked to weigh in on topics that might affect employers or employees. This is a reprint of a blog post from KBGH:

I’m typing this while on voluntary quarantine at the recommendation of the Kansas Department of Health and Environment because of a recent trip to Orange County, Florida. But like many of you, I’m managing to stay busy at home. One of the things I’m doing is providing “peer-to-peer” consultation to other doctors through a platform called RubiconMD [disclaimer: they pay me for the work, but not for advertising or testimony]. Doctors who subscribe to RubiconMD can forward me labs, imaging, and chart notes for patients with tricky hormonal and metabolic problems, and I type a recommendation back to them, potentially saving the trouble and expense of an in-person visit. These so-called “store-and-forward consults,” or “e-consults,” are one form of telemedicine, and they have proven effective enough–saving ~$500 per patient per year in one study–that they are now covered by Medicare.

The more well-known form of telemedicine in which practitioners and patients interact through a screen is referred to as “real-time” telemedicine. Other than the fact that the patient connects to the practitioner through a secure internet platform, telemedicine visits look a lot like traditional in-person medical visits: someone on the patient’s end (the “originating site,” in telemedicine parlance) collects vital signs, the doctor or other practitioner conducts an interview and, with the help of the ubiquitous high-resolution cameras on modern devices and a few on-site gadgets, performs a physical examination. Then the practitioner bills for the encounter as she would any other visit, albeit with a modifier attached to the billing to indicate that the visit was done remotely.

The average patient seen in-person at a physician office spends 121 minutes on the visit: 37 minutes traveling, 64 minutes waiting, and 20 minutes with the doctor. So if you think the idea of skipping the waiting line (not to mention all the coughing and touching) at your doctor’s office is attractive, you’re not alone. Telemedicine visits have a roughly 90% patient satisfaction rate. Kaiser Permanente has seen more patients via telemedicine than in-person since 2017. Local telehealth provider Freestate Healthcare and national providers Access Physicians and Eagle Telemedicine, among others, provide remote physician services at several rural hospitals with no doctors physically on site. In our work with CDC grants around diabetes prevention, we are running a trial of Omada, a virtual diabetes prevention program, to reduce the risk of high-risk patients developing diabetes. More than half of medical schools now offer required or elective training in telehealth to improve trainees’ “webside manner.”

And telemedicine has a growing body of evidence to support its use beyond reduced wait times and patient satisfaction. The Veterans Administration has found that telemedicine use corresponds to a 59% reduction in inpatient bed days and a 31% reduction in hospital admissions.

In spite of this rosy picture, the growth of telemedicine has been slowed by a regulatory system that is not designed for rapid change. Medicare, for example, has historically enforced a “site of service” requirement for telemedicine, meaning that patients seen via telemedicine still needed to travel to a hospital or doctor’s office to get linked to the distant telemedicine practitioner. Medicare has also mandated that patients must be located in a “health professional shortage area,” meaning that patients in areas with more physicians were ineligible to receive care via telemedicine, even if it was difficult for them to travel, and even if they had a highly communicable disease. Laws have mandated that the treating physician be licensed in the state where the patient was located, meaning a doctor licensed only in Kansas couldn’t historically see a patient in Oklahoma. And federal regulators have long restricted the technology that can be used for the interface. You couldn’t simply Skype or FaceTime your doctor, since those platforms were not compliant with the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA). This is not, on its face, an unreasonable policy; health data is valuable, so it is not hard to imagine it being the target of hackers.

There has been movement on this in the last year. Medicare Advantage plans began covering telemedicine visits from home earlier this year. But the current coronavirus pandemic is forcing faster changes, probably for the better. This week Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) suspended site-of-service requirements and state licensure requirements for telemedicine, and the Office for Civil Rights at Health and Human Services (HHS) announced that it would waive potential penalties for using lower-security forms of video communication for telemedicine. That is, any live video chat software is acceptable for now. This means that, at least in the short term, you can Skype or FaceTime your doctor (although we still recommend a more secure platform if your doctor can offer one). And you can do it from home. This policy is extending to other insurance carriers as well. I called Aetna, who informed me that they are allowing all visits (with the usual rules on copays and deductibles) to be performed via telemedicine for the next 90 days.

...once people get a taste of life with more easy access to telemedicine, I can’t imagine them going back.

If you or your company want to seek out such secure platforms, encourage patients to talk to their doctors about starting telemedicine visits. We at the Kansas Business Group on Health believe that care continuity is important. Urgent care centers and emergency departments have an important role to play, but encouraging patients to see their own doctors, rather than unaffiliated urgent care practitioners or cash-only telemedicine companies like Teledoc, is good for patients’ care and good for your bottom line. Freestate, Zoom, Doxy, VSee, and many other HIPAA compliant platforms are available to your employees’ doctors. They should consider asking specifically about any platform’s use of business associate agreements (BAAs) to certify there are safeguards against data breaches. Even though FaceTime is now technically allowed to be used as a telemedicine platform, for example, Apple will not sign a BAA. But Skype for Business, again for example, will.

I guess if you are the type of person who tries to find the bright side of things, this blog post is for you. This is just one way that COVID-19 is going to change medicine long-term. For the next few months, telemedicine access will become what its proponents have advocated for for years: a broad-based, broadly covered service that can be provided in the patient’s home on widely available, inexpensive software platforms. This is important not only in the context of a worldwide viral pandemic. It is important because once people get a taste of life with more easy access to telemedicine, I can’t imagine them going back.