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medical monopoly

Elephants, middlemen, and systems – oh, my!

By healthcare industry, politics, technology

I’ve been MIA here, but I’ve been loud/proud pretty much everywhere else in the last few months. Including here and here.  What follows is a rant based on what I’ve been seeing/doing since last seen on this page.

Elephants

There’s an old joke that goes like this: “What’s an elephant?” “It’s a mouse designed by a government committee.” There’s also the old “elephant in the room” bromide about topics that are not to be mentioned under any circumstances, despite their obvious impact on the issue under discussion. And the “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” motivational meme, along with the “blind guys describing an elephant” metaphor used to explain the impact of silo-ed thinking.

We’re up to our parietal bones in pachyderms in the healthcare transformation discussion. The biggest one – you can call him Jumbo, or you could call him Dumbo – is always in the room. What I call him is Huckster Nation.

elephant in the room by banksy

Image: Banksy

What do I mean? I mean the underpinning of pretty much all of American culture – the carnival barker sales guy (guy in this usage is gender neutral). We are a nation of flacks, flogging everything from Sham-Wow to space stations, and that includes our healthcare system. Hell, I’m selling myself, or at least I’m offering to rent out the contents of my cranium in exchange for coin of the realm, as are we all, in one way or another.

Americans have taken this to the level of a cultural art form, in that we’ve built our national myth around economic freedom. That it works out to be a literal myth for too many of us – income divide, I’m talking to you – is part of what I’m calling out here, but for the moment let’s focus on the carnival barkers sales guys in US healthcare, shall we?

I’m taking about the ….

Middlemen

Who are the middlemen in healthcare? Apart from the obvious ones – the health insurers, including Medicare, who administer the payment/money side of healthcare delivery – there are a metric sh*t ton of middlemen of all sorts threaded throughout the system. To use a biology metaphor, let’s call the ones that help Good Bacteria and the ones that don’t help Ebola Outbreaks. By the way, I’m defining “help” as an effort at improving something: making care more accessible, creating technology that improves care/care process, research that discovers new treatments.

Here are some examples of Good Bacteria:

  • Organizations that build health literacy tools to improve people’s access to and understanding of healthcare (click here for an example)
  • Open-access scientific journals (click here and here for examples)
  • Companies that build tech that helps patients, or clinical teams, or patients AND clinical teams (click here and here for examples)

Here are some Ebola Outbreaks:

  • Any commercial enterprise operating the healthcare sector that puts ROI above human lives (click here for an example)
  • Not-for-profit healthcare systems that treat humans solely as profit modules (click here for an example)
  • Health insurance companies that allow games of “gotcha” where their covered lives are the game pieces (click here for a Modern Healthcare piece on the issue)

Systems

Which brings me to the whole US healthcare system conundrum, which was summed up pretty well by my friend Dan Munro:

system isn't broken image

Image: Dan Munro

I attended the Population Health Alliance Forum conference recently in DC. I was surrounded by middlemen – some Good Bacteria, some Ebola Outbreaks – as I sat and listened to clinicians, analytics geeks, policy wonks, and carnival barkers sales guys talk about issues in population health. Population health is defined as the health outcomes of a group of individuals, including the distribution of such outcomes within the group. Meaning that in most conversations where the phrase appears, you’re talking about Employer Sponsored Insurance (ESI), or Medicare. So the attendees were heavy on the big insurer and big health provider side, with a strong showing in the “we want to sell our stuff to big insurers and big health providers” cohort.

I was, as far as I could tell, the only person wearing the “I’m a patient here, myself” label. I guess I was the patient voice carnival barker sales guy. Hey, we’re all selling something, even if it’s only an idea.

Meanwhile, I’m surrounded by system players in a series of hotel ballrooms in DC. I found myself getting a little shouty with frustration on Twitter:

 

 

 

 

 

That last one – the “what’s the ROI?” thing – was fueled by rage. The US healthcare system, which sucks up $3 trillion-with-a-T every year – making it the most expensive healthcare system in the world, but 11th on the Top 10 list on health outcomes – is stuck on a “what’s the ROI?” loop, driven by the carnival barkers sales guys, while human lives sink below the metric radar. In other words, loot trumps lives.

In the metaphor I’m using in this post, Ebola Outbreaks are overwhelming the Good Bacteria. So here’s what we gotta do – we gotta call out Ebola Outbreaks when and wherever they appear. If you see one, shout it out – preferably in public, like on Twitter! – and tag me. I’ll be “Nurse with the Good Bacteria,” and whistle up both some outrage, and some common sense solutions.

Let’s not keep the insanity that is $3T+/year in exchange for “sorta OK” on a lather/rinse/repeat cycle. Who’s with me?

More Medical Monopoly [hotels everywhere!]

By healthcare industry, media commentary
medical monopoly image
image credit: James N. Vail

Last week’s post called medicine in the U.S. a monopoly. I took some heat for using that metaphor from some of my economist and journo colleagues, and realized that I needed to make a clarification: Medicine is a game of Monopoly, not a true economic monopoly. My very-snark-infested point was, and always is, that the pricing model in healthcare in this country is about as fair as a crap game or, perhaps, a round of Monopoly.

More grist for my point arrived this week in the form of a TIME special feature, Bitter Pill: Why Medical Bills Are Killing Us. In it, reporter Steven Brill walks the reader through the chaos behind a veil of secrecy in healthcare pricing, starting with an under-insured man’s treatment at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Texas, which involved waiting – while wracked with the chills and fever caused by his non-Hodkin’s lymphoma – in a crowded hospital reception area until the check for his treatment cleared. He wound up having to use a credit card to pay $7,500 toward his medical costs before they’d initiate his chemotherapy. By the way, MD Anderson is a non-profit hospital. A close review of that man’s hospital bills revealed a 400% markup on many of the cancer drugs in his chemo treatments.

Another example in the TIME feature is one involving a $21,000 false alarm – a woman was having chest pain, and was taken by ambulance to a local hospital. After testing, it was discovered that she was suffering from indigestion. The Medicare billing for the trip would have been around 80% less than what the woman – who didn’t have insurance – was billed for the hospital visit. However, since she was 64, and not eligible for Medicare, she was billed $21,000. Yikes.

time cover image
image credit: TIME Magazine

At the root of the cost determinations in both of these cases is the hospital’s chargemaster list – the Great and Powerful Oz of that hospital’s billing structure. When pressed, hospital spokespeeps will say “no one pays those rates, they’re just a guideline” or “those lists have been around forever, we only use them as a reference” – but uninsured and under-insured people are asked to pay them. Hospital executive will also say that the pricing on the chargemaster list is justified by the fact that the hospital has to provide charity care to indigent patients. While it’s true that there are patients who can’t pay for the care they receive, the vast majority of patients are covered by either a private health plan, or Medicare, or Medicaid. The rates paid by those payers are negotiated with the hospitals. Why can’t an un- or underinsured person negotiate a fair cash price, too?

The TIME story is a great read – it’s long, but it’s worth every minute of the time it will take you to read it. One patient story that stood out for me: a union guy in his 30s, with severe back pain, was treated by having a spinal-nerve stimulation device implanted. An outpatient procedure, with the nickel-and-dime hospital chargemaster billing adding up to $87,000 – the device itself, which wholesales for $19,000, was billed to the patient at $49,237 – put the patient over his annual health insurance coverage limit of $60,000. He was on the hook for $47,000 of that bill. Again, yikes.

This trip down the medical billing rabbit hole pinged my radar in the same hour that a post by Brian Klepper on KevinMD.com did. It appears that the American Medical Association’s star-chamber price-setting committee, the RUC (about which I’ve ranted here before), has been given a pass by a federal appeals court in Georgia on having to hew to the same public-interest rules that govern other federal advisory groups. In other words, the AMA gets to continue to set healthcare prices by setting the dollar value assigned to each and every billing code in healthcare. Fox, meet henhouse. Again.

What was I saying about medicine not being a monopoly? Well, OK, it’s not a monopoly. But it’s sure a shootin’ a game of Monopoly, with hotels on every single street. And patients just have to keep paying up after every roll of the dice.

Medical Monopoly: Medicine has a major image problem

By healthcare industry, media commentary, politics, technology
image credit: Alec

When you hear the word “monopoly,” does it fill you with a warm and fuzzy feeling? (Unless you’re Hasbro, you really should say no, unless you’re a cyborg.)

Healthcare is a monopoly. We can’t DIY cancer treatment, or surgically repair a broken hip for ourselves, so we have to go to the medical-industrial complex to regain our health if we wander into the weeds, health-wise. We also have deep difficulty accessing pricing information. I’ve talked about that here over the last few years. Maybe not a monopoly in the financial-reg sense of the word, but it sure is mighty like a game of Monopoly.

This “chaos behind a veil of secrecy” (all credit for that phrase belongs to healthcare economist Uwe Reinhart) has created the impression in healthcare customers that there’s no way to tell what something will cost before you buy it. You checks the box and takes yer chances. No Get Out of the Hospital Free cards. No pass-the-admissions-counter-collect-$200 option. That’s a rotten way to run a railroad (one of the original monopoly industries in US history), and an even worse way to run a hospital.

Dan Munro wrote about this, and the star-chamber cabal that actually sets the prices in healthcare, the RUC, on Forbes.com yesterday. I’ve talked about the RUC myself. And the search for price transparency, which seemed such an outlier activity just a couple of years ago, is now popping up in the Well blog on the New York Times site, as well as on Reuters. The Reuters piece has the addition bonus of quotes from my buddy Jeanne Pinder, founder of ClearHealthCosts.com. (Yesterday was a big day in medical price transparency.)

This is the central reason I registered the hashtag #howmuchisthat with Symplur, the healthcare hashtag registry. We all have to start demanding that prices be visible, and that the RUC stop cabal-ing around with our lives and our wallets. As more and more people are finding themselves with high-deductible health insurance, asking how much things cost before you make a healthcare decision will become the norm. If a healthcare provider can’t answer that question, s/he will find that s/he’s seeing the patient panel sinking fast, along with practice revenue.

Get with it, medicine. Remake your image, and your brand, to be clear as glass and user-friendly. Outcome metrics along with pricing would be really nice, too.