By MATTHEW HOLT

I was invited on the Health Tech Talk Show by Kat McDavitt and Lisa Bari and I kinda ranted (go to 37.16 here) about why we don’t have primary care, and where we should find the money to fix it. I finally got around to writing it up. It’s a rant but a rant with a point!

We’re spending way too much money on stuff that is the wrong thing.

30 years ago, I was taught that we were going to have universal health care reform. And then we were going to have capitated at-risk entities. then below that, you have all these tech enabled services, which are going to make all this stuff work and it’s all going to be great, right?  

Go back, read your Advisory Board Company reports from 1994. It says all this.

But (deep breath here) — partly as a consequence of Obamacare & partly as a consequence of inertia in the system, and a lot because most people in health care actually work in public utilities or semi-public utilities because half the money comes from the government — instead of that, what we’ve got is this whole series of massive predominantly non-profit organizations which have made a fortune in the last decades. And they’ve stuck it all in hedge funds and now a bunch of them literally run actual hedge funds.

Ascension runs a hedge fund. They’ve got, depending who you believe, somewhere between 18 billion and 40 billion in their hedge fund. But even teeny guys are at it. There’s a hospital system in New Jersey called RWJ Barnabas. It’s around a 20 hospital system, with about $6 billion in revenue, and more than $2.5 billion in investments. I went and looked at their 990 (the tax form non-profits have to file). In a system like that–not a big player in the national scheme–how many people would you guess make more than a million dollars a year?

They actually put it on their 990 and they hope no one reads it, and no one does. The answer is 28 people – and another 14 make more than $750K a year. I don’t know who the 28^th person is but they must be doing really important stuff to be paid a million dollars a year. Their executive compensation is more than the payroll of the Oakland A’s.

On the one hand, you have these organizations which are professing to be the health system serving the community, with their mission statements and all the worthy people on their boards, and on the other they literally paying millions to their management teams.

Go look at any one of these small regional hospital systems. The 990s are stuffed with people who, if they’re not making a million, they’re making $750,000. The CEOs are all making $2m up to $10 million in some cases more. But it also goes down a long way. It’s like the 1980s scene with Michael Douglas as Gordon Gecko in Wall Street criticizing all the 35 vice presidents in whatever that company was all making $200K a year.

Meanwhile, these are the same organizations that appear in the news frequently for setting debt collectors onto their incredibly poor patients who owe them thousands or sometimes just hundreds of dollars. In one case ProPublica dug up it was their own employees who owed them for hospital bills they couldn’t pay and their employer was docking their wages — from $12 an hour employees.

Now despite the ACA hoping to change American health care, these hospital systems make all their money not by doing primary care, but by running their high intensity services — cardiology, neurology, orthopedics, general surgery and all the rest of it. They recruit superstar surgeons who keep the cash tills running—even if they came from doing quasi-fraudulent care down the street. And they’ve spent the last decade growing.

I used to think – and this was the intent of the ACOs under the ACA –that this would be sorted out by capitation and value-based care, but it just hasn’t happened. Hospital systems spent the last couple of decades growing by buying primary care doctors, running their practices at a loss and capturing all their referrals for the expensive procedural stuff. In fact there’s a term for this—they call it preventing leakage.

I’ve been looking at this for a while, and then the real crowning thing that pissed me off, the cherry on top of the sundae if you will, was the answer as to why do they have all this money in reserves, or in their hedge funds? Why does a small health system have $2 billion plus sitting in the stock market or sitting in cash? You know why? Well, presumably it’s there for a rainy day, right? When something bad happens, they have money and they can sustain themselves, to run their mission.

Well we had a rainy day starting in March, 2020. Inpatient and elective care got shut down under Covid and they all started losing massive amounts. What happened? They said, now we need a bailout. That was a huge part of the CARES Act.

The only two organizations I respected at that time were for-profit chain HCA and Kaiser Permanente who were given bailout money but  gave it back because they said they didn’t need it. But many more were like Commonspirit with 140 hospitals across the country, which got $1.5 billion. Hundreds of millions went to hundreds of these individual systems.

I haven’t done this scientifically, but we know that in their “reserves” Ascension has got $40 billion, UPMC has got $12bn, Kaiser’s got a ton as well. A medium sized systems like that RWJBarnabas in New Jersey’s has $2.5 billion, and one in Minnesota called Essentia, which I’d never heard of until last week, has more than $600 million in its reserves. There is probably $250 to $350 billion sitting out there on the balance sheets of every non-profit hospital in America. And if you chuck in the health plans, it’s probably way more. There’s likely an Apple or Google size cash mountain sitting out there

If you started American health care from scratch what would you do? You would give everybody primary care. If you look at the people who actually have been moving the needle on controlling hypertension and managing diabetes, it’s all people with a primary care approach, who spend a lot more money on primary care than on later stage specialty care for the people who already are sick.

I heard a great talk from Bob Matthews who works with an inner-city medical group with a mostly low income African America population, helping them manage hypertension. The best at doing this in the state of California is of course Kaiser where 70% of people with hypertension are within official guidelines and are “under control”. The state average is below 40%. But with this tough population Matthews’ group was at 94%. We know how to do it properly, but we don’t spend any money on it.

So how much do we spend on FQHCs which are basically primary care for poor people. I asked ChatGPT and the answer is $38 billion.

If my guess is correct there’s $300 plus billion in these hospital reserves sitting there not doing anything other than buying Nvidia stock and yet it costs only $38 billion a year to run the FQHCs. You could add another $38 billion a year for probably ten years just by confiscating all the reserves and the hedge funds of the rich systems–which they don’t seem to be doing anything with!

I understand that this is America. You will see no finer example of regulatory capture than the AHA and every single hospital in every single congressional district making sure that there is no such thing as a real assault on their balance sheet. And if things go in the least wrong, you know, they have all these employees and they’re very important for the local economy and yada, yada. And changing that is unbelievably difficult in America.

Bu at some point it’ll have to change.

Bob Matthews, who I mentioned earlier, is from a company called MediSync, which supports a bunch of primary care groups. They essentially use intelligent machines, telling the doctors which drugs the people with hypertension should be on and how they should be treated, and help the primary care docs match the patients to the guidelines. If you actually do that, you have a much better chance of actually helping people avoid the problems of hypertension, diabetes et al. There’s a bunch of stuff you have to do. It requires proper patient outreach and yada, yada, yada. It’s not easy, but you can do it. And we have failed to do it because more than half the people in this country don’t have access to a primary care doctor.

I remember at Health 2.0 years ago I asked Marcus Osborn why Walmart got into health care delivery. He said that they surveyed Walmart shoppers, asking how many of them had a primary care doctor? And about 60% of them said they have one, 40% said they didn’t have one. Then they asked the 60% what the name of their primary care doctor was, and half of them didn’t know it. So not much of a relationship there! So at that point they said, hang on, perhaps we should be investing in primary care. And that’s why Walmart, Walgreens, CVS et al are now in the primary care business — because they think there’s an opportunity because the current incumbents have done it so poorly.

And why would the current incumbent big health systems bother to do what Bob Matthew’s groups did? Because all they’re interested in is getting the expensive people into their facilities to do expensive stuff to them in order to generate money, which then ends up in their hedge fund.

This is so screwed up.

We’re spending so much more than anybody else. We do need hospital systems. We do need intensive inpatient stuff. We need to figure out how to fix cancer. But we need to do less of it and we need to pay less for all the stuff we’re doing. We’re spending way too much, when we’re paying 10 times what everybody else in the world is paying for drugs. They call it the free market. But there isn’t one. There’s price fixing and price setting.

Every other country does price setting. And we do price fixing by the companies who make Ozempic and Humira, and stents and hospital beds and then of course by the systems that provide all these services.

We shouldn’t be putting up with this. And expecting a free market approach to get it right means that we’re relying on people who haven’t figured it out for years. Like employers.

Healthcare is a regulated market. Our primary payer is the fricking federal government, it’s not the free market. I’m trying to connect the fact we need to spend money in places it’s not being spent while there’s this obvious source of money sitting there being managed by hedge fund guys.

Literally, the former CEO of Ascension actually moved over to the hedge fund and is paying himself like $12 million bucks a year to manage the investment. I mean, good luck to him. No one’s stopping him. But at some point, we’ve got to say, why do we allow this?

Because technically half the money in hospitals comes from the government. At least 50% of their activity is a public utility. If RWJBarnabas was a pure government organization would there be 28 employees making a million bucks a year? I sincerely doubt it.

So let’s have a real evaluation of what money is available and lets take it from the organizations that shouldn’t have it and put it in the place where it’s needed.

Matthew Holt is the publisher of The Health Care Blog

BY HANS DUVEFELT

In spite of all the talk these days about health care teams and in spite of more and more physicians working for bigger and bigger healthcare organizations, we are becoming more and more isolated from our colleagues and our support staffs.

Computer work, which is taking more and more time as EMRs get more and more complex, is a lonely activity. We are not just encouraged but pretty much forced to communicate with our nurses and medical assistants through computer messaging. This may provide more evidence of who said or did what at what point in time, but it is both inefficient and dehumanizing.

Why do people who work right next to each other have to communicate electronically? Why can’t my nurse simply ask me a question and then document “Patient asked whether to take aspirin or Tylenol and I told her that Dr. Duvefelt advised up to 2,500 mg acetaminophen/24 hours”. It would be a lot less work for me, even if I have to sign off on the darn thing.

And just because it now takes us longer to do our work, there is less slack our day. This makes for less curbside consults, less sharing of clinical experiences between clinicians, less social contact with other staff categories.

All this leads to professional and social isolation.

And, you know me, this reminds me of a James Taylor song, Millworker:

Then it’s me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
For the rest of the afternoon
And the rest of my life

Hans Duvefelt is a physician, author, and creator of “A Country Doctor Writes.”

BY HANS DUVEFELT

You don’t really need a medical degree to know how to follow an immunization schedule, to recommend a colonoscopy, or order a screening mammogram (as long as, in this country, there is a standing order – in some places, mass screenings are done outside the primary care system).

You also don’t really need a medical degree to enter data into an EMR.

And when you decide to order a test, how many of the EMR “workflow” steps really require your expertise? I mean, borrowing from my iPhone, you could say “order a CBC” and facial recognition could document that you are the ordering physician. Really!

And you don’t really need a medical degree to, as I put it, open and sort the (electronic) mail; an eye doctor’s report comes in and if the patient is a diabetic, I have to forward it to my nurse for logging, and if not a diabetic, just sign off on it. And don’t imagine there is time in our day, evening or weekend to actually read the whole report. Patient A saw their eye doctor – check. Next…

Primary care in this country is pathetically arcane and inefficient. And we have a shortage of primary care physicians, they say. If we could all practice at the top of our license, perhaps not. It’s time to reimagine, reinvent, reinvigorate!

Hans Duvefelt is a physician, author, and writer of “A Country Doctor Writes.”

As the average THCB reader is probably all too well aware I live in Marin County, California and therefore my kids are on amphetamine-based medication for ADHD. This is annoying as all get out because, as a controlled substance, this medication needs to be re-prescribed every month (no automatic refills allowed). In addition no 90 day supplies are allowed, and the kids must have checkups with their prescribing physician every 3 months (which are not cheap).

It’s not just prescribing which is complicated. Supply is an issue too and frequently pharmacies run out. This is furtherly frustrating because if one pharmacy is out it can’t move the Rx to another, even in the same chain like Walgreens or CVS. The new pharmacy requires a whole new prescription. I discovered last year that Alto Pharmacy, a VC backed home delivery pharmacy, will deliver controlled medications. This has saved me 12-24 visits to CVS in the past year.

But with a new year there are new problems. The “allowed” price, i.e. the price my insurer Blue Cross of Massachusetts had agreed with Alto Pharmacy (and other pharmacies) for the specific generic for one of my kids somehow went from $29 a month to $107. That’s the amount I actually pay until we hit our $4,500 family deductible. Incidentally because it’s a medication we still pay $10 a month after we hit the deductible.

Alto kept telling me that the cash price was around $50. But of course if we pay the lower cash price (either there or elsewhere using GoodRx) that doesn’t count against the deductible. So if we hit the deductible we are out the $50 (which works out to roughly $1200 per year for 2 kids). I kept asking Alto what had changed that made the cost go up? They kept not telling me an answer, other than it cost $107. I asked the good people at Health Tech Nerds slack group if they could guess what was going on. Their consensus was that the formulary tier had been changed. “But it’s a generic”, (I foolishly thought).

Finally I called the pharmacy number on BCBS Massachusetts website, and ended up talking to someone at CVS Caremark– their PBM. In the course of the 30 minute call they ran a dummy claim with several other pharmacies. All came back at the $107 number. They then looked up the formulary to see if it had changed. Meanwhile I looked at the formulary on the BCBS Mass website while this was going on. The medication was still tier 1. So why has the cost to me and perhaps to the Blues plan gone up from $29 a month to $107? (Yes that’s more than a factor of 3!)

While she was talking to me the Caremark rep was also able to Slack with several other colleagues–relatively advanced for an old world PBM I thought. Eventually the answer came back. The med was indeed tier one. But until we spent our deductible the med was tier 2. In other words if we were paying for the drug the price is $107. As soon as BCBS Massachusetts starts paying for it the price goes back to $29 (of which they only pay $19) as we have a $10 copay.

Why this has happened is beyond me? Is Caremark or BCBS Massachusetts suggesting another cheaper drug? I haven’t heard from them. Are they trying to discourage patients from getting to their deductibles? My cynical conclusion is that Caremark is trying to increase the revenue for CVS– its corporate pharmacy–which that accounts for 1/3 of all outpatient Rx.

Otherwise this pricing strategy makes no sense to me. Of course this is just another example of a completely opaque process. And that appears typical for American health care.

I had a little scare the other night. I was driving home from a weekend in the mountains and I asked my wife if she saw that flashing light. No it wasn’t the cops, and no she hadn’t seen it. Turns out that I had a bright flash if I moved my eye a certain way. Oh, well I assumed I was tired and a good night’s sleep would fix it.

Next morning the flash was still there when I looked quickly to the left and a few weird floaters had appeared. I headed to the Mayo Clinic website and it looked to me like I had a detaching retina. I got on the urgent visit video with One Medical. The NP who answered said it sounded like I might have retina problems and I should get it checked by my ophthalmologist. But my eyesight has always been great (other than me needing reading glasses in my old age) and I haven’t got one. So who, I asked, do you recommend?

Here we fall into the crux of the problem. One Medical is an excellent primary care service. So good that Amazon bought it for $3bn. But it’s not a multi-specialty group nor is it a system like Kaiser. The answer was, “we don’t really recommend anyone–that’s not how it works.” The NP ended up looking up ophthalmologists near me & sent me a name as a referral in their app. But that’s not a link to anything and it wasn’t one chosen through some analytical process of seeking quality excellence.

I looked up MarinHealth (my local hospital)’s website and searched ophthalmology. That referred name was on it. I called. The doctor was out this week. They gave me another name. That doctor’s office gave me another name and that third office could see me that same day. I felt some pressure to see them right away as in the case of a detached retina Mayo says “ Contacting an eye specialist (ophthalmologist) right away can help save your vision”. The good news is having spent a couple of hours at the ophthalmologist’s my retina needs watchful waiting not surgery.

But the bad news is that for me, like 90% of Americans, there’s no easy way to get referred into a trustworthy system for specialty care. This can be even worse. My friend Sarah McDonald explains in her book The Cancer Channel how, after being diagnosed with a rare incurable cancer by a head & neck surgeon, the all encompassing support she received was to be given the number of a specialist at UCSF who couldn’t even talk to her for 3 weeks.

Mike Magee talks about the role of the health care system being to reduce patients’ “fear and worry”. Our lack of a specialty care referral system, especially when potentially serious and urgent care is on the line, is a big reason why there is so much fear and worry. I wish I had a concierge advocacy system like Included Health or Transcarent which could get me to the right place and work with me through the experience. But like most Americans at the time I need reassurance the most I’m calling a list of phone numbers hoping someone can see me.

We have primary care, we have specialty care. But we don’t have a system that cares.

This was a special early in the day edition of #THCBGang. It was at 9.15am PT/ 12.15 pm ET (so if you are coming at 1pm it won’t be live today at the normal time as it’s already happened!). It was part of the Primary Care Transformation Summit which has been running since Monday and continues to the end of Friday. It’s a who’s who of everyone in primary care. You can check out the wider agenda but we were on immediately before the day 3 keynote from head of CMS Innovation, Liz Fowler.

Joining Matthew Holt (@boltyboy) to discuss primary care and more were are WTF Health host & Health IT girl Jessica DaMassa (@jessdamassa); futurist Jeff Goldsmith; & Dan O’Neill (@dp_oneill) who is now at primary care group Pine Park Health.

You can see the video below & if you’d rather listen than watch, the audio is preserved as a weekly podcast available on our iTunes & Spotify channels.

By HANS DUVEFELT

In some practices, patients with seemingly simple problems are scheduled to be seen by a nurse or medical assistant. Sometimes they can even just drop off a urine sample in case of a suspected urinary tract infection.

This is a dangerous trap. What if the patient rarely gets urinary infections, has back pain and assumes it is a UTI instead of a kidney stone or shingles on their back just where one kidney is located; what if they have lower abdominal pain from an ovarian cyst or an ectopic pregnancy?

Another dangerous type of “nurse visit” is when patients focus on one symptom or parameter, thinking for example that as long as their blood pressure is okay, their vague chest pressure with sweating and shortness of breath isn’t anything serious. It’s one thing if I want a couple of blood pressure checks by my nurse, but a whole different thing when it is the patient’s idea, assumption or self diagnosis.

In many cases, a telephone call with the provider or a triage nurse can be safer and more diagnostic than starting with a nurse visit. Because the symptom history is usually more important when making a diagnosis. And nurse visits tend to be skimpy when it comes to the clinical history, even though the provider assumes responsibility for the diagnosis and treatment of a patient they didn’t talk to or examine.

Seemingly simple things can sometimes be disasters waiting to happen. Nurse visits are not billable, only the dipstick urine test is in my first example. But the malpractice payout could be bigger than for a missed diagnosis made by a thorough clinician in good faith – if there was little clinical history and no physical exam done, not even eye contact between patient and treating physician.

Consider this analogy: How much less is a meal at the takeout window than inside the restaurant? The cost is usually the same and it certainly isn’t free.

A Happy Meal is a Happy Meal, no matter where or how you receive it. Diagnosis and treatment are not defined by their setting or visit charge.

Hans Duvefelt is a Swedish-born rural Family Physician in Maine. This post originally appeared on his blog, A Country Doctor Writes, here.

By HANS DUVEFELT

Almost two years into this new age of varying degrees of self quarantine, I am registering that my own social interactions through technology have been an important part of my life.

I text with my son, 175 miles away, morning and night and often in between. I talk and text with my daughter and watch the videos she and my grandchildren create.

I not only treat patients via Zoom; I also participate, as one of the facilitators, in a virtual support group for family members of patients in recovery.

I have reconnected with cousins in Sweden I used to go years without seeing; now I get likes and comments almost daily on things that I post. I have also video chatted with some of them and with my brother from my exchange student year in Massachusetts 50 years ago.

I have stayed in touch with people who moved away. And I have made new friends through the same powerful little eye on the world I use for all these things, my 2016 iPhone SE.

Members of my addiction recovery group stay in touch with each other via phone or text between clinics. They constantly point out the value of the social network they have formed, even though they only meet, many of them via Zoom, once a week. The literature has supported this notion for many years and is very robust: Social isolation is a driver of addiction.

It is also a driver of cardiovascular risk and is thought to be a risk factor of the same magnitude as smoking.

But, do new, online friendships mean as much for our health? This is probably a question that is too new to be answered. How many of these relationships can transition and deepen over time and through different stages of life? Suzanne Degges-White, PhD, writes cautiously about this in Psychology Today.

In 2017, pre-pandemic, Frontiers in Psychology reported that people who spent a lot of time on the Internet were more lonely than people who used the Internet less. But that was in a different era, when in-person relationships were a more practical and safe option than they are today. Back then, the heavy users of the Internet were possibly a self selected group for entirely different reasons than today’s high utilization demographic.

But with the fragile state of affairs, exemplified by the revolving door of new coronavirus mutations – of which Omicron is unlikely the last one – we probably need to make the most of whatever means we have to stay in touch with family and friends. Not so much that we neglect the necessary solitude we all need for introspection and self care, but enough to feel connected in some way to the human race.

Hans Duvefelt is a Swedish-born rural Family Physician in Maine. This post originally appeared on his blog, A Country Doctor Writes, here.

By HANS DUVEFELT

(Desperate times called for desperate measures.)

In the tech world, we have come to expect our devices to become outdated and obsolete very quickly. The biggest tech companies in the world didn’t even exist a few years ago. Bitcoin, a virtual currency which at least I can’t wrap my head around, seems to be more attractive than gold.

I get the sense most people embrace or at least accept the speed of change in tech.

But medical advances that occur rapidly are frightening to many people. Vaccine hesitancy, for example, involves concerns and characterizations like “unproven” and “guinea pigs”.

But can we as a society strive for and reward rapid progress in one area and reject it in another, especially if we feel threatened by outside forces or phenomena – be that a virus, climate change or the collapse of our economy’s infrastructure like supply chains and raw materials.

Tech has its own momentum, more driven by profit motives than altruistism or a desire just to make peoples lives better. Medicine clearly has profit as a driving force, but also a goal of improving life for people. Curing or mitigating disease must rank higher than making life more convenient.

But when a pandemic begins and its magnitude cannot be estimated, when the future of mankind and life on earth appear to be at stake – can we afford not to deploy the know-how and resources of medical science?

I am not an early adopter when it comes to drugs that claim to undo what people bring on themselves through their lifestyle choices. I’d rather nag them to do the non-drug things we know to be safe and effective. But facing a pandemic, what choice does mankind really have?

It seems easy now, a couple of years into the pandemic, to say that it isn’t as bad as it might have been. But we don’t know that for sure, we haven’t seen the end of it yet – the virus keeps mutating, in case anybody forgot.

You can’t stop innovation and we already live in a society where citizens are told to wear helmets, use seat belts, not drink and drive, not litter or pollute, not steal, rape or murder – and to get vaccinated before starting public school.

Freedom without concern for others is selfish. It breeds anarchy.

Hans Duvefelt is a Swedish-born rural Family Physician in Maine. This post originally appeared on his blog, A Country Doctor Writes, here.

By HANS DUVEFELT

The medication and allergy lists seem like they would be the most important parts of a health record to keep current and accurate. But we all see errors too often.

I think it shouldn’t be possible to enter an allergy without describing the reaction. Because without that information the list becomes completely useless.

The other day I saw a patient who needed an urgent CT angiogram. The allergy list said “All Contrast Materials”, which isn’t even “structured data entry”, and thus not recognized by the computer if my EMR (Me again, Greenway!) would have been clever enough to check for allergies when I order a CT scan.

After a lot of probing, the “allergy” in this case turned out to be a host of nonspecific, chronic symptoms after several lumbar CT myelograms in a short period of time many years ago.

Some people claim to be penicillin allergic because “it never works”. Others list ciprofloxacin or sulfa antibiotics because they get a yeast infection after taking them. Others were slightly nauseous after their first dose of an SSRI like fluoxetine or fatigued after starting gabapentin.

Some symptoms listed as allergies are poorly understood. For example, morphine causes itching in many patients, even skin manifestations like blushing as well as sweating. But this is not usually a histamine mediated symptom, and not an allergy. Other opioids, like hydromorphone, tend to have less risk for itching.

Cough from ACE inhibitors isn’t a true allergy, but we often note that in our allergy lists. People with this side effect can safely be switched to angiotensin receptor blockers, ARBs.

Angioedema from ACE inhibitors is an allergic and serious reaction with significant risk for cross-allergy also from ARBs. So it is essential to distinguish between the two in our allergy lists.

Medication and allergy history is one of the few things specialists look to us for. They often ignore and repeat the tests we had done, for example. But a good allergy history is something we can and should try to collect for every patient.

The big challenge is that patients often don’t remember the details of their allergies or side effects years after the fact. So, principle number one is to put down new reactions carefully when we hear about them.

My personal trick with new patients sporting long lists of proclaimed allergies is to ask: “Did you almost die from any of these medications I see listed as allergies?” That is the first step in a reality check about the real magnitude of their allergies.

The other list we could do better with is the PROBLEM LIST. Since we went electronic, it has bulked up and become much less helpful than it used to be. I just reread a post I wrote about that eleven years ago.

Hans Duvefelt is a Swedish-born rural Family Physician in Maine. This post originally appeared on his blog, A Country Doctor Writes, here.