Emergency services, COVID, and the health system: Your life could well be at risk

I recently had a very unpleasant health event, involving severe abdominal pain for most of a day and night, and many days of recovery. The details of my specific condition are not particularly important, other than to say it is a chronic, recurrent problem, resulting from an event decades ago; it could well need emergency surgery and can have serious results. The point is that I had to decide whether to go to the emergency room that night, and to discuss the issues, both personal and structural, that impacted that decision, and what it demonstrates about our healthcare system, made even worse by the stress of COVID.

Considerations on the side of “go to the ER” were 1) I was in a lot of pain that was lasting longer than it generally has (say twice a year), and wanted to not be, 2) I knew pretty well what was causing it and that, while it had happened before and usually resolved, it could also NOT get better and maybe require emergency surgery, or worse. Considerations on the side of “don’t go to the ER” were 1) it has usually in the past resolved, eventually, on its own, and 2) the idea of getting in the car to go to the ER, and then waiting to be triaged and seen, and maybe imaged, which was likely to take many hours, all while in such pain, was a very negative incentive. If I was going to be writhing in untreated severe pain, I would prefer it to be in my own bed than in the waiting room of an ER. Plus, COVID. Both because it has made the crowding and wait times in ERs and hospitals much worse than “normal”, and because being there increases the risk of exposure and infection. I happen to live in what is currently a “high COVID” state, but nowhere is a really “low COVID risk” area. As it turns out, I didn’t go, and by morning, after about 18 hours, the worst was past. This time. But it will happen again and I will again have to decide what to do.

As do many, many thousands of others, every day, in the US. For many people, a major concern is cost – because visits to the ER are costly for those with no or poor insurance (really a lot of people). Fortunately for me, I’m not in that group. For others, it is because of fear of finding out what the problem is, and that it will be something really bad that they don’t want to know about. That also wasn’t really my issue; as a physician who has dealt with this, I knew what the problem was. Unfortunately, that can make it worse, since my fears and realization of the possible outcomes are based in evidence and not just fear. For yet others, it is the expectation that because of who they are (not White, poor, poorly insured, not well-dressed, have a history of alcohol or drug use or mental illness, or something else that doctors tend to associate with making one of less value) that they will be pushed back in the line, not believed, have their stories discounted, and generally be treated badly. Not really me either, although my physician privilege is decreased now that I am retired in another city, and do not get to go to the ER in the hospital where I work every day and people know me. For a lot of people, it is a combination of these, synergistically making their experience, and expectation of that experience, worse.

In case there may be anyone who is skeptical about my saying it is likely to be hours of waiting even when one presents with an emergency condition and is obviously educated and “respectable” (as a physician or nurse), it happens, and is happening much more continuously in the Age of COVID, when facilities are completely stretched to their limit and resources and people who work there are stressed to the max. Just recently, the last few months, two people who are close to me and are healthcare professionals have been through this experience. One had acute appendicitis, and needed emergency surgery, and after waiting many hours at home before venturing to the ER, waited there for 7 more hours before being seen. Luckily, they are now OK. It was not a positive experience! The other had a similar serious need, a ruptured diverticulitis causing peritonitis. She also waited in excruciating pain for hours, despite the fact that she was accompanied by her husband, a physician from the community who has practiced here for decades who was reduced to screaming at staff before she got her necessary emergency surgery. (For the record, these two people and I are all “seniors”, but these scenarios can and do affect everyone; my initial crisis was when I was 40 years old.)

The best advice anyone can give me is “get an ambulance”; they’ll see you sooner than if you arrive by car. This may well be true, and it may be good advice for me or for any other individual who is not worried about an additional $2000 bill, but in no way addresses the systemic problems that obviously exist.

The first of these is the incredible stress put on the system and the individuals working in it, doctors, nurses, and other healthcare workers, by the COVID pandemic. The burden on hospitals and healthcare workers has been phenomenal. In this sense, doctors and nurses and others on the front line are our heroes, as they are often portrayed. Yes, sometimes they can exhibit inappropriate behaviors. These can even be exhibited by folks in whom they rarely manifested before as a result of the continuous stress of working in the situation that they, and we as patients and as a society, find ourselves in. The governmental response to the pandemic, led by a federal administration who acted as if their intention was to do everything completely wrong, was shockingly inadequate. Yes, building new hospital capacity is possible and usually slow, but some localities did it, and yes, training and equipping more healthcare workers takes time. But there is no conceivable justifiable excuse for not having sufficient PPE, for example, months into the pandemic. This could only happen because of the worst possible management. Remember that this is the country that put a person on the moon 8 years after the first suborbital flight, that built the interstate highway system, that could assemble battleships in weeks during WW II, that has enough money to give trillions of $$ in tax cuts to billionaires and corporations. It only did not happen because of more than ineptitude; it happened because of an intent to do evil. We can hope that at least much of this can be reversed by a Biden administration.

The other big structural issue is our terribly designed and implemented healthcare nonsystem that discriminates against people based upon wealth and insurance status, race and ethnicity, age and pre-exisiting conditions, geographical location, and in appropriate allocation of resources that in the best of (non-COVID) circumstances sends a hugely disproportionate number of true emergencies (medical, surgical, trauma) to some hospitals while others have relatively low, and more mild, usage of their emergency facilities. It is also the fact that many people cannot get into see their primary care physicians promptly, or do not even have primary care physicians (or other providers, such as NPs) so end up waiting until they are severely ill and going to the ER. These are people who, if they get hospitalized, can be considered “primary care preventable” hospitalizations. That is, if they had been able to easily and promptly see a primary care doctor for their illness, and at least as important, had their chronic diseases effectively managed and controlled, would have not needed hospitalization – or emergency care. This needs another set of structural solutions. It needs, first off, a universal national health insurance system. Every single person in the country needs to be completely covered for every medical necessity, without copays, deductibles, etc., and we all need to be in the same program.  The pandemic has clearly demonstrated the vulnerability of employer-based coverage. It is long past time, if it ever was, for ideas of gradual piecemeal expansion of Medicare, ACA, Medicaid, etc. If everyone is not in the same system, it is not a possibility but rahter a certainty that some will get better care than others. Separate, the Supreme Court ruled in 1954, is not equal in education, and separate insurance systems cannot create equality in healthcare.

A universal health insurance system, such as Medicare for All, is not going to fix all of the things that I discussed above. We need to ensure that there are hospitals and ERs available to all people. We need to ensure that all hospitals are welcoming to all patients, and that there is a rational system of referral from smaller to larger hospitals.  We must ensure that there is adequate primary care capacity so that everyone can have a provider that they can see regularly, and promptly when needed, and do not need to access ERs for either primary care or for urgent conditions that could have been prevented by good primary care. And we need to make sure that there is adequate emergency capacity for all emergencies to be cared for emergently, and that ERs, and hospitals, and health systems, are designed and funded and run based solely on what best needs the health needs of the entire community, and not on what makes the most profit for the owners. A universal health insurance system is necessary but not sufficient.

We need all that, and need it yesterday.

More wealth, more health: what can we do to mitigate disparities?

The Washington Post’s “Wonkblog” reviewed a report by economists discussing “The stunning — and expanding — gap in life expectancy between the rich and the poor” (Max Ehrenfreund, Sept 18, 2015). One focus of the article, which is based on a report from the National Academy of Sciences, is that (in the words of the alternative title of the Wonkblog piece that displays in the URL), “the government is spending more to help rich seniors than poor ones”. A big reason for this is that the greater life expectancy of the more well-to-do means that they collect benefits from Social Security and Medicare for longer. But, of course, the real issue is that there is such a difference in the life expectancy of rich and poor. Ehrenfreund illustrates this with two dramatic graphs:

This is a pretty significant difference. What are the reasons for it? The report (and the article based on it) indicate that while differences in “lifestyle” (smoking and obesity, mainly) account for some of the difference, it is less than 1/3. The study also alludes to the impact of “stress”. This may seem vague, non-specific, or ubiquitous: aren’t we all stressed? Don’t rich people have a lot of stress because wealth is often accompanied by great responsibility? Such interpretations sometimes leads "stress" as a factor in longevity to be discounted by many commentators. But the impact of stress on health is a real thing, and it is well documented. Many people are familiar with the old terms “Type A” and “Type B” personalities, and how being Type A (more stressed) can lead to a greater risk of disease, particularly heart attack. But the real concern is a kind of stress that is more common in poorer people. This is the continuous stress, from worrying about whether you and your family will have enough food to eat and a place to live, whether you will have a job, whether it is safe to walk down the street, whether (especially if you are a young Black man) the police are going to stop you at any moment, that has major negative health effects. The mechanisms through which this occurs are incompletely elucidated, but certainly involve the neuroendocrine system, the release of hormones that prepare the body for “fight or flight” by refocusing blood flow to muscles, increasing heart rate, etc. Such a response is very useful in an emergency, but when it is happening most or all of the time, and the body does not have the time and rest to fully recuperate, it results in real health damage. This hormonal response allows a person to run fast, from an attacker or for sport, for a short time, but if the challenge never stops, the body eventually wears out

This sort of stress on the body may be the “final common pathway” through which many of the negative life situations that poorer people are more likely to find themselves in exact their toll, but there are also other factors. People’s health, and thus their life expectancy, is to a large extent determined by their early childhood experience. The relative income of their families of origin that affects their childhood nutrition and education, their warmth in the winter, and the amount of transmitted stress that their parents felt, is also a big determinant. While this disparity at the start of life is something that can be mitigated, by some, through future success, it can never be completely erased. That is, while rich people from poor backgrounds may have better health later in life than those who stay poorer, they have on average worse health than those who started out wealthy and stayed that way. “Choose your parents wisely,” I tell my medical students, “if they are both long-lived and rich, it bodes well for your future health.” Luckily for them, the majority of medical students come from at least upper-middle-income families.

Another big determinant is education, and many studies show the correlation of higher levels of education with longer life and better health. Of course, education is highly correlated with income, both on the front end (children from higher-income families are more likely to achieve higher educational levels) and on the back end (those children from families of lower socioeconomic status who are successful have usually become so through education). In the US, income is related to education in part because our schools are largely funded by local tax bases, so that wealthier people live in better funded, and educationally better, school districts. People from other countries often have difficulty understanding that we have “good” and “bad” school districts; as one friend said “where I come from all schools are the same! No one would choose where to live based on the quality of the schools!” This concept is so alien to me that I had difficulty understanding them!

In addition, education does not take place only in school. Children from upper-income families are more likely to have educated parents, who not only encourage them to pursue educational success, but read to them and talk to them from the very beginning of their lives. These are also families in which survival needs do not displace the priority of children getting an education. In 1943, the psychologist Abraham Maslow published his hierarchy of needs; survival must come before self-actualization. This was originally conceived of for the individual, but is also true of families and communities. A similar pyramid has been developed to describe the impact of Adverse Childhood Events (ACEs). ACEs are a ways of thinking about the combination of negative impacts including hunger, homelessness, physical abuse, sexual abuse, neighborhood dangerousness, etc., that have been shown to have a lifelong negative impact. In addition to being associated with higher future rates of drug abuse and mental illness, they are associated with higher rates of just about everything bad. The Adverse Childhood Experiences study conducted by Kaiser Permanente beginning in 1995-97 is the most significant study on this topic. It is ongoing and being replicated in many other countries.

 

Of course, lower income people are exposed to other risks beyond these. People living in “worse” neighborhoods have a greater likelihood of being homicide victims. Those neighborhoods are much more likely to be exposed to environmental pollutants in the air and water and even from the earth (such as toxic waste dumps). Many lower-income people work in more dangerous jobs, especially true in rural areas (farming, ranching, logging, highway construction, etc.) Indeed, the potential for “confounding” results from such exposures was the reason that Michael Marmot and his colleagues did their classic series of studies showing the direct correlation of higher socioeconomic status (class) and better health by examining people who worked for the government in the same offices in London (thus the name “the Whitehall studies”).

Wealthy people have a longer life expectancy than poor people, and wealthy countries have longer life expectancies than poorer countries, and those with wider gaps between the rich and poor have wider gaps in life expectancy; in this regard the US is at greater risk than wealthy nations with smaller gaps. The neat interactive website from Gapminder allows you to track wealth with life expectancy over time since 1800. The GINI index measures the income disparities within countries, and its use allows correlating income inequality with life expectancy; like several other health measures (e.g., infant mortality) life expectancy goes down with increasing inequality even when a country (such as the US) is rich overall.

So yes, our Social Security and Medicare systems mean that those who live longer will have more financial benefit, and that they are more likely to be more well-to-do than those who die younger. In addition, those who are poorer are more likely to live longer with disability. But the real news is that poverty and social deprivation work in many synergistic ways to decrease the health of the poor. This is what we need a coordinated and comprehensive strategy to address.

And the first step is recognizing and acknowledging it.