Connect with us

Kaiser Health News

A Doctor’s Love Letter to ‘The People’s Hospital’

Published

on

by Dan Weissmann
Mon, 03 Apr 2023 09:00:00 +0000

Could a charity hospital founded by a crusading Dutch playwright, a group of Quakers, and a judge working undercover become a model for the U.S. health care system? In this episode of the podcast “An Arm and a Leg,” host Dan Weissmann speaks with Dr. Ricardo Nuila to find out.

Nuila’s new book, The People’s Hospital: Hope and Peril in American Medicine, uses the innovative model of the Ben Taub Hospital in Houston, where he practices, to argue for a publicly funded health system in the U.S. that’s available to everybody, with or without insurance. 

Dan Weissmann


@danweissmann

Host and producer of “An Arm and a Leg.” Previously, Dan was a staff reporter for Marketplace and Chicago’s WBEZ. His work also appears on All Things Considered, Marketplace, the BBC, 99 Percent Invisible, and Reveal, from the Center for Investigative Reporting.

Credits

Emily Pisacreta
Producer

Adam Raymonda
Audio Wizard

Afi Yellow-Duke
Editor

Click to open the Transcript

Transcript: A Doctor’s Love Letter to ‘The People’s Hospital’

Note: “An Arm and a Leg” uses speech-recognition software to generate transcripts, which may contain errors. Please use the transcript as a tool but check the corresponding audio before quoting the podcast.

Dan: Ben Taub Hospital is a publicly funded safety net hospital in Houston, Texas. The majority of patients don’t have insurance of any kind. 

Dr. Ricardo Nuila has been working at Ben Taub since he was an intern, a medical student. He took me on a tour.

Ricardo Nuila: I started here and, you know, literally I just did not want to leave here cuz I just, just really enjoyed my job here

Dan: He’s just published a book called “The People’s Hospital” that’s not just a love letter to the place, it’s a pitch: 

Not only is this place way, way cheaper than what we’re used to, in many ways it’s better. And it’s a model, a real alternative to what-we’re-used-to.

So, I ask him to pick ONE patient’s story from the book to tell, he picks a patient he calls Stephen. A restaurant manager, a Republican. A guy who did not expect to end up here.

But he had a giant lump on the side of his throat, and his insurance didn’t cover much. He paid cash, upfront, to get seen in a local ER. 

Ricardo Nuila: finally there was a doctor who had seen a CAT scan and said, you have tonsillar cancer, cancer, however, you don’t have, uh, insurance 

Dan: Tonsillar cancer. Cancer of the tonsils. That landed hard. So did the “however.” 

Ricardo Nuila: He felt shitty you know, that somebody could tell you cancer, but there’s nothing that we are gonna do about it because of, of how much and…

Dan: It’s like it’s too painful — or too obvious — to finish the sentence: Because of your insurance. Somebody tells Steven to try the public hospital, Ben Taub. He expects the worst. But that’s not what he finds.

Ricardo Nuila: He comes to love this place. He gives, this is like so Steven, but he, he gives gift cards to the people greeting at the door because they’re nice and they do their job well cuz they make his day,

Dan: And it’s not just that he likes the people at the door.

Ricardo Nuila: He feels like he got really good healthcare and that he also, um, thought that the price was extremely reason.

Dan: Stephen lost his insurance when he got too sick to work, and he doesn’t qualify for Medicaid. He owns a house, he’s got savings, Texas has really stringent Medicaid restrictions– so he’s paying out of pocket.

Ricardo Nuila: But his final bill is pennies of what he thought he would pay.

Dan: Stephen’s dad had gotten radiation treatment for cancer, and the sticker price was 700 thousand dollars. Stephen had gotten radiation AND chemo AND surgery — and had been hospitalized for a good while. 

His bill was 32 thousand, three hundred and seventy-eight bucks. Real money for sure, but he can pay it. And it’s less than five percent of his dad’s bill for much less extensive treatment. 

Ricardo Nuila: And the healthcare is really good. And so he’s almost proud that he’s had this experience

Dan: Steven’s become a convert. And as Ricardo Nuila walks me into a conference room, it’s clear: He hopes his book will create more converts. 

Ricardo Nuila: you start to see this model and it makes you think, can things be different in healthcare? I think that that’s an option. But we as a country haven’t thought about that. Seriously. You know?

Dan: And if it seems politically unimaginable that we could have anything like this around the country– an effective, efficient, CHEAP, publicly-funded health system– 

Well, the idea that Houston could have one, that was pretty unlikely too.

In fact, the story of how Ben Taub got here may be the most surprising story in Ricardo Nuila’s whole book. 

This is An Arm and a Leg, a show about why health care costs so freaking much, and what we can maybe do about it. I’m Dan Weissmann. I’m a reporter, and I like a challenge. So our job on this show is to take one of the most enraging, terrifying, depressing parts of American life and to bring you a show that’s entertaining, empowering and useful.

Ben Taub Hospital sits at the edge of the Texas Medical Center– that’s a giant neighborhood full of hospitals and medical schools, including some of the best in the country, like the M.D. Anderson cancer center. 

In his book, Ricardo Nuila writes about how some patients at Ben Taub can see from their rooms the gleaming buildings of Ben Taub’s neighbors. 

So when I visit, I make him show me the view. We look out from a stairwell at a glass tower, M.D. Anderson’s Sheikh Zayed building.

Ricardo Nuila: that’s glamorous. Right? you get a glimpse into the rest of the medical center here. Ben Taub sticks out, I feel like, because it’s, it’s brick versus glass. 

Dan: But as Ricardo Nuila makes clear in his book: This unglamorous brick building gets the job done. 

In addition to Steven, there’s Ebonie, whose complicated pregnancy — there’s a lot of vaginal bleeding– gets tracked more precisely than it would elsewhere: 

At other hospitals, nurses eyeball the pads that absorb that blood and note heavy, medium or light bleeding. At Ben Taub, they’ve adopted an innovative approach: weighing each pad to get an exact measurement. 

Another patient, Christian, has bounced around other systems without anybody accurately diagnosing the dire kidney problems that have kept him in pain for years. Because he didn’t have good insurance, it wasn’t worth anybody’s time. 

At Ben Taub, insurance isn’t an obstacle, 

Ricardo Nuila: We organize things, which is basically, okay, we need to focus on your kidneys right now and we need to get you to see a geneticist. And both of those things happened.

Dan: they not only diagnose him, they get him on a form of dialysis that he can manage himself at home.

It’s cheaper, and delivers better quality of life for him.

Everything at Ben Taub is cheaper. The system spends about a third as much per patient as the national average. In part, that may be because nobody earns million-dollar salaries here. 

But Ricardo Nuila makes the case over and over again that they take the time– because they have it– to make wise use of resources. 

They don’t have as many MRI machines as other hospitals. But guess what? A lot of patients don’t need MRIs. 

But Ben Taub can’t meet every need: One patient, Geronimo, needs a liver transplant, and that requires resources the hospital just doesn’t have. 

But Ricardo Nuila and his colleagues put a lot of time into wrenching him back onto Medicaid, so he can get the transplant somewhere else. They rope in a Congressman to get it done. 

Geronimo tells his mom:”I feel so important. Everyone treats me like I’m rich.” 

Ricardo Nuila: That’s what I think a lot of people really want is just the sense that the person who’s responsible for your care is thinking through the problem with you and aware that you are not having a great day and wants to deal with that situation with you. And I just felt like this environment allowed me to like, have those moments.

Dan: So who pays for this environment? It may be cheaper, but it isn’t free. 

Some patients are on Medicaid. Some are on Medicare. Some have private insurance. But the majority don’t have any insurance at all. 

Some, like Stephen, pay cash. And a lot of the rest — about a third of Ben Taub’s patients — are treated for free.

The bulk of Ben Taub’s funding comes from a special property tax in Harris County, where Houston is located. It funds a whole system called Harris Health– Ben Taub, a second hospital, and a bunch of clinics. 

And of course, none of this has always existed. 

In fact, it’s only here, like this, because of a really wild story, with two big characters. One of whom wasn’t even from Houston. He was a writer I’d never heard of, a Dutch guy named Jan de Hartog.

Ricardo Nuila: de Hartog was one of the most amazing people that you could read about. He was a Nazi resistance fighter, Dutch ship captain. 

Dan: And while he was hiding out in Denmark during the war– in between saving a few Jewish babies and running war missions in his tugboat–  

he wrote a romantic dramedy that — later became a broadway hit. And then got adapted into a Broadway musical called I Do, I Do– which, Broadway-musical nerds in the house– starred Mary Martin and Robert Preston– you know, The Music Man– and had a song that your mom might still remember. 

 (musical sounds) 

Dan: Yeah. So, interesting guy. And in the early 1960s he came to Houston to teach playwriting at a local University.  It was a big time for him. He’d just gotten married — for the third time, but this one was for keeps- and become a Quaker. 

Ricardo Nuila: And when he and his wife Marjorie come to Houston, they find that there’s all these whisperings about this charity hospital in town in Houston about how, how awful the conditions are. That the children in the maternity ward would cry all night for the, for a lack of milk, and so as part of his faith, he decides that he needs to volunteer there

Dan: When de Hartog writes about the hospital later, he describes the experience of walking in for the first time as literally mind-boggling. 

He’s like: I know what a hospital smells like. Disinfectant, maybe some fresh laundry. And I know what a slaughterhouse smells like: Blood, and shit. And the smell here is slaughterhouse. 

As he looks around, the sights are something else.

Ricardo Nuila: He sees a cockroach crawling into the tracheostomy of like a patient. He sees like people sitting in their own filth. 

Dan: He and Marjorie do not up and quit. They stick around. And then they recruit a dozen Quakers and a few society ladies to come volunteer with them, and get the Red Cross to train them.

And it’s nuts. This is a rich city. The ZOO is air conditioned. But not this hospital. 

And he starts to catch on: Why it’s so horrible.

Number one is racism. 

The hospital serves mostly Black and Brown patients. When Jan and Marjorie start volunteering, the other volunteers are all society ladies, and the whole program is set up so they don’t touch patients. DeHartog later says he asked why, and the volunteer coordinator says, Southern ladies can’t have physical contact with black people.

But she doesn’t say black people. She uses the n-word. 

 When he asks staff why public officials don’t do something about the rotten conditions, they say: What politician is going to stick up for black people? The n-word comes up again. 

And– de Hartog doesn’t make this connection, but it seems pretty on the nose: The hospital itself is named after Jefferson Davis, who led the Confederacy in the Civil War. 

But there’s also a political mechanism for institutionalizing this neglect, without ever having to acknowledge the role of racism: 

No one particular political entity — no one particular political leader– is responsible for the public hospital, financially. The city of Houston and Harris County are each supposed to kick in HALF. So it doesn’t belong to either of them. Here’s de Hartog describing the city-county dynamic in a lecture he gave many years later. 

Jan de Hartog: And they were continuously at each other’s throats. The one said, you don’t pay enough. The other said, but you don’t. And they went back and forth

Dan: The top official for Harris County actually has the title County Judge. At that time, this was a guy named Bill Elliott. 

And you’ll hear in this clip from a local newscast, he wasn’t exactly reaching for the bill. Here he is, explaining why the some problem with the hospital is actually the CITY’s fault. 

Judge Bill Elliott: it’s absolutely ridiculous, uh, to say that, uh, this is a responsibility and this is the fault of Harris County.

Dan: And the city? At least one.council member is calling for a budget cut. 

Which really pisses de Hartog off. 

And de Hartog actually loves the city. It’s an exciting place. It’s booming– growing super-fast. And it’s not just an oil town. 

Ricardo Nuila: Houston at that time was the home of NASA.

NASA narrator: Future manned space flight missions to the moon and perhaps the planets will be commanded from this control room of the Mission Control Center at NASA’s Manned Spacecraft Center,

Ricardo Nuila: It had built this Astrodome, it was the city of the future. 

Dan: The Astrodome– you know, a sports stadium WITH AIR CONDITIONING. . 

Astrodome Narrator: A fully enclosed building, large enough for any sport convention show or conclave with constant temperature and humidity independent of outside weather,

Dan: CBS News does a report about the booming city: NASA, the oil wealth, the Astrodome. And de Hartog is a main character– talking about how much he loves the town.

Jan de Hartog:  it is a city of, a city of unlimited opportunities. It’s an immensely exciting town, and you feel that anything is possible, 

Dan: It wraps up with Walter Cronkite talking about how everybody in town is absolutely nuts about football.

Walter Cronkite: Their brand of football is like their brand of city and brand of life. Play wide open. Take a chance, try anything. Above all, do it with zest and do it big. 

Dan: Oh, and there’s this OTHER thing Houston is really becoming known for. 

Cutting edge medicine. For twenty years, the city’s been building the Texas Medical Center — that giant campus where more than a dozen hospitals and med schools now operate right on top of each other. Baylor College of Medicine actually moved from Dallas to Houston to be part of it. 

Ricardo Nuila: Houston is a really deeply medical city. And at that time they’re all working on extraordinary things

Dan: Yeah, in 1964, while Jan de Hartog is witnessing the suffering at the charity hospital, Dr. Michael deBakey is performing the world’s first coronary artery bypass at a private hospital in town. 

But the medical establishment were not allies. Jefferson Davis hospital, on the outskirts of town, was about to be replaced by a new building in the Texas Medical Center. 

But the Medical Society– the local doctors’ association — hadn’t wanted the charity hospital as a neighbor. They’d actually put up a ballot initiative to keep the new building at the old site. 

Medical Society Voice-Over: you the taxpayer, will pay the extra cost That’s why your doctor recommends you vote for the new hospital to remain at its present site. 

Dan: It hadn’t worked, but along with the budget cuts, officials were now talking about DELAYING the charity hospital’s move to the new building, which had just been completed. De Hartog and his friends, smell a rat. 

They think the powers that be are actually going to sell the new building in the Medical Center to some other hospital that wants in. This has been a public conversation.

Jan de Hartog: There had been offers to buy it and they wanted to wait for the highest bidder

Ricardo Nuila: He writes a series of op-eds for the Houston Chronicle that start to get press, not just in Houston, but around the country and in fact around the world. 

Dan: He describes the awful things he’s seen. And he appeals to Houstonians’ sense of pride in their bustling, futuristic city. A city he loves, too. Here’s how his first op-ed ends…

Jan de Hartog: I cannot believe that it is the will of the citizens of Houston, that our growing medical center rightly becoming famous all over the. Shall be allowed to harbor the cancerous sore of man’s inhumanity to man. It would turn the entire center planned as Houston’s glory into Houston’s shame. 

Dan: Even just that first op ed made a lot of noise.

Jan de Hartog: the bomb exploded and the national magazines and newspapers and TV zeroed in on the hospital to find out what was going on, 

Dan: … and immediately, the hospital DOES move into its new home in the Medical Center. But the funding issue isn’t solved. 

So de Hartog keeps pushing. 

Ricardo Nuila: He writes a book called “The Hospital” 

Dan: He goes to churches around town, synagogues, everywhere he can, recruiting hundreds of volunteers. 

But there’s no political progress — and conditions at the hospital actually get worse. Key nurses get burned out and quit. Things go to hell.

In a harrowing diary entry, he writes about full bedpans left on tables next to trays of food. About a patient crying out for help, and hearing back “Shut up!” 

Jan de Hartog: Never before had I realized to this extent, the depth of our damnation, and at that deepest moment of desperation, when we knew nothing could be done, nothing would change for the simple reason that

Jan de Hartog: those who had the fate of the hospital in their hands were not there. Mayor Welsh didn’t work there. Uh, commissioner Bill Elliot Judge, the county judge did not work there. 

Dan: But THEN, there’s a turn. Somebody shows up. That’s right after this.

This episode of An Arm and a Leg is produced in partnership with Kaiser Health News. That’s a non-profit newsroom about health care in America. KHN is not affiliated with the giant health care player Kaiser Permanente. We’ll have more information about KHN at the end of this episode.

So, Jan de Hartog keeps slogging away. 

He gives a talk at a Baptist church– he reads that diary entry, the one with the bedpans, and the absence of Judge Elliott and other leaders.

And at first he thinks he didn’t go over so big. Nobody even raises their hand to volunteer. 

But then it happens. 

Jan de Hartog: When, uh, we were about to leave, a man turned up with a baby on his hip who said, uh, do you train people at night?

Dan: And the guy seems to be looking around, trying to make sure nobody’s listening. De Hartog tells the guy, yeah, we could do that…

Jan de Hartog: He said, I mean, a dead of night without anybody seeing. 

Dan: De Hartog’s like, “um, sure, I guess. Why, though?” 

Jan de Hartog: He said, well, I am Judge Elliot, 

Dan: Judge Elliott. The county judge. Probably the most powerful politician in town. That’s who wants to volunteer. In secret. Without anybody seeing. He says to de Hartog

Jan de Hartog: I cannot do it as a judge, but I must do it as a man. And that was the moment that the whole damn thing changed.. 

Dan: Because Judge Bill Elliott followed through.

Ricardo Nuila: He trains himself in a clandestine manner to be an orderly, at night, and he verifies everything that de Hartog has said. 

Dan: de Hartog actually oversees the judge’s final practical exam, where Bill Elliott tends to an African-American man named Willie Small. 

Jan de Hartog: the judge with his thermometer went and put his hand on Willie’s shoulder and said, Mr. Small, sir, I’d like to take your temperature to hear that, to hear a southern judge, , say “Mr. Small, sir” 

Dan: It was a symbolic moment. The judge had to touch, had to defer to, a Black man. So not only had the judge now seen everything, he took responsibility for what he had seen. 

There’s a proposal for a county-wide property tax, to fund what’s called a Hospital District. Now there’s a referendum, and Elliott backs it all the way.

Jan de Hartog: and we all waited with baited breaths for the outcome. And it was no

Dan: Yeah. The referendum fails. And as de Hartog tells it, once it does, a real backlash starts to build. It gets personal.

Jan de Hartog: those who had resented our presence from the very beginning became vocal. Margie and I, were called communists

Ricardo Nuila: De Hartog just would not flinch. I mean, he and his wife’s lives were threatened. 

Dan: Also, somebody threw a bag of excrement at their door. 

Eventually, de Hartog says the Red Cross, which was training and supervising volunteers at the hospital, came to him and Marjorie and said, “It might be better for us if you left town for a while.” 

They did — went on to all kinds of adventures. 

Meanwhile, Bill Elliott kept pushing, and keeps pulling in allies– including, eventually, the Medical Society. 

Ricardo Nuila: he rallies them to get behind it.

Dan: He gets the question on the ballot AGAIN later that same year. And it passes in November 1965. 

It’s a big moment. 

Ricardo Nuila:  What’s also interesting is that it’s forgotten. Something that I’ve gleaned from all this is that you know, people will forget and you have to remind them. 

Dan:  And while we’re remembering: In 1965, the whole country is making some big commitments to health care for a lot of people. President Lyndon Johnson signs Medicare and Medicaid into law in July of that year.

It’s probably also worth noting that Medicare and Medicaid help make Ben Taub possible: About a third of the hospital’s patients are on one or the other. It’s a minority of patients, but it’s many millions of dollars of funding. 

The 1960s were a notoriously divisive time. And so is this. 

Ricardo Nuila doesn’t ignore today’s political polarization — or how that polarization makes it hard to imagine a national conversation about creating a different health care system. 

Or the role that doctors have historically played in resisting that conversation.

It’s part of his story. His family story. And in a book about a place where a lot of sad things do happen, this may be the toughest one.

Ricardo Nuila: I was born into a family of doctors and my dad in many ways was a hero to me. I saw how much pride he took in his work of being a doctor 

Dan: But over time– as insurance companies got tougher to deal with– the business side of running a medical practice looked a lot less apealing. 

Ricardo Nuila: . He had to hire more and more staff. He hired his mother, my grandmother, who is, uh, the type of person not to back down from Chicago, you know, . And so, her job was to be on the insurance companies to make sure that they wouldn’t, screw him out of money.

Dan: His dad turned away patients who didn’t have insurance. His dad growled and grumbled– about insurance companies, and about patients who didn’t have money to pay. 

When Ricardo finished college and got into medical school, he put off starting for two years. What he sees as his dad’s life in the business of health care is not appealing.

Ricardo Nuila: the grind wears on him, you know? The fighting with the insurance companies

Dan: I mean in the book, your dad is a bit of a stand-in for . For doctors as a doctoring, as profession and the, and the way in which doctors get alienated from medicine. 

Ricardo Nuila: yeah, he is a stand in a bit for doctors. And it’s gonna be, I think the doctors have a lot to say about how healthcare goes in America,

Ricardo Nuila: And unfortunately, the history shows that they haven’t been a great piece of that, at least as far as universal healthcare is concerned. 

Dan: This becomes part of Ricardo’s story with his dad. Dad invites him to form a family practice. Ricardo chooses Ben Taub. And over the years, it becomes clear: They’re on opposite sides of a political divide. There are painful conversations, and then they go months without speaking. 

Ricardo Nuila: that’s how deep politics run, you know, it’s really, it’s really difficult when you overlay like politics onto like a family dynamic,

Ricardo Nuila: It just felt like he was like totally on board with this idea that, you know, healthcare is something that is earned and healthcare is something that people, if you can’t afford it, you don’t deserve it. Is what I heard from what he was saying. 

Dan: is your dad an ideal reader of the book? Is your dad kind of who the person you wanna make that case to? 

Ricardo Nuila: That’s really interesting.

Ricardo Nuila: I would say this, that, I did not write this to preach to the choir for sure.

Dan: But he’s not sure his dad would actually pick up a book like this.

Ricardo Nuila: It’s just because I know my dad, he, my dad’s the type of person who reads John Grisham on a beach, you know? So I’m not a hundred percent sure if he would pick up this book, you know?

Dan: Unless, say, his son wrote it. Ricardo does expect his dad to read The People’s Hospital. And even if he doesn’t agree with everything his son has written, Ricardo thinks his dad will be proud.

Ricardo Nuila: I can tell you now as a, as a father, , it’s not clear that your kids are gonna come out Okay. . You know what I mean? I’m just saying that like he has reason to be proud just because I’m a, a living and breathing person right now, you know?

Ricardo Nuila: And I’m, I’m working in as a doctor. So I, I feel, I feel good for him. 

Ricardo Nuila: And I think that he’s probably very happy that I wrote about medicine cuz he loves medicine.

Dan: The last chapter of “The People’s Hospital” is called “faith” And in it, Ricardo Nuila describes a daily ritual that he says keeps him grounded. It starts with passing a plaque on his way in. Of course I have him show it to me. 

Ricardo Nuila: I park like right over there, .

Ricardo Nuila: I come in here and I just look at, look at this every time. 

Dan: So, and describe what we’re seeing here.

Ricardo Nuila: Well, we’re seeing, a plaque that, talks about when this hospital was founded, and the people who constructed the building. And there’s also the, I forgot this is, this is bad of me, but I forgot the name.

Dan: the snake around the stick?  

Ricardo Nuila: I’m in big trouble now because I’m on the Caduceus Caduceus. I, it’s the Cadus. Yeah. 

Ricardo Nuila: And it’s just a reminder, you know, that we have this structure in place to help care for people who don’t have, uh, the means and that, and 

Dan: that people decided to put this building here. Yeah. 

Ricardo Nuila: Exactly. It’s a community effort.

Dan: Ricardo Nuila writes that he sees that community as he walks from that plaque to his desk– all the co-workers, in every kind of job, doing their best. 

And this is the faith that he says gets affirmed— reading from the book here: 

If someone is suffering and there is the capacity within the community to help, in a way that doesn’t harm anyone else, then we not only owe it to that person, we owe it to ourselves to help. 

Whatever your politics are, I think that’s pretty great. 

Dr. Ricardo Nuila practices at Ben Taub Hospital. He’s associate professor of Medicine, Medical Ethics and Health Policy at Baylor College of Medicine. His book is called “The People’s Hospital.”

Honestly there’s a lot in this book, — more patient stories, more family stories, a very deft summary of a hundred years of health care economics and politics.

I’ll tell you: reading this book, I was reminded of an idea I’ve had before.  That it might be cool someday to convene a kind of “Arm and a Leg” book club. Because I’d like to have someone to talk with about a book like this– like maybe you. 

Right now, that’s just an idea. The how would take a LOT of figuring out.  

But I’m curious how that idea sounds to you. You can let me know at Arm and a Leg show dot com, slash contact.

I mean, that’s always a good place to send ideas and stories and questions— so many of our best episodes come from you.

And I’m curious what you think about this virtual book club idea. If you’ve taken part in something like this, or helped to organize it, I’d love to hear how it went.

That’s arm and a leg show dot com, slash contact.

Next time on An Arm and a Leg: A woman named Lisa French asked her hospital what her surgery would cost her. They said, with your insurance, about thirteen hundred bucks.

They expected about 55 thousand more from insurance. 

They got 75 thousand. But then they wanted more. 229 thousand more. They wanted it from Lisa French, and they sued her for it.

After eight years, the case finally got resolved last June. Lisa French won!

The case has a LOT to teach us about our legal rights. 

That’s next time on An Arm and a Leg.

Till then, take care of yourself.

This episode of An Arm and a Leg was produced by me, Dan Weissmann, with help from Emily Pisacreta, and edited by Afi Yellow-Duke.

The recording of Jan de Hartog’s lecture is courtesy of the Baylor College of Medicine Archives. 

The audio of Bill Elliott is from a KHOU-TV newscast, thanks to the Texas Archive of the Moving Image.

Big thanks to the archivists who helped us find some of the tape for this episode! 

That includes Emily Vinson at the University of Houston library 

Matt Richardson and Sandra Yates at the Texas Medical Center Archives

And David Olmos at the Baylor College of Medicine archives. 

Daisy Rosario is our consulting managing producer. Adam Raymonda is our audio wizard.  Our music is by Dave Winer and Blue Dot Sessions. 

Gabrielle Healy is our managing editor for audience. She edits the First Aid Kit Newsletter. 

Bea Bosco is our consulting director of operations. Sarah Ballema is our operations manager. 

This season of an arm and a leg is a co production with Kaiser health news. That’s a nonprofit news service about healthcare in America, an editorially-independent program of the Kaiser family foundation. 

KHN is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente, the big healthcare outfit. They share an ancestor: The 20th century industrialist Henry J Kaiser. When he died, he left half his money to the foundation that later created Kaiser health news.

You can learn more about him and Kaiser health news at arm and a leg show dot com slash Kaiser. 

Zach Dyer is senior audio producer at KHN. He is editorial liaison to this show. 

Thanks to Public Narrative — That’s a Chicago-based group that helps journalists and non-profits tell better stories– for serving as our fiscal sponsor, allowing us to accept tax-exempt donations. You can learn more about Public Narrative at www dot public narrative dot org. 

And thanks to everybody who supports this show financially. 

If you haven’t yet, we’d love for you to join us. The place for that is arm and a leg show dot com, slash support.

Thank you!

“An Arm and a Leg” is a co-production of KHN and Public Road Productions.

To keep in touch with “An Arm and a Leg,” subscribe to the newsletter. You can also follow the show on Facebook and Twitter. And if you’ve got stories to tell about the health care system, the producers would love to hear from you.

To hear all KHN podcasts, click here.

And subscribe to “An Arm and a Leg” on SpotifyApple PodcastsStitcherPocket Casts, or wherever you listen to podcasts.

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

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

By: Dan Weissmann
Title: A Doctor’s Love Letter to ‘The People’s Hospital’
Sourced From: khn.org/news/podcast/a-doctors-love-letter-to-the-peoples-hospital/
Published Date: Mon, 03 Apr 2023 09:00:00 +0000

Kaiser Health News

US Judge Names Receiver To Take Over California Prisons’ Mental Health Program

Published

on

kffhealthnews.org – Don Thompson – 2025-03-20 12:46:00

SACRAMENTO, Calif. — A judge has initiated a federal court takeover of California’s troubled prison mental health system by naming the former head of the Federal Bureau of Prisons to serve as receiver, giving her four months to craft a plan to provide adequate care for tens of thousands of prisoners with serious mental illness.

Senior U.S. District Judge Kimberly Mueller issued her order March 19, identifying Colette Peters as the nominated receiver. Peters, who was Oregon’s first female corrections director and known as a reformer, ran the scandal-plagued federal prison system for 30 months until President Donald Trump took office in January. During her tenure, she closed a women’s prison in Dublin, east of Oakland, that had become known as the “rape club.”

Michael Bien, who represents prisoners with mental illness in the long-running prison lawsuit, said Peters is a good choice. Bien said Peters’ time in Oregon and Washington, D.C., showed that she “kind of buys into the fact that there are things we can do better in the American system.”

“We took strong objection to many things that happened under her tenure at the BOP, but I do think that this is a different job and she’s capable of doing it,” said Bien, whose firm also represents women who were housed at the shuttered federal women’s prison.

California corrections officials called Peters “highly qualified” in a statement, while Gov. Gavin Newsom’s office did not immediately comment. Mueller gave the parties until March 28 to show cause why Peters should not be appointed.

Peters is not talking to the media at this time, Bien said. The judge said Peters is to be paid $400,000 a year, prorated for the four-month period.

About 34,000 people incarcerated in California prisons have been diagnosed with serious mental illnesses, representing more than a third of California’s prison population, who face harm because of the state’s noncompliance, Mueller said.

Appointing a receiver is a rare step taken when federal judges feel they have exhausted other options. A receiver took control of Alabama’s correctional system in 1976, and they have otherwise been used to govern prisons and jails only about a dozen times, mostly to combat poor conditions caused by overcrowding. Attorneys representing inmates in Arizona have asked a judge to take over prison health care there.

Mueller’s appointment of a receiver comes nearly 20 years after a different federal judge seized control of California’s prison medical system and installed a receiver, currently J. Clark Kelso, with broad powers to hire, fire, and spend the state’s money.

California officials initially said in August that they would not oppose a receivership for the mental health program provided that the receiver was also Kelso, saying then that federal control “has successfully transformed medical care” in California prisons. But Kelso withdrew from consideration in September, as did two subsequent candidates. Kelso said he could not act “zealously and with fidelity as receiver in both cases.”

Both cases have been running for so long that they are now overseen by a second generation of judges. The original federal judges, in a legal battle that reached the U.S. Supreme Court, more than a decade ago forced California to significantly reduce prison crowding in a bid to improve medical and mental health care for incarcerated people.

State officials in court filings defended their improvements over the decades. Prisoners’ attorneys countered that treatment remains poor, as evidenced in part by the system’s record-high suicide rate, topping 31 suicides per 100,000 prisoners, nearly double that in federal prisons.

“More than a quarter of the 30 class-members who died by suicide in 2023 received inadequate care because of understaffing,” prisoners’ attorneys wrote in January, citing the prison system’s own analysis. One prisoner did not receive mental health appointments for seven months “before he hanged himself with a bedsheet.”

They argued that the November passage of a ballot measure increasing criminal penalties for some drug and theft crimes is likely to increase the prison population and worsen staffing shortages.

California officials argued in January that Mueller isn’t legally justified in appointing a receiver because “progress has been slow at times but it has not stalled.”

Mueller has countered that she had no choice but to appoint an outside professional to run the prisons’ mental health program, given officials’ intransigence even after she held top officials in contempt of court and levied fines topping $110 million in June. Those extreme actions, she said, only triggered more delays.

The 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals on March 19 upheld Mueller’s contempt ruling but said she didn’t sufficiently justify calculating the fines by doubling the state’s monthly salary savings from understaffing prisons. It upheld the fines to the extent that they reflect the state’s actual salary savings but sent the case back to Mueller to justify any higher penalty.

Mueller had been set to begin additional civil contempt proceedings against state officials for their failure to meet two other court requirements: adequately staffing the prison system’s psychiatric inpatient program and improving suicide prevention measures. Those could bring additional fines topping tens of millions of dollars.

But she said her initial contempt order has not had the intended effect of compelling compliance. Mueller wrote as far back as July that additional contempt rulings would also be likely to be ineffective as state officials continued to appeal and seek delays, leading “to even more unending litigation, litigation, litigation.”

She went on to foreshadow her latest order naming a receiver in a preliminary order: “There is one step the court has taken great pains to avoid. But at this point,” Mueller wrote, “the court concludes the only way to achieve full compliance in this action is for the court to appoint its own receiver.”

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

The post US Judge Names Receiver To Take Over California Prisons’ Mental Health Program appeared first on kffhealthnews.org

Continue Reading

Kaiser Health News

Amid Plummeting Diversity at Medical Schools, a Warning of DEI Crackdown’s ‘Chilling Effect’

Published

on

kffhealthnews.org – Annie Sciacca – 2025-03-20 04:00:00

The Trump administration’s crackdown on DEI programs could exacerbate an unexpectedly steep drop in diversity among medical school students, even in states like California, where public universities have been navigating bans on affirmative action for decades. Education and health experts warn that, ultimately, this could harm patient care.

Since taking office, President Donald Trump has issued a handful of executive orders aimed at terminating all diversity, equity, and inclusion, or DEI, initiatives in federally funded programs. And in his March 4 address to Congress, he described the Supreme Court’s 2023 decision banning the consideration of race in college and university admissions as “brave and very powerful.”

Last month, the Education Department’s Office for Civil Rights — which lost about 50% of its staff in mid-March — directed schools, including postsecondary institutions, to end race-based programs or risk losing federal funding. The “Dear Colleague” letter cited the Supreme Court’s decision.

Paulette Granberry Russell, president and CEO of the National Association of Diversity Officers in Higher Education, said that “every utterance of ‘diversity’ is now being viewed as a violation or considered unlawful or illegal.” Her organization filed a lawsuit challenging Trump’s anti-DEI executive orders.

While California and eight other states — Arizona, Florida, Idaho, Michigan, Nebraska, New Hampshire, Oklahoma, and Washington — had already implemented bans of varying degrees on race-based admissions policies well before the Supreme Court decision, schools bolstered diversity in their ranks with equity initiatives such as targeted scholarships, trainings, and recruitment programs.

But the court’s decision and the subsequent state-level backlash — 29 states have since introduced bills to curb diversity initiatives, according to data published by the Chronicle of Higher Education — have tamped down these efforts and led to the recent declines in diversity numbers, education experts said.

After the Supreme Court’s ruling, the numbers of Black and Hispanic medical school enrollees fell by double-digit percentages in the 2024-25 school year compared with the previous year, according to the Association of American Medical Colleges. Black enrollees declined 11.6%, while the number of new students of Hispanic origin fell 10.8%. The decline in enrollment of American Indian or Alaska Native students was even more dramatic, at 22.1%. New Native Hawaiian or other Pacific Islander enrollment declined 4.3%.

“We knew this would happen,” said Norma Poll-Hunter, AAMC’s senior director of workforce diversity. “But it was double digits — much larger than what we anticipated.”

The fear among educators is the numbers will decline even more under the new administration.

At the end of February, the Education Department launched an online portal encouraging people to “report illegal discriminatory practices at institutions of learning,” stating that students should have “learning free of divisive ideologies and indoctrination.” The agency later issued a “Frequently Asked Questions” document about its new policies, clarifying that it was acceptable to observe events like Black History Month but warning schools that they “must consider whether any school programming discourages members of all races from attending.”

“It definitely has a chilling effect,” Poll-Hunter said. “There is a lot of fear that could cause institutions to limit their efforts.”

Numerous requests for comment from medical schools about the impact of the anti-DEI actions went unreturned. University presidents are staying mum on the issue to protect their institutions, according to reporting from The New York Times.

Utibe Essien, a physician and UCLA assistant professor, said he has heard from some students who fear they won’t be considered for admission under the new policies. Essien, who co-authored a study on the effect of affirmative action bans on medical schools, also said students are worried medical schools will not be as supportive toward students of color as in the past.

“Both of these fears have the risk of limiting the options of schools folks apply to and potentially those who consider medicine as an option at all,” Essien said, adding that the “lawsuits around equity policies and just the climate of anti-diversity have brought institutions to this place where they feel uncomfortable.”

In early February, the Pacific Legal Foundation filed a lawsuit against the University of California-San Francisco’s Benioff Children’s Hospital Oakland over an internship program designed to introduce “underrepresented minority high school students to health professions.”

Attorney Andrew Quinio filed the suit, which argues that its plaintiff, a white teenager, was not accepted to the program after disclosing in an interview that she identified as white.

“From a legal standpoint, the issue that comes about from all this is: How do you choose diversity without running afoul of the Constitution?” Quinio said. “For those who want diversity as a goal, it cannot be a goal that is achieved with discrimination.”

UC Health spokesperson Heather Harper declined to comment on the suit on behalf of the hospital system.

Another lawsuit filed in February accuses the University of California of favoring Black and Latino students over Asian American and white applicants in its undergraduate admissions. Specifically, the complaint states that UC officials pushed campuses to use a “holistic” approach to admissions and “move away from objective criteria towards more subjective assessments of the overall appeal of individual candidates.”

The scrutiny of that approach to admissions could threaten diversity at the UC-Davis School of Medicine, which for years has employed a “race-neutral, holistic admissions model” that reportedly tripled enrollment of Black, Latino, and Native American students.

“How do you define diversity? Does it now include the way we consider how someone’s lived experience may be influenced by how they grew up? The type of school, the income of their family? All of those are diversity,” said Granberry Russell, of the National Association of Diversity Officers in Higher Education. “What might they view as an unlawful proxy for diversity equity and inclusion? That’s what we’re confronted with.”

California Attorney General Rob Bonta, a Democrat, recently joined other state attorneys general to issue guidance urging that schools continue their DEI programs despite the federal messaging, saying that legal precedent allows for the activities. California is also among several states suing the administration over its deep cuts to the Education Department.

If the recent decline in diversity among newly enrolled students holds or gets worse, it could have long-term consequences for patient care, academic experts said, pointing toward the vast racial disparities in health outcomes in the U.S., particularly for Black people.

A higher proportion of Black primary care doctors is associated with longer life expectancy and lower mortality rates among Black people, according to a 2023 study published by the JAMA Network.

Physicians of color are also more likely to build their careers in medically underserved communities, studies have shown, which is increasingly important as the AAMC projects a shortage of up to 40,400 primary care doctors by 2036.

“The physician shortage persists, and it’s dire in rural communities,” Poll-Hunter said. “We know that diversity efforts are really about improving access for everyone. More diversity leads to greater access to care — everyone is benefiting from it.”

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

The post Amid Plummeting Diversity at Medical Schools, a Warning of DEI Crackdown’s ‘Chilling Effect’ appeared first on kffhealthnews.org

Continue Reading

Kaiser Health News

Tribal Health Leaders Say Medicaid Cuts Would Decimate Health Programs

Published

on

kffhealthnews.org – Jazmin Orozco Rodriguez – 2025-03-19 04:00:00

As Congress mulls potentially massive cuts to federal Medicaid funding, health centers that serve Native American communities, such as the Oneida Community Health Center near Green Bay, Wisconsin, are bracing for catastrophe.

That’s because more than 40% of the about 15,000 patients the center serves are enrolled in Medicaid. Cuts to the program would be detrimental to those patients and the facility, said Debra Danforth, the director of the Oneida Comprehensive Health Division and a citizen of the Oneida Nation.

“It would be a tremendous hit,” she said.

The facility provides a range of services to most of the Oneida Nation’s 17,000 people, including ambulatory care, internal medicine, family practice, and obstetrics. The tribe is one of two in Wisconsin that have an “open-door policy,” Danforth said, which means that the facility is open to members of any federally recognized tribe.

But Danforth and many other tribal health officials say Medicaid cuts would cause service reductions at health facilities that serve Native Americans.

Indian Country has a unique relationship to Medicaid, because the program helps tribes cover chronic funding shortfalls from the Indian Health Service, the federal agency responsible for providing health care to Native Americans.

Medicaid has accounted for about two-thirds of third-party revenue for tribal health providers, creating financial stability and helping facilities pay operational costs. More than a million Native Americans enrolled in Medicaid or the closely related Children’s Health Insurance Program also rely on the insurance to pay for care outside of tribal health facilities without going into significant medical debt. Tribal leaders are calling on Congress to exempt tribes from cuts and are preparing to fight to preserve their access.

“Medicaid is one of the ways in which the federal government meets its trust and treaty obligations to provide health care to us,” said Liz Malerba, director of policy and legislative affairs for the United South and Eastern Tribes Sovereignty Protection Fund, a nonprofit policy advocacy organization for 33 tribes spanning from Texas to Maine. Malerba is a citizen of the Mohegan Tribe.

“So we view any disruption or cut to Medicaid as an abrogation of that responsibility,” she said.

Tribes face an arduous task in providing care to a population that experiences severe health disparities, a high incidence of chronic illness, and, at least in western states, a life expectancy of 64 years — the lowest of any demographic group in the U.S. Yet, in recent years, some tribes have expanded access to care for their communities by adding health services and providers, enabled in part by Medicaid reimbursements.

During the last two fiscal years, five urban Indian organizations in Montana saw funding growth of nearly $3 million, said Lisa James, director of development for the Montana Consortium for Urban Indian Health, during a webinar in February organized by the Georgetown University Center for Children and Families and the National Council of Urban Indian Health.

The increased revenue was “instrumental,” James said, allowing clinics in the state to add services that previously had not been available unless referred out for, including behavioral health services. Clinics were also able to expand operating hours and staffing.

Montana’s five urban Indian clinics, in Missoula, Helena, Butte, Great Falls, and Billings, serve 30,000 people, including some who are not Native American or enrolled in a tribe. The clinics provide a wide range of services, including primary care, dental care, disease prevention, health education, and substance use prevention.

James said Medicaid cuts would require Montana’s urban Indian health organizations to cut services and limit their ability to address health disparities.

American Indian and Alaska Native people under age 65 are more likely to be uninsured than white people under 65, but 30% rely on Medicaid compared with 15% of their white counterparts, according to KFF data for 2017 to 2021. More than 40% of American Indian and Alaska Native children are enrolled in Medicaid or CHIP, which provides health insurance to kids whose families are not eligible for Medicaid. KFF is a health information nonprofit that includes KFF Health News.

A Georgetown Center for Children and Families report from January found the share of residents enrolled in Medicaid was higher in counties with a significant Native American presence. The proportion on Medicaid in small-town or rural counties that are mostly within tribal statistical areas, tribal subdivisions, reservations, and other Native-designated lands was 28.7%, compared with 22.7% in other small-town or rural counties. About 50% of children in those Native areas were enrolled in Medicaid.

The federal government has already exempted tribes from some of Trump’s executive orders. In late February, Department of Health and Human Services acting general counsel Sean Keveney clarified that tribal health programs would not be affected by an executive order that diversity, equity, and inclusion government programs be terminated, but that the Indian Health Service is expected to discontinue diversity and inclusion hiring efforts established under an Obama-era rule.

HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. also rescinded the layoffs of more than 900 IHS employees in February just hours after they’d received termination notices. During Kennedy’s Senate confirmation hearings, he said he would appoint a Native American as an assistant HHS secretary. The National Indian Health Board, a Washington, D.C.-based nonprofit that advocates for tribes, in December endorsed elevating the director of the Indian Health Service to assistant secretary of HHS.

Jessica Schubel, a senior health care official in Joe Biden’s White House, said exemptions won’t be enough.

“Just because Native Americans are exempt doesn’t mean that they won’t feel the impact of cuts that are made throughout the rest of the program,” she said.

State leaders are also calling for federal Medicaid spending to be spared because cuts to the program would shift costs onto their budgets. Without sustained federal funding, which can cover more than 70% of costs, state lawmakers face decisions such as whether to change eligibility requirements to slim Medicaid rolls, which could cause some Native Americans to lose their health coverage.

Tribal leaders noted that state governments do not have the same responsibility to them as the federal government, yet they face large variations in how they interact with Medicaid depending on their state programs.

President Donald Trump has made seemingly conflicting statements about Medicaid cuts, saying in an interview on Fox News in February that Medicaid and Medicare wouldn’t be touched. In a social media post the same week, Trump expressed strong support for a House budget resolution that would likely require Medicaid cuts.

The budget proposal, which the House approved in late February, requires lawmakers to cut spending to offset tax breaks. The House Committee on Energy and Commerce, which oversees spending on Medicaid and Medicare, is instructed to slash $880 billion over the next decade. The possibility of cuts to the program that, together with CHIP, provides insurance to 79 million people has drawn opposition from national and state organizations.

The federal government reimburses IHS and tribal health facilities 100% of billed costs for American Indian and Alaska Native patients, shielding state budgets from the costs.

Because Medicaid is already a stopgap fix for Native American health programs, tribal leaders said it won’t be a matter of replacing the money but operating with less.

“When you’re talking about somewhere between 30% to 60% of a facility’s budget is made up by Medicaid dollars, that’s a very difficult hole to try and backfill,” said Winn Davis, congressional relations director for the National Indian Health Board.

Congress isn’t required to consult tribes during the budget process, Davis added. Only after changes are made by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services and state agencies are tribes able to engage with them on implementation.

The amount the federal government spends funding the Native American health system is a much smaller portion of its budget than Medicaid. The IHS projected billing Medicaid about $1.3 billion this fiscal year, which represents less than half of 1% of overall federal spending on Medicaid.

“We are saving more lives,” Malerba said of the additional services Medicaid covers in tribal health care. “It brings us closer to a level of 21st century care that we should all have access to but don’t always.”

This article was published with the support of the Journalism & Women Symposium (JAWS) Health Journalism Fellowship, assisted by grants from The Commonwealth Fund.

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

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

The post Tribal Health Leaders Say Medicaid Cuts Would Decimate Health Programs appeared first on kffhealthnews.org

Continue Reading

Trending