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Tag: Older Adults

  • ‘Ain’t Done Just Yet’ brings Broadway spirit — and big life lessons — to older adult communities

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    THORNTON, Colo. — In performance spaces around Denver, laughter mixes with tears as a group of older adults sing, dance, and tell stories that hit close to home for other older adults. This is “Ain’t Done Just Yet,” a one-hour musical revue blending comedy with heartfelt reflection.

    Its creator, Russell Lubliner, calls it “a unicorn… there’s no senior entertainment like this anywhere.”

    Lubliner’s journey to the stage was far from traditional. In 2020, COVID‑19 shut down his Chicago pizza business in just 26 days.

    “I thought to myself, my business shouldn’t define me, and neither should my age,” he said.

    With no musical background, Lubliner said he woke up one night and wrote lyrics to the show’s title song: “Ain’t done just yet… we got a lot of juice left.”

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    “Ain’t Done Just Yet” creator, Russell Lubliner.

    The revue tackles themes like ageism, isolation, and resilience.

    “One of the major themes is my aversion to ageism… a lot of the seniors say our families really don’t pay that much attention… you see ageism in TV shows and in general attitudes. That’s unfortunate,” Lubliner explained.

    Audience member Edward Galston says it’s more than entertainment — it’s generational connection.

    “Bring your grandchildren, bring your adult children even, and let them experience what we went through… it’s very important to pass these feelings on.” He added, “When it’s over, on the ride home, they’ll ask questions… and now that’s educational.”

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    Performer Christine Shelton, who plays “Tilly,” a character struggling with dementia, says the role resonates widely.

    “Usually there’s someone in the audience who knows someone struggling with dementia,” she said.

    For her and other cast members, being part of the show is a mental workout.

    “As an older person, memorization and going out of my box a little bit is good for my memory and keeps me sharp… I try.”

    The songs are humorous and poignant, but always grounded in truth. One number addresses the loss of communication with family; another reflects a Vietnam veteran’s perspective. Lubliner says the goal is simple: Give older adults a reason to get out of their rooms — and remind them they’re not alone.

    “It’s nice to know we share a lot of the same experiences, and that’s where it comes home,” he said.

    Lubliner hopes to grow “Ain’t Done Just Yet” into a music video that can be shared with seniors nationwide. Until then, audiences in Colorado will keep enjoying this spirited reminder that getting older doesn’t mean the music has to stop.

    You can learn more about “Ain’t Done Just Yet” on their website.

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    Denver7 | Your Voice: Get in touch with Colin Riley

    Denver7’s Colin Riley is a multimedia journalist who tells stories impacting all of Colorado’s communities, but specializes in reporting on transportation and our state’s population of older adults. If you’d like to get in touch with Colin, fill out the form below to send him an email.

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    Colin Riley

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  • Elevated Denver uses storytelling to address homelessness among older adults

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    DENVER — Homelessness among older adults in the Denver metro area is a lingering problem. For the past few years, the nonprofit Elevated Denver has worked to be part of the solution — partnering with those who have lived it — to help get lives back on track.

    “Elevated Denver was started to be a part of the solution to homelessness in our community,” said Co-founder and CEO Johnna Flood. “The foundation of it is really based on three principles … looking at homelessness and other challenges from a systems lens; where is the system functioning well, and where is it breaking down, and how do we solve that collaboratively, so not just the nonprofit sector, but also with government, business.”

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    CEO and co-founder of Elevated Denver, Johnna Flood.

    The organization’s approach centers on storytelling through podcasts, art exhibits and community events — including a gallery in downtown Denver focused on the voices of those who have experienced homelessness.

    “We’re really aiming to open people’s hearts and minds to the fact that we’re all humans having our own human experience,” Flood said. “The most important to our work is, how do we lift up the voices, stories and activate lived expert leaders in our community … and ensure that they’re the primary folks working on the solutions.”

    Flood said interviews with dozens of unhoused adults revealed it could take three to six months, on average, to find help beyond immediate food and shelter. In response, the group piloted a Community Resource Connection Hub at the Westwood Community Center, staffed by members of the neighborhood with lived experience navigating homelessness.

    “A lot of things can happen in those three to six months,” Flood said. “We wanted to reach people earlier and prevent people from having to experience homelessness, if we could, or make it brief and temporary.”

    Their research also highlighted the unique challenges facing older adults without shelter.

    “In many cases, mobility is a big problem because they may or may not have health challenges just getting around,” said John Olander, who once experienced homelessness and now has permanent housing. “Absolutely [it’s challenging to ask for help], because in most cases, they’ve done it themselves all their life. And in fact, that was my biggest personal challenge.”

    Olander said pride can prevent people from seeking support.

    “When you get to be my age, and then all of a sudden, you got to ask somebody to give you a handout … you don’t want to do it,” he said. “It’s pride, and it’s also stupidity.”

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    Flood noted the compounding effects for older adults who often live on fixed incomes in the face of rising costs, health events and personal losses. Many, she said, experience homelessness for the first time later in life.

    “These folks just will not give up, and they’re so resilient and persistent and hopeful,” Flood said. “Most of these stories are about resilience and hope, community and connection, and that’s exactly what I want to foster.”

    For Olander, sharing personal stories has been part of his recovery and advocacy.

    “That experience of talking to others and getting it out helps everyone,” he said. “It’s just a privilege to be a part of the solution.”

    Through art, conversation and community spaces, Elevated Denver hopes to turn individual experiences into collective action — and change perceptions about homelessness along the way.

    “We just want them to open themselves up to the possibility of seeing life through somebody else’s experience,” Flood said, “and through all of our work … open their hearts and minds.”

    Coloradans making a difference | Denver7 featured videos


    Denver7 is committed to making a difference in our community by standing up for what’s right, listening, lending a helping hand and following through on promises. See that work in action, in the videos above.

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    Colin Riley

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  • Bringing Friendship Indoors: 5 Simple Ways for Seniors to Stay Connected This Winter

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    Winter brings colder weather, shorter days, and more time spent indoors,  all factors that can chip away at social routines. Even older adults who typically stay active and engaged may find it harder to connect during this season. Limited daylight, mobility challenges, and reduced transportation options can quickly lead to increased isolation.

    Photo Courtesy of Seniors Helping Seniors Credit: Photo Courtesy of Seniors Helping Seniors

    But staying socially connected in winter doesn’t require big plans. Small, intentional habits make a meaningful difference. With the support of a Seniors Helping Seniors® caregiver, older adults can maintain those habits more easily,  whether through companionship, help coordinating calls, or reliable transportation for outings.

    Below are five simple ways seniors can stay connected when temperatures drop.

    1. Schedule Recurring Calls with Loved Ones
    Instead of waiting for conversations to happen, put them on the calendar. Weekly phone or video calls, like a Monday morning “coffee chat” or Friday afternoon “catch-up call”,  give seniors something predictable and positive to look forward to. Caregivers can assist by setting up devices, managing reminders, and ensuring calls go smoothly.

    2. Join a Virtual Class or Group
    Winter is an ideal time to explore online activities from home. Virtual yoga, book clubs, faith-based discussions, crafting groups, or memory-friendly programs help seniors stay mentally active and socially engaged. A caregiver can help register, log in, adjust audio or video settings, and provide support during the session.

    3. Start a Monthly Letter Exchange
    Handwritten letters create meaningful connections across generations. A simple routine — sending and receiving one letter each month,  can strengthen relationships with grandchildren, siblings, or friends. Caregivers can help gather supplies, write or dictate messages, take photos to include, and handle mailing. This personal tradition becomes a warm, ongoing connection.

    4. Plan Short “Social Errand” Trips
    Everyday errands offer easy opportunities for social interaction. A quick trip to the pharmacy, post office, or local store can lift a senior’s mood and break up routine. A Seniors Helping Seniors® caregiver can provide transportation, assist with mobility or navigation, and ensure the outing feels relaxed and enjoyable.

    5. Participate in Library Events or Educational Programs
    Local libraries often offer accessible, low-cost social activities such as lectures, craft circles, film discussions, or reading groups. A caregiver can check schedules, help register, provide transportation, and join the activity if the senior prefers extra support.

    How Caregivers Add Warmth and Support All Winter Long
    Winter creates real barriers to connection — weather, safety concerns, reduced sunlight, and fewer community events. For many older adults, these changes increase feelings of loneliness. Seniors Helping Seniors® caregivers help maintain social connections by offering companionship, conversation, safe transportation, help with technology, and gentle encouragement to stay engaged.

    Regular interaction is essential for emotional well-being, cognitive health, and overall quality of life. With the right support, even the quietest months of the year can feel meaningful, connected, and full of positive

    If you’d like to learn how a caregiver can provide warmth and steady support this winter, we’re here to help. Contact us today. (404)793-0677 or (404)779-5517 or visit our website at SHSAtlantaSoutwest.com.

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  • Advocates call for action from Colorado lawmakers as older population grows and care becomes more expensive

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    DENVER — With Colorado’s population of older adults projected to surge nearly 30% by 2035, advocates gathered Friday at the State Capitol to discuss the biggest problems facing the fastest growing demographic in our state.

    The rally came as the Colorado Fiscal Institute released its latest “Cost of Aging in Colorado” report, which warns of rising demand — and inadequate funding — for programs like home-delivered meals, transportation and in-home care. In 2023, more than 50,000 older Coloradans relied on such services, most of which are funded through state and federal dollars.

    “We’re going to have a billion-dollar shortfall in ’25, probably about a billion-dollar shortfall in ’26, and they’re [state lawmakers] going to have to look at the biggest line items on their budget, including Medicaid,” said Emily Peterson, executive director of PACE Programs.

    Peterson said the financial uncertainty is rippling through senior communities, leaving many hesitant to make life changes — even for the better — out of fear they could lose benefits.

    “One of the things that hurts me the most is when a senior tells me, ‘I’m afraid to make a change, even if it’s a change for the better because of uncertainty. They’re not sure if their government benefit will be there next year,’” Peterson said.

    Colorado receives $22 million annually in federal funding for older adult programs, but advocates say that amount falls far short of meeting the growing need.

    Colorado Fiscal Institue

    Since 2021, Colorado has received $22 million in federal funding. Advocates say it is not keeping up with demand and cost of care.

    “There’s no way [funding] is keeping up,” Peterson said. “It’s going to call on a lot of private individuals, foundations, businesses even to help with some of that, because the government’s never going to be able to keep up with it.”

    Advocates like Peterson and Steve Olguin, executive director of Bright Leaf Inc., say collaboration among agencies is key.

    “If we are doing our own thing, I mean, we’re never going to be able to make things happen,” Olguin said. “If we’re not all together and we’re trying to make this push, I don’t think anything’s going to get done.”

    Peterson agreed, emphasizing that “relationships are everything” when it comes to creating trusted spaces for seniors. “Let’s not leave our vulnerable seniors in the shadows when they have earned the right to live in the sunshine,” she said.

    The state has unveiled a plan this year to address aging-related challenges. Advocates hope it will lead to urgent, meaningful changes.

    “This might be the opportunity to make it work. I can’t really say, but I do know that more and more people are getting engaged,” said Bob Bocker, founder and president of AgeWise Colorado. “It’s really important for people to pay attention to what’s going on and notice your neighbors.”

    As Colorado’s senior population grows, advocates say visibility will be critical.

    “Once you have gray hair, you often become invisible,” Peterson said. “Raising the visibility is key.”

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    Denver7 | Your Voice: Get in touch with Colin Riley

    Denver7’s Colin Riley is a multimedia journalist who tells stories impacting all of Colorado’s communities, but specializes in reporting on transportation and our state’s population of older adults. If you’d like to get in touch with Colin, fill out the form below to send him an email.

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    Colin Riley

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  • Record LI aging population faces rising poverty, new report says | Long Island Business News

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    THE BLUEPRINT:

    • Over 32,000 older Long Islanders now live below the poverty line

    • 62% increase in vs. 24% population growth in 10 years

    • 45% of those 70+ report no retirement income beyond Social Security

    • of color face highest poverty rates, especially Hispanics

     

    With ‘s older population at an all-time high, a new report shows many face an uncertain financial future. 

    The report released Tuesday by the Center for an Urban Future found that Long Island is now home to more than 520,000 people aged 65 and older, accounting for 17.8% of the population in Nassau and Suffolk counties, which is up from 14.8% a decade ago. 

    Over those past 10 years, the number of Long Islanders aged 65 and older living in poverty has grown by 62%, significantly more than the 24% increase in Long Island’s overall older adult population, according to the report, which was funded by a grant from New York. Statewide, the number of older New Yorkers living below the poverty line increased by 48.1% over the past decade, well below the jump seen on Long Island. 

    In 2023, 10.4% of Long Islanders aged 70 and over, about 37,000 people, did not report receiving social security income and 45.3% of those 70 and over living on Long Island, some161,000 people, did not report retirement income from other sources. 

    Today, more than 32,000 older adults are living at or below the poverty line, up from 19,846 in 2013. As a result of growing financial insecurity, many more older Long Islanders are staying in the workforce, as the number of working older adults on Long Island increased 53.5% over the past decade, from 76,579 in 2013 to 117,537 in 2023, according to the report. More than one in five older adults (22.6%) are now employed, up from 18.3% ten years ago.  

    “Long Island’s population is aging rapidly, but far too many of these older New Yorkers are financially insecure and struggling to make ends meet,” Jonathan Bowles, executive director of the Center for an Urban Future, said in an organization statement. “We’re going to see thousands more older adults fall into poverty unless Long Island’s policymakers act now to address affordability challenges facing so many older adults.”   

    The financial challenges are more acute for older adults of color and immigrant seniors. Poverty rates are highest among Hispanic older adults on Long Island, at 9.8%, followed by Black older adults (6.5%), white older adults (6%), and Asian older adults (4.6%). The number of Hispanic older adults in poverty increased by 128% in the past decade, while Asian poverty rates climbed 66.6%, the report found.  

    Beth Finkel, state director for the New York State Office of AARP, said the report highlights that too many Long Islanders are struggling to make ends meet as they age. 

    “With more than a third of Nassau and Suffolk residents now over 50, the challenges are only growing. Nearly half have no retirement savings, poverty among older adults in Long Island has climbed, and family caregivers, the backbone of our long-term care system, are stretched thin,” Finkel said in the statement. “The good news is, we know what works. By supporting caregivers, expanding , and making our communities more age-friendly, we can ensure Long Island is a place where older adults and people of every age can live and thrive.”  

    The report also listed several policy solutions aimed at addressing financial insecurity for Long Island seniors. Some of these include creating a state version of the Earned Income Tax Credit for those over 65 who report income, since older adults are excluded from the federal credit; implementing a state tax credit for family caregivers supporting the aging at home; investing in age-friendly workforce development and launching regional programs for older entrepreneurs; lowering prescription drug costs by enabling the state to import less expensive medications from Canada or adopting Canadian-style price schedules; expanding affordable senior housing options for older adults and their family caregivers, with incentives for new housing development and support to scale up the Plus One ADU Program. 


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    David Winzelberg

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  • Cannabis Use in Older Patients Associated With Lower Demand for Prescription Drugs

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    The use of medical cannabis products by qualified patients ages 50 and older is associated with a reduced need for prescription medications and significant health-related quality of life improvements, according to data published in the scientific journal Cannabis.

    Canadian investigators assessed medical cannabis use patterns and its effect on health outcomes in a cohort of 200+ older patients (average age: 67). Study participants primarily suffered from chronic pain-related conditions. Patients’ health data was collected at baseline and again at three months and at six months. Most patients in the study consumed orally administered cannabis products containing significant percentages of CBD.

    Researchers reported, “Most patients experienced clinically significant improvements in pain, sleep, and quality of life and reductions in co-medication,” including pain medications, antidepressants, and sleep aids. No serious adverse events were reported.

    “To the best of our knowledge, the present report describes one of the largest longitudinal study of authorized older medical cannabis patients to date,” the study’s authors concluded. “The results of this multi-site, prospective, longitudinal study of medical cannabis patients ages 50 years and older indicate that cannabis may be a relatively safe and effective treatment for chronic pain, sleep disturbances, and other conditions associated with aging, leading to subsequent reductions in prescription drug use and healthcare costs, as well as significant improvements in quality of life.”

    The findings are consistent with those of several other studies similarly reporting quality of life improvements and reduced prescription drug use among older cannabis consumers.

    Commenting on the latest study, NORML’s Deputy Director Paul Armentano said: “There is a growing body of evidence showing that cannabis can provide health-related quality of life improvements in older adults. Many older adults struggle with painanxietyrestless sleep, and other conditions for which cannabis products often mitigate. Many older adults are also well aware of the litany of serious adverse side-effects associated with available prescription drugs, like opioids or sleep aids, and they recognize the role medical cannabis can play as a potentially safer alternative.”

    The full text of the study, “Medical cannabis for patients over age 50: A multi-site, prospective study of patterns of use and health outcomes,” is available from The Research Society on Marijuana. Additional information is available from the NORML Fact Sheet, ‘Marijuana Use by Older Adult Populations.’

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  • Can Marijuana Help Boomers Extend Productivity

    Can Marijuana Help Boomers Extend Productivity

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    As North American adults are living longer, can marijuana help them be more productive?

    Canadian are extended to live longer (52 more years) than Americans (49.3 more years). But both are an extension of life expectancy, allowing for a longer life and more years to have fun and be productive.  While being productive could mean work, it also includes enjoying life, family and passions. Can marijuana help boomers extend productivity? With legalization inching across the country, more 65+ citizens are taking a second look at the plant and starting to use it for chronic pain, intimacy and sleep.

    RELATED: Millennials And Boomers Differ On Marijuana Use

    Both the American Medical Association and the American College of Physicians agree cannabis has medical benefits. Not surprising since the majority of older cannabis consumers report using the plant for medicinal reasons rather than for recreational usage. Marijuana can help older people physically and mentally be more productive to enjoy well rounded later years.

    Photo by PICNIC_Fotografie via Pixabay

    While Boomers still primarily use cannabis for a medical benefits, there are more who are slowly seeing it as an alternative to alcohol, which is more harmful.  Medical marijuana’s anti-inflammation and ability to help with pain makes movement easier allowing for a more physical life. A good night’s sleep and helping with anxiety and depression are another to key factors to have a clear mind to make the most of the day ahead.

    Millennials make up the most of the full-time workforce with 49.5 million workers followed by Gen X at 42.8 million, Baby Boomers and Gen Z are tied at a little over 17 million. But Boomers are seasoned workers and adding a few years can make a difference in a strong economy. And while many companies are dealing with transitions from changing technology and trends. They can be a key factor in the economy.

    RELATED: Cannabis And Its Effect On Senior Sex

    A large marjority of Boomers who consume cannabis believe it relieves pain and has medical benefits. Boomers also have a highly favorable opinion if it can help a sick loved one, with 97% supporting its use in such cases. So the generation who continued the drug wars are now seeing value and are using it to make the most of their senior years.

    What is interesting, this generation entered adulthood when weed was the thing in the free love era, but we scared away by the Drug Wars. As they drift back to marijuana, they are staying true their roots. Boomers tend to purchase flower or bud and go the traditional routes of consumption by smoking or vaping.

    Life Of Seniors
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  • Key Information For The 60+ About Marijuana

    Key Information For The 60+ About Marijuana

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    It is a big summer for the cannabis industry – will Boomers join Gen Z in embracing marijuana?

    It is the summer of cannabis with the potential for rescheduling.  Both the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and Health and Human Services (HHS) has recognized marijuana has medical benefits and is not a dangerous drug. The American Medical Association also recognized it can help patients and they and research show it is better for you than alcohol.  Gen Z has started moving away from alcohol (mainly beer) and embracing cannabis.  With all these changes – here is key information for the 60+ about marijuana in today’s world.

    RELATED: What Is California Sober

    There are two uses for cannabis – recreational (fun stuff) and medical. Even though a little high has never hurt anybody, you don’t have to get high to benefit from medical marijuana. Effective medicinal CBD strains contain small amounts of THC. These strains focus their efforts on the therapeutic side of the plant, producing little to no psychoactive effect.

    The other interesting update is the days of smoking cannabis tends to be waning. it is used more by the aficionado and the old school consumers.  Today, most users have used a vape or a gummy. You can manage dosing better, they are discreet and you take it to events without the smell.  Gen Z has truly embrace the on-the-go aspect of today’s marijuana.

    Photo by rawpixel.com

    With aging, bodies start to deteriorate in every way, leading to some pain and discomfort. Seniors are more prone to experience inflammation, mental and bone health issues and high blood pressure. Evidence and studies show cannabis is a good way of providing some relief, especially in the chronic pain area.

    One of the most common wellness ways cannabis is used is for sleep. Like most natural medicines, it needs to be taken occasionally, but enough to change your sleep patterns. With the correct dosage, it can increase total sleep time and decrease the frequency of arousals during the night.

    Another key issue is anxiety. Some people use marijuana to cope with anxiety, especially those with social anxiety disorder. THC appears to decrease anxiety at lower doses and increase anxiety at higher doses. Studies has shown CBD appears to decrease anxiety at all doses.

    In the fun category, marijuana is healthier than alcohol and can make experiences much more vibrant and alive. Science shows listening to music, watching a movie, or just looking at scenery is more vibrant.  Part of the reason is while on THC, is slows the “memory search part” of the brain and allows it to focus on the moment. Also, cannabis and cannabis creams can help in the intimacy department, sometimes reopening a door which might have been closed.

    RELATED: 6 Ways Cannabis Can Improve The Life Of Seniors

    There needs to be an awareness on the possible effect marijuana can have with common medications taken by older adults. A review published in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology says that marijuana can interact with common heart medications, such as statin and blood thinners. Marijuana use can alter the time in which these medications have an effect and could also result in bleeding.

    People should also avoid pairing marijuana with anti-seizure medications or any other substance that produces strong effects. If having surgery, it’s important for older adults to disclose marijuana use to doctors, even including the use of CBD. The compound has also been linked with altering the way in which the liver processes dosages in medications.

    RELATED: Survey: Seniors In Pain Want To Try Cannabis, But This Is Preventing Them

    Like alcohol, cannabis can make you a bit unstable on your feet. Using either could result in dizziness and in feeling out of control of your body. This in turn could increase the risk of falling and getting involved in all sorts of accidents. Falls pose serious risks for seniors, with 1 out of 5 resulting in a head injury or broken bones. The good news, if done right, cannabis makes you chill.

    How CBD Helps Seniors Exercise
    Photo by Caiaimage/Trevor Adeline/Getty Images

    According to a study published in the journal Gerontology and Geriatric Medicine, like with alcohol, older marijuana users are more likely to experience depression than non-users. While it’s not know exactly why this occurs, it’s likely a combination of things; these users might be taking cannabis instead of seeking medical help, or maybe cannabis is interacting with the medications they’re already taking in ways that are not beneficial.

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    Amy Hansen

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  • Why Are We Still Flu-ifying COVID?

    Why Are We Still Flu-ifying COVID?

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    Four years after what was once the “novel coronavirus” was declared a pandemic, COVID remains the most dangerous infectious respiratory illness regularly circulating in the U.S. But a glance at the United States’ most prominent COVID policies can give the impression that the disease is just another seasonal flu. COVID vaccines are now reformulated annually, and recommended in the autumn for everyone over the age of six months, just like flu shots; tests and treatments for the disease are steadily being commercialized, like our armamentarium against flu. And the CDC is reportedly considering more flu-esque isolation guidance for COVID: Stay home ’til you’re feeling better and are, for at least a day, fever-free without meds.

    These changes are a stark departure from the earliest days of the crisis, when public-health experts excoriated public figures—among them, former President Donald Trump—for evoking flu to minimize COVID deaths and dismiss mitigation strategies. COVID might still carry a bigger burden than flu, but COVID policies are getting more flu-ified.

    In some ways, as the population’s immunity has increased, COVID has become more flu-like, says Roby Bhattacharyya, a microbiologist and an infectious-disease physician at Massachusetts General Hospital. Every winter seems to bring a COVID peak, but the virus is now much less likely to hospitalize or kill us, and somewhat less likely to cause long-term illness. People develop symptoms sooner after infection, and, especially if they’re vaccinated, are less likely to be as sick for as long. COVID patients are no longer overwhelming hospitals; those who do develop severe COVID tend to be those made more vulnerable by age or other health issues.

    Even so, COVID and the flu are nowhere near the same. SARS-CoV-2 still spikes in non-winter seasons and simmers throughout the rest of the year. In 2023, COVID hospitalized more than 900,000 Americans and killed 75,000; the worst flu season of the past decade hospitalized 200,000 fewer people and resulted in 23,000 fewer deaths. A recent CDC survey reported that more than 5 percent of American adults are currently experiencing long COVID, which cannot be fully prevented by vaccination or treatment, and for which there is no cure. Plus, scientists simply understand much less about the coronavirus than flu viruses. Its patterns of spread, its evolution, and the durability of our immunity against it all may continue to change.

    And yet, the CDC and White House continue to fold COVID in with other long-standing seasonal respiratory infections. When the nation’s authorities start to match the precautions taken against COVID with those for flu, RSV, or common colds, it implies “that the risks are the same,” Saskia Popescu, an epidemiologist at the University of Maryland, told me. Some of those decisions are “not completely unreasonable,” says Costi Sifri, the director of hospital epidemiology at UVA Health, especially on a case-by-case basis. But taken together, they show how bent America has been on treating COVID as a run-of-the-mill disease—making it impossible to manage the illness whose devastation has defined the 2020s.

    Each “not completely unreasonable” decision has trade-offs. Piggybacking COVID vaccines onto flu shots, for instance, is convenient: Although COVID-vaccination rates still lag those of flu, they might be even lower if no one could predict when shots might show up. But such convenience may come at the cost of protecting Americans against COVID’s year-round threat. Michael Osterholm, an epidemiologist at the University of Minnesota School of Public Health, told me that a once-a-year vaccine policy is “dead wrong … There is no damn evidence this is a seasonal virus yet.” Safeguards against infection and milder illness start to fade within months, leaving people who dose up in autumn potentially more susceptible to exposures by spring. That said, experts are still torn on the benefits of administering the same vaccine more than once a year—especially to a public that’s largely unwilling to get it. Throughout the pandemic, immunocompromised people have been able to get extra shots. And today, an advisory committee to the CDC voted to recommend that older adults once again get an additional dose of the most recently updated COVID vaccine in the coming months. Neither is a pattern that flu vaccines follow.

    Dropping the current COVID-isolation guideline—which has, since the end of 2021, recommended that people cloister for five days—may likewise be dangerous. Many Americans have long abandoned this isolation timeline, but given how new COVID is to both humanity and science, symptoms alone don’t yet seem enough to determine when mingling is safe, Popescu said. (The dangers are even tougher to gauge for infected people who never develop fevers or other symptoms at all.) Researchers don’t currently have a clear picture of how long people can transmit the virus once they get sick, Sifri told me. For most respiratory illnesses, fevers show up relatively early in infection, which is generally when people pose the most transmission risk, says Aubree Gordon, an epidemiologist at the University of Michigan. But although SARS-CoV-2 adheres to this same rough timeline, infected people can shed the virus after their symptoms begin to resolve and are “definitely shedding longer than what you would usually see for flu,” Gordon told me. (Asked about the specifics and precise timing of the update, a CDC spokesperson told me that there were “no updates to COVID guidelines to announce at this time,” and did not respond to questions about how flu precedents had influenced new recommendations.)

    At the very least, Emily Landon, an infectious-disease physician at the University of Chicago, told me, recommendations for all respiratory illnesses should tell freshly de-isolated people to mask for several days when they’re around others indoors; she would support some change to isolation recommendations with this caveat. But if the CDC aligns the policy fully with its flu policy, it might not mention masking at all.

    Several experts told me symptom-based isolation might also remove remaining incentives to test for the coronavirus: There’s little point if the guidelines for all respiratory illnesses are essentially the same. To be fair, Americans have already been testing less frequently—in some cases, to avoid COVID-specific requirements to stay away from work or school. And Osterholm and Gordon told me that, at this point in the pandemic, they agree that keeping people at home for five days isn’t sustainable—especially without paid sick leave, and particularly not for health-care workers, who are in short supply during the height of respiratory-virus season.

    But the less people test, the less they’ll be diagnosed—and the less they’ll benefit from antivirals such as Paxlovid, which work best when administered early. Sifri worries that this pattern could yield another parallel to flu, for which many providers hesitate to prescribe Tamiflu, debating its effectiveness. Paxlovid use is already shaky; both antivirals may end up chronically underutilized.

    Flu-ification also threatens to further stigmatize long COVID. Other respiratory infections, including flu, have been documented triggering long-term illness, but potentially at lower rates, and to different degrees than SARS-CoV-2 currently does. Folding this new virus in with the rest could make long COVID seem all the more negligible. What’s more, fewer tests and fewer COVID diagnoses could make it much harder to connect any chronic symptoms to this coronavirus, keeping patients out of long-COVID clinics—or reinforcing a false portrait of the condition’s rarity.

    The U.S. does continue to treat COVID differently from flu in a few ways. Certain COVID products remain more available; some precautions in health-care settings remain stricter. But these differences, too, will likely continue to fade, even as COVID’s burden persists. Tests, vaccines, and treatments are slowly commercializing; as demand for them drops, supply may too. And several experts told me that they wouldn’t be surprised if hospitals, too, soon flu-ify their COVID policies even more, for instance by allowing recently infected employees to return to work once they’re fever-free.

    Early in the pandemic, public-health experts hoped that COVID’s tragedies would prompt a rethinking of all respiratory illnesses. The pandemic showed what mitigations could do: During the first year of the crisis, isolation, masking, distancing, and shutdowns brought flu transmission to a near halt, and may have driven an entire lineage of the virus to extinction—something “that never, in my wildest dreams, did I ever think would be possible,” Landon told me.

    Most of those measures weren’t sustainable. But America’s leaders blew right past a middle ground. The U.S. could have built and maintained systems in which everyone had free access to treatments, tests, and vaccines for a longer list of pathogens; it might have invested in widespread ventilation improvements, or enacted universal sick leave. American homes might have been stocked with tests for a multitude of infectious microbes, and masks to wear when people started to cough. Vaccine requirements in health-care settings and schools might have expanded. Instead, “we seem to be in a more 2019-like place than a future where we’re preventing giving each other colds as much as we could,” Bhattacharyya told me.

    That means a return to a world in which tens of thousands of Americans die each year of flu and RSV, as they did in the 2010s. With COVID here to stay, every winter for the foreseeable future will layer on yet another respiratory virus—and a particularly deadly, disabling, and transmissible one at that. The math is simple: “The risk has overall increased for everyone,” Landon said. That straightforward addition could have inspired us to expand our capacity for preserving health and life. Instead, our tolerance for suffering seems to be the only thing that’s grown.

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    Katherine J. Wu

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  • Older Americans Are About to Lose a Lot of Weight

    Older Americans Are About to Lose a Lot of Weight

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    Imagine an older man goes in to see his doctor. He’s 72 years old and moderately overweight: 5-foot-10, 190 pounds. His blood tests show high levels of triglycerides. Given his BMI—27.3—the man qualifies for taking semaglutide or tirzepatide, two of the wildly popular injectable drugs for diabetes and obesity that have produced dramatic weight loss in clinical trials. So he asks for a prescription, because his 50th college reunion is approaching and he’d like to get back to his freshman-year weight.

    He certainly could use these drugs to lose weight, says Thomas Wadden, a clinical psychologist and obesity researcher at the University of Pennsylvania, who recently laid out this hypothetical in an academic paper. But should he? And what about the tens of millions of Americans 65 and older who aren’t simply trying to slim down for a cocktail party, but live with diagnosable obesity? Should they be on Wegovy or Zepbound?

    Already, seniors make up 26.6 percent of the people who have been prescribed these and other GLP-1 agonists, including Ozempic, since 2018, according to a report from Truveta, which draws data from a large network of health-care systems. In the coming years, that proportion could rise even higher: The bipartisan Treat and Reduce Obesity Act, introduced in Congress last July, would allow Medicare to cover drug treatments for obesity among its roughly 50 million Part D enrollees above the age of 65; in principle, about two-fifths of that number would qualify as patients. Even if this law doesn’t pass (and it’s been introduced half a dozen times since 2012), America’s retirees will continue to be prescribed these drugs for diabetes in enormous numbers, and they’ll be losing weight on them as well. One way or another, the Boomers will be giving shape to our Ozempic Age.

    Economists say the cost to Medicare of giving new drugs for obesity to just a fraction of this aging generation would be staggering—$13.6 billion a year, according to an estimate published in The New England Journal of Medicine last March. But the health effects of such a program might also be unsettling. Until recently, the very notion of prescribing any form of weight loss whatsoever to an elderly patient—i.e., someone 65 or older—was considered suspect, even dangerous. “Advising weight loss in obese older adults is still shunned in the medical community,” the geriatric endocrinologist Dennis Villareal and his co-authors wrote in a 2013 “review of the controversy” for a medical journal. More than a decade later, clinicians are still struggling to reach consensus on safety, Villareal told me.

    Ample research shows that interventions for seniors with obesity can resolve associated complications. Wadden helped run a years-long, randomized trial of dramatic calorie reduction—using liquid meal replacements, in part—and stringent exercise advice for thousands of overweight adults with type 2 diabetes. “Clearly the people who were older did have benefits in terms of improved glycemic control and blood-pressure control,” he told me. Other, smaller studies led by Villareal find that older people who succeed at losing weight through diet and exercise end up feeling more robust.

    Such outcomes are significant on their own terms, says John Batsis, who treats and studies geriatric obesity at the UNC School of Medicine. “When we talk about older adults, we really need to be thinking about what’s important to older adults,” he told me. “It’s for them to be able to get on the floor and play with their grandchildren, or to be able to walk down the hallway without being completely exhausted.” But weight loss can also have adverse effects. When a person addresses their obesity through dieting alone, as much as 25 percent of the weight they lose derives from loss of muscle, bone, and other fat-free tissue. For seniors who, through natural aging, are already near the threshold of developing a functional impairment, a sudden drop like this could be enfeebling. Wadden’s trial found that, among the people who were on the weight-loss program for more than a decade, their risk of fracture to the hip, shoulder, upper arm, or pelvis increased by 39 percent. An analogous increase has turned up in studies of patients who undergo bariatric surgery, Batsis told me.

    The effect of dieting on muscle and bone can be attenuated, but not prevented, through resistance training. And obesity itself—which is associated with higher bone density, but perhaps also reduced bone quality—may pose its own fracture risks, Batsis said. But even when a weight-loss treatment benefits an older patient, what happens when it ends? People tend to regain fat, but they don’t recover bone and muscle, Debra Waters, the director of gerontology research at the University of Otago, in New Zealand, told me. That makes the long-term effects of these interventions for older adults very murky. “What happens when they’re 80? Are they going to have really poor bone quality, and be at higher risk of fracture? We don’t know,” Waters said. “It’s a pretty big gamble to take, in my opinion.”

    Villareal told me that doctors should apply “the general principle of starting slow and going slow” when their older patients are trying to lose weight. But that approach doesn’t necessarily square with the rapid and remarkable weight loss seen in patients who are taking semaglutide or tirzepatide, which may produce a greater proportional loss of muscle and bone. (For semaglutide, it appears to be about 40 percent.)

    Then again, when given to laboratory animals, GLP-1 drugs seem to tamp down inflammation in the brain; and they’re now in clinical trials to see whether they might slow the progression of Alzheimer’s disease and dementia. Their multiple established benefits could also help seniors address several chronic problems—diabetes, obesity, fatty liver disease, and kidney disease, for instance—all at once. “Such a ‘one-stop shop’ approach can lead to reduction of medication burden, adverse drug events, hypoglycemic episodes, medication costs, and treatment nonadherence,” one team of geriatricians proposed in 2019.

    Overall, Batsis remains optimistic. “As a clinician, I’m very excited about these medications,” he told me. As a scientist, though, he’s inclined to wait and see. It’s surely true that some degree of weight loss is a great idea for some older patients. “But the million-dollar question is: What’s the sweet spot? How much weight is really enough? Is it 5 to 10 percent? Or is it 25 percent? We don’t know.” Waters said that if Medicare is going to pay for people’s Wegovy, then it should also cover scans of their body composition, to help predict how weight loss might affect their muscles and bones. Wadden said he thinks that treatments should be limited to people who have specific, weight-related complications. For everyone else—as for the hypothetical 72-year-old man who is prepping for his college reunion—he counsels prudence.

    To some extent, such advice is beside the point. Older people are already on Ozempic, and they’re already on Trulicity, and some of them are already taking GLP-1 drugs as a treatment for obesity. Truveta reported that the patients in its member health-care systems who are over 65 have received 281,000 prescriptions for GLP-1 drugs across the past five years. Given the network’s size, one can assume that at least 1 million seniors, overall, have already tried these medications. Millions more will try them in the years to come. If we still have questions about their use, mass experience will start providing answers.

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    Daniel Engber

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  • America Is Having a Senior Moment on Vaccines

    America Is Having a Senior Moment on Vaccines

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    For years now, health experts have been warning that COVID-era politics and the spread of anti-vaxxer lies have brought us to the brink of public-health catastrophe—that a Great Collapse of Vaccination Rates is nigh. This hasn’t come to pass. In spite of deep concerns about a generation of young parents who might soon give up on immunizations altogether—not simply for COVID, but perhaps for all disease—many of the stats we have are looking good. Standard vaccination coverage among babies and toddlers, including the pandemic babies born in 2020, is “high and stable,” the CDC reports. And kindergarteners’ immunization rates, which dipped after the pandemic started, are no longer losing ground.

    Whatever gaps in early childhood vaccination were brought on by the chaos of early 2020 have since been reversed, Alison Buttenheim, a professor of nursing and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, told me: “We’ve substantially caught up, which is incredible. It’s actually an amazing feat.”

    But even in the shadow of this triumph, a more specific crisis in vaccine acceptance has emerged. Americans aren’t now suspicious of inoculations on the whole—the nation isn’t anti-vax—but we have lost faith in yearly COVID shots. Barely any children have been getting them. Among adults, the drop in uptake has been rapid and relentless: By the spring of 2022, 56 percent of all adults had received their initial booster shot; a year later, just 28 percent were up to date; so far this COVID season, just 19 percent can say the same.

    Of course, the dangers from infection have been dropping too. Almost all of us have been exposed to COVID at this point, either through prior immunization, natural infection, or—most likely—both. That makes the disease much less deadly than it’s ever been before. (Among kids, the CDC now attributes “0.00%” of weekly deaths to COVID.) But for one age group in particular—people over 65—the crashing vaccination rates should inspire dread. More than 1,500 deaths each week are still associated with COVID, and almost all of them are senior citizens; current data hint that COVID has been killing seniors at seven times the rate of flu. Across the nation’s nursing homes and retirement communities, the Great Collapse is real.

    Like younger American adults, seniors haven’t been avoiding all recommended immunizations, just the ones for COVID. Their flu-shot rates have gone down a little in the past few years, but only by a handful of percentage points from a pandemic-driven, all-time high of 75 percent. This season, about 70 percent of people over 65 have received their flu vaccine, in line with average rates that haven’t changed that much for decades. In the meantime, seniors’ uptake of the latest COVID shots has fallen off by more than half since 2022, to just 38 percent. These diverging rates—steady for the flu, plummeting for COVID—are notably at odds with the attendant risks. Seniors seem to understand the value of inoculating themselves against the flu. So why do they forgo the same precaution against something so much worse?

    One might blame the toxic political battles around vaccines, and rampant misinformation about their ill effects. “Something terrible has happened to broaden and intensify public rejection of vaccines and other biomedical innovations in the United States,” the vaccine expert Peter Hotez wrote in his recent book The Deadly Rise of Anti-science. Certainly, toxic politics and rampant misinformation exist, but the turn against the experts that Hotez and others have decried doesn’t really fit the emergency described above. Taken as a whole, the population of Americans over 65 is hardly soured on vaccines. Nor are they afraid of COVID vaccination in particular: Though political divides persist, more than 95 percent of seniors received their initial round of shots. More than 95 percent!

    Echoing Hotez in an opinion piece for JAMA that came out last week, the FDA commissioner, Robert Califf, and a senior FDA official named Peter Marks cited the abysmal uptake of COVID shots by senior citizens as one of several signs that the country is nearing “a dangerous tipping point” on vaccination, driven by an oceanic online tide of vaccine misinformation. (Health-care providers should try to stem that tide, they wrote, with “large amounts of truthful, accessible scientific evidence.”) But the volume and intensity of anti-vaccine rhetoric seems to have diminished somewhat since 2022, Buttenheim told me: “You’d have to come up with some reason why it’s having more of an effect now than it did over the past couple of years.”

    Confusion and fatigue may well be bigger factors here than fear or false beliefs. Many Americans, young and old, have long since moved beyond the pandemic in their daily life, and may not want to think about the topic long enough to schedule another shot. The fact that people are fed up with COVID and all of the arguments it spawned is a “major drag on uptake of the vaccine,” Noel Brewer, a professor who studies health behavior at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, told me. Along with many other adults, seniors have also been thrown off by changes in what the shot is called and when it’s recommended for which groups. Buttenheim doesn’t think that people are particularly afraid of this year’s dose. “This is not, like, Back off,” she said. “It’s like, Oh, there is one?

    Another theory holds that the CDC is responsible for this indifference, by pushing yearly COVID shots on people of all ages, including those for whom the net benefits of further vaccination are hard to see. In the U.K., where a much narrower group of people is eligible for updated COVID shots, uptake among seniors has been almost double what it is in the U.S., at 70 percent. That’s not because the British health-care system is better organized than ours—or not only on account of that. Even in that context, British seniors only get their flu shots at a rate that’s slightly higher than American seniors do.

    The broader rollout could contribute to the problem, Rupali Limaye, an epidemiologist who studies health communication at Johns Hopkins University, told me: “When it’s a blanket recommendation, it does dilute the message.” The CDC’s messaging on COVID shots has the benefit of being simple, but at the cost of being less persuasive for the people who are at highest risk. Then again, all Americans above the age of six months are advised to get the flu shot, and more or less the same proportions do so every year. That’s a product of our training, Brewer told me: “The U.S. has invested for decades in developing the habit of getting an annual flu shot. Older adults know that this is the thing they need to do, and they are used to it.”

    Even more important than the habit of getting flu shots is the habit of supplying them. Local clinics, businesses, and retirement communities know how to give these vaccinations (and they understand how the costs will be covered); they’ve been doing this for years. Buttenheim told me that her university sets up a flu-shot clinic every fall, where she can usually get immunized in less than 90 seconds. But the equivalent for COVID shots is yet to become routine. Where the vaccines are available, appointments have been canceled over missing doses or mix-ups with insurance. Government efforts to improve access were delayed.

    With the end of the pandemic emergency, obtaining a COVID shot has simply gotten harder, no matter your intentions or beliefs. “The very well-structured and scaffolded process for getting those vaccines before has just evaporated,” Buttenheim said. For the uptake rates to turn around, a new, post-emergency system for delivery might have to be established, with less confusion over cost and coverage. Even that development alone would do a lot to end the geriatric vaccine crash. If COVID shots could be made as standardized and reflexive as the ones for flu, seasonal vaccination rates might start rising once again, at least until about two-thirds of people over 65 are getting shots. That’s the rate we see for flu shots, and probably an upper limit, Brewer said: “We won’t do better than that.”

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    Daniel Engber

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  • Trump Is Coming for Obamacare Again

    Trump Is Coming for Obamacare Again

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    Donald Trump’s renewed pledge on social media and in campaign rallies to repeal and replace the Affordable Care Act has put him on a collision course with a widening circle of Republican constituencies directly benefiting from the law.

    In 2017, when Trump and congressional Republicans tried and failed to repeal the ACA, also known as Obamacare, they faced the core contradiction that many of the law’s principal beneficiaries were people and institutions that favored the GOP. That list included lower-middle-income workers without college degrees, older adults in the final years before retirement, and rural communities.

    In the years since then, the number of people in each of those groups relying on the ACA has grown. More than 40 million Americans now receive health coverage through the law, about 50 percent more than the roughly 27 million the ACA covered during the repeal fight in 2017. In the intervening years, nine more states, most of them reliably Republican, have accepted the law’s federal funding to expand access to Medicaid for low-income working adults.

    “Republicans came very close to repealing and replacing the ACA in 2017, but that may have been their best window before the law had fully taken hold and so many people have benefited from it,” Larry Levitt, the executive vice president for health policy at KFF, a nonpartisan think tank that studies health-care issues, told me. “I think it gets harder and harder to repeal as more people benefit.”

    Trump’s repeated declarations over the past several weeks that he intends to finally repeal the ACA if reelected surprised many Republicans. Few GOP leaders have talked about uprooting the law since the party’s last effort failed, during Trump’s first year as president. At that point, Republicans controlled both chambers of Congress. But whereas the House, with Trump’s enthusiastic support, narrowly voted to rescind the law, the Senate narrowly rejected repeal. Three GOP senators blocked the repeal effort by voting no—including the late Senator John McCain, who dramatically doomed the proposal by signaling thumbs-down on the Senate floor. (Trump mocked McCain while calling the ACA “a catastrophe” as he campaigned in Iowa last weekend.)

    Republicans lost any further opportunity to repeal the law in the 2018 election when Democrats regained control of the House of Representatives. With the legislative route blocked, Trump instead pursued an array of regulatory and legal efforts to weaken the ACA during his final years in office. But since the 2017 vote, the GOP has never again held the unified control of the White House, the House, and the Senate required to launch a serious legislative repeal effort.

    If Republicans did win unified control of Congress and the White House next November, most health-care experts I spoke with agreed that Trump would follow through on his promises to again target the ACA. Leslie Dach, the founder of Protect Our Care, a liberal group that supports the law, says that he takes Trump’s pledge to pursue repeal seriously, “because he is still trying to overturn the legacy of John McCain, and it’s one of the few things he lost. He doesn’t like to be a loser.”

    Trump hasn’t specified his plan to replace the ACA. But whatever alternative Trump develops will inevitably face one of the main problems that confounded Republicans’ last attempt at repeal: Every plan they put forward raised costs and diminished access to care for core groups in their electoral coalition.

    That was apparent in the contrast between how the ACA and the GOP alternatives treated the individual insurance market. The ACA created exchanges where the uninsured could buy coverage, provided them with subsidies to help them afford it, and changed the rules about what kind of policies insurers could sell them. Key among those changes were provisions that barred insurers from denying coverage to people with preexisting health conditions, required them to offer a broad package of essential health benefits in all policies, and prevented them from charging older consumers more than three times the premiums of younger people.

    The common effect of all these and many other requirements was to require greater risk sharing in the insurance markets. The ACA made coverage in the individual insurance market more available and affordable for older and sicker consumers partly by requiring younger and healthier consumers to purchase more expensive and comprehensive plans than they might have bought before the law went into effect. That shift generated complaints from relatively younger and healthier consumers in the ACA’s early years as their premiums increased.

    Every alternative that Republicans proposed during the Trump years sought to lower premiums by unraveling the ACA provisions that required more sharing of risks and costs. For instance, the House GOP plan allowed insurers to charge seniors five times as much as young people, reduced the number of guaranteed essential benefits, and allowed states to exempt insurers from the requirement to cover all applicants with preexisting health conditions.

    One problem the GOP faced was that although this approach might have lowered premiums for the young and healthy (albeit while leaving them with less comprehensive coverage), it would have significantly raised costs and reduced access for the old or sick. “A lot of ‘repeal and replace’ was putting more cost back on people with health-care problems,” Linda Blumberg, an institute fellow at the Urban Institute’s Health Policy Center, told me. The Rand Corporation calculated that for individuals with modest incomes, the House GOP plan would have cut premiums for the majority of those under age 45 while raising them for virtually everyone older than 45. The Congressional Budget Office, in its assessment of the House-passed GOP bill, projected that it would nearly double the number of people without health insurance by 2026, and that the greatest coverage losses would happen “among older people with lower income.”

    As I wrote in 2017, the paradox was that the Republican plans would have hurt older working-age adults—a preponderantly GOP-leaning constituency—while lowering costs for younger generations that mostly vote Democratic. I called this inversion the “Trumpcare conundrum.”

    The congressional Republican alternatives to the ACA under Trump also uniformly made deep cuts to Medicaid, the joint state-federal health-care program for low-income people. But GOP constituencies were big winners as well in the ACA provisions that expanded eligibility for Medicaid.

    Until the ACA, Medicaid was generally available only to adults earning less than the federal poverty level. But the law provided states with generous federal financing to expand coverage to low-income individuals earning up to 138 percent of the poverty level. Particularly in interior states, research showed that many of those low-income workers covered under the Medicaid expansion were white people without a college degree, the cornerstone of the modern Republican electoral coalition.

    Another big beneficiary from the Medicaid expansion was rural communities, which have become more reliably Republican in the Trump years. Expanding access to Medicaid was especially important to rural places because studies have consistently found that more people in those areas than in metropolitan centers suffer from chronic health problems, while fewer obtain health insurance from their employer, and more lack insurance altogether.

    The increased number of people covered under Medicaid gave rural hospitals a lifeline by reducing the amount of uncompensated care they needed to provide for patients lacking insurance. “When you go out to the rural areas, frankly most hospital executives, like other business people, they tend to be pretty conservative,” Timothy McBride, a co-director of the Center for Advancing Health Services, Policy & Economics Research at Washington University in St. Louis, told me. “And they don’t like government intervention. But I would go to see these people and they would say, ‘I’m for Medicaid expansion,’ because they had to deal with the uninsured.”

    The Medicaid expansion also quickly became a crucial source of financing for addiction treatment in states ravaged through the 2010s by the opioid epidemic. Before the ACA, addiction treatment programs relied on “a little bit of block grant money here, a local voucher there, kind of out-of-pocket payments, and a little bit of spit and glue,” Brendan Saloner, a professor at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health who studies addiction, told me. “Then Medicaid came along, and it provided a much more reliable and stable source of payment.”

    Since the 2017 legislative battle, the ACA’s impact on all these fronts has only deepened. Biden and congressional Democrats both increased the federal subsidies to buy insurance on the Obamacare exchanges and expanded eligibility to families further into the middle class. Largely as a result, the number of people obtaining insurance through the exchanges soared from about 10 million then to more than 15 million as of this past December.

    Similarly, a majority of the 31 states that had expanded Medicaid by 2017 were solidly Democratic-leaning. But the nine additional states that have broadened eligibility since then include seven that voted for Trump in 2016 and 2020.

    That has not only increased the total number of low-income workers covered through the Medicaid expansion (from about 16 million then to well over 24 million now), but also broadened the red-state constituency for the ACA. McBride estimates that the federal government has annually pumped $2 billion into the health-care system in Missouri alone since voters there approved a Medicaid expansion in 2020. The federal Department of Health and Human Services recently calculated that the likelihood of rural hospitals closing was more than twice as high in the states that have refused to expand Medicaid than in those that have. Simultaneously, the amount of funding that Medicaid provides for the treatment of substance abuse has at least doubled since 2014, allowing it to serve nearly 5 million people, according to calculations by Tami Mark, a distinguished fellow in behavioral health at RTI International, a nonprofit independent research institute.

    Even more fundamentally, Blumberg argues, the pandemic showed the ACA’s value as a safety net. Through either the exchanges or Medicaid, the law provided coverage to millions who lost their job, and insurance, during the crisis. “This law was critical in protecting us from unforeseen circumstances even beyond the value that people had seen in 2017,” she told me. “If we had not had that in place, we would have seen massive amounts of uninsurance and people who could not have accessed vaccines and could not have accessed medical care when they became sick.”

    For all of these reasons and more, Douglas Holtz-Eakin, the president of the American Action Forum, a conservative think tank, told me that he believes it’s a mistake for Trump and the GOP to seek repeal once again. Holtz-Eakin, a former director of the Congressional Budget Office, remains critical of the ACA, which he says has not done enough to improve the quality of coverage or control costs.

    But, he points out, during the Trump years, Republicans succeeded in repealing some of the law’s elements that they disliked most, including the tax penalty on uninsured people who did not buy coverage. “I don’t think we should be happy with the current system,” Holtz-Eakin told me. “But it’s not fruitful to try to roll the clock back to 2010.”

    Beyond the policy challenges of excising the ACA from the health-care system, the political landscape also appears less hospitable to a renewed repeal drive. In 2017, KFF polling found that the share of Americans who viewed the law favorably only slightly exceeded the share dubious of it; in the group’s most recent survey measuring attitudes toward the law, more than three-fifths of Americans expressed favorable views, while only slightly more than one-third viewed it negatively. Support for individual provisions in the law, such as the ban on denying coverage because of preexisting conditions or the requirement that insurers allow kids to stay on their parents’ plans through age 26, runs even higher in polls.

    Yet even with all these obstacles, Trump’s promise to seek repeal again virtually ensures another round of the ACA war next year if Republicans win unified control of the federal government. By historical standards, that’s a remarkable, even unprecedented, prospect. Though Barry Goldwater, the 1964 GOP nominee, had opposed the creation of Medicare, for instance, no Republican presidential nominee ever proposed to repeal it after Lyndon B. Johnson signed it into law in 1965.

    If Trump wins the nomination, by contrast, it would mark the fourth consecutive time the GOP nominee has run on ending the ACA. (Among Trump’s main competitors, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis has also promised to produce an alternative to the ACA, and Nikki Haley, who has spoken less definitively on the topic, might feel irresistible pressure to embrace repeal too.) Congressional Republicans may have been surprised that Trump committed them to charging up that hill again, but that doesn’t mean they would refuse his command to do so. “He wants to reverse a loss and take it off the books,” Dach told me. “And we’ve learned that that party follows him. It’s not like they are going to stand up against him, especially in the House. They will destroy the law if they can.”

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    Ronald Brownstein

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  • Winter Illness This Year Is a Different Kind of Ugly

    Winter Illness This Year Is a Different Kind of Ugly

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    Earlier this month, Taison Bell walked into the intensive-care unit at UVA Health and discovered that half of the patients under his care could no longer breathe on their own. All of them had been put on ventilators or high-flow oxygen. “It was early 2022 the last time I saw that,” Bell, an infectious-disease and critical-care physician at the hospital, told me—right around the time that the original Omicron variant was ripping through the region and shattering COVID-case records. This time, though, the coronavirus, flu, and RSV were coming together to fill UVA’s wards—“all at the same time,” Bell said.

    Since COVID’s arrival, experts have been fearfully predicting a winter worst: three respiratory-virus epidemics washing over the U.S. at once. Last year, those fears didn’t really play out, Sam Scarpino, an infectious-disease modeler at Northeastern University, told me. But this year, “we’re set up for that to happen,” as RSV, flu, and COVID threaten to crest in near synchrony. The situation is looking grim enough that the CDC released an urgent call last Thursday for more vaccination for all three pathogens—the first time it has struck such a note on seasonal immunizations since the pandemic began.

    Nationwide, health-care systems aren’t yet in crisis mode. Barring an unexpected twist in viral evolution, a repeat of that first terrible Omicron winter seems highly unlikely. Nor is the U.S. necessarily fated for an encore of last year’s horrors, when enormous, early waves of RSV, then flu, slammed the country, filling pediatric emergency departments and ICUs past capacity, to the point where some hospitals began to pitch temporary tents outside to accommodate overflow. On the contrary, more so than any other year since SARS-CoV-2 appeared, our usual respiratory viruses “seem to be kind of getting back to their old patterns” with regard to timing and magnitude, Kathryn Edwards, a vaccine and infectious-disease expert at Vanderbilt University, told me.

    But even so-so seasons of RSV, flu, and SARS-CoV-2 could create catastrophe if piled on top of one another. “It really doesn’t take much for any of these three viruses to tip the scale and strain hospitals,” Debra Houry, the CDC’s chief medical officer, told me. It also—in theory—shouldn’t take much to waylay the potential health-care crisis ahead. For the first time in history, the U.S. is offering vaccines against flu, COVID, and RSV: “We have three opportunities to prevent three different viral infections,” Grace Lee, a pediatrician at Stanford, told me. And yet, Americans have all but ignored the shots being offered to them.

    So far, flu-shot uptake is undershooting last year’s rate. According to recent polls, as many as half of surveyed Americans probably or definitely aren’t planning to get this year’s updated COVID-19 vaccine. RSV shots, approved for older adults in May and for pregnant people in August, have been struggling to get a foothold at all. Distributed to everyone eligible to receive them, this trifecta of shots could keep as many as hundreds of thousands of Americans out of emergency departments and ICUs this year. But that won’t happen if people continue to shirk protection. The specific tragedy of this coming winter will be that any suffering was that much more avoidable.

    Much of the agony of last year’s respiratory season can be chalked up to a terrible combination of timing and intensity. A wave of RSV hit the nation early and hard, peaking in November and leaving hospitals no time to recover before flu—also ahead of schedule—soared toward a December maximum. Children bore the brunt of these onslaughts, after spending years protected from respiratory infections by pandemic mitigations. “When masks came down, infections went up,” Lee told me. Babies and toddlers were falling seriously sick with their first respiratory illnesses—but so were plenty of older kids who had skipped the typical infections of infancy. With the health-care workforce still burnt out and substantially pared down from a pandemic exodus, hospitals ended up overwhelmed. “We just did not have enough capacity to take care of the kids we wanted to be able to take care of,” Lee said. Providers triaged cases over the phone; parents spent hours cradling their sick kids in packed waiting rooms.

    And yet, one of the biggest fears about last year’s season didn’t unfold: waves of RSV, flu, and COVID cresting all at once. COVID’s winter peak didn’t come until January, after RSV and flu had substantially died down. Now, though, RSV is hovering around the high it has maintained for weeks, COVID hospitalizations have been on a slow but steady rise, and influenza, after simmering in near-total quietude, seems to be “really taking off,” Scarpino told me. None of the three viruses has yet approached last season’s highs. But a confluence of all of them would be more than many hospitals could take. Across the country, many emergency departments and ICUs are nearing or at capacity. “We’re treading water okay right now,” Sallie Permar, the chief pediatrician at Weill Cornell Medical Center and NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital, told me. “Add much more, and we’re thrown into a similar situation as last year.”

    That forecast isn’t certain. RSV, which has been dancing around a national peak, could start quickly declining; flu could take its time to reach an apex. COVID, too, remains a wild card: It has not yet settled into a predictable pattern of ebb and flow, and won’t necessarily maintain or exceed its current pace. This season may still be calmer than last, and impacts of these diseases similarly, or even more, spaced out.

    But several experts told me that they think substantial overlap in the coming weeks is a likely scenario. Timing is ripe for spread, with the holiday season in full swing and people rushing through travel hubs on the way to family gatherings. Masking and testing rates remain low, and many people are back to shrugging off symptoms, heading to work or school or social events while potentially still infectious. Nor do the viruses themselves seem to be cutting us a break. Last year’s flu season, for instance, was mostly dominated by a single strain, H3N2. This year, multiple flu strains of different types appear to be on a concomitant rise, making it that much more likely that people will catch some version of the virus, or even multiple versions in quick succession. The health-care workforce is, in many ways, in better shape this year. Staffing shortages aren’t quite as dire, Permar told me, and many experts are better prepared to deal with multiple viruses at once, especially in pediatric care. Kids are also more experienced with these bugs than they were this time last year. But masking is no longer as consistent a fixture in health-care settings as it was even at the start of 2023. And should RSV, flu, and COVID flood communities simultaneously, new issues—including co-infections, which remain poorly understood—could arise. (Other respiratory illnesses are still circulating too.) There’s a lot experts just can’t anticipate: We simply haven’t yet had a year when these three viruses have truly inundated us at once.

    Vaccines, of course, would temper some of the trouble—which is part of the reason the CDC issued its clarion call, Houry told me. But Americans don’t seem terribly interested in getting the shots they’re eligible for. Flu-shot uptake is down across all age groups compared with last year—even among older adults and pregnant people, who are at especially high risk. And although COVID vaccination is bumping along at a comparable pace to 2022, the rates remain “atrocious,” Bell told me, especially among children. RSV vaccines have reached just 17 percent of the population over the age of 60. Among pregnant people, the other group eligible for the vaccines, uptake has been stymied by delays and confusion over whether they qualify. Some of Permar’s pregnant physician colleagues have been turned away from pharmacies, she told me, or been told their shots might not be covered by insurance. “And then some of those same parents have babies who end up in the hospital with RSV,” she said. Infants were also supposed to be able to get a passive form of immunity from monoclonal antibodies. But those drugs have been scarce nationwide, forcing providers to restrict their use to babies at highest risk—yet another way in which actual protection against respiratory disease has fallen short of potential. “There was a lot of excitement and hope that the monoclonal was going to be the answer and that everybody could get it,” Edwards told me. “But then it became very apparent that this just functionally wasn’t going to be able to happen.”

    Last year, at least some of the respiratory-virus misery had become inevitable: After the U.S. dropped pandemic mitigations, pathogens were fated to come roaring back. The early arrivals of RSV and flu (especially on the heels of an intense summer surge of enterovirus and rhinovirus) also left little time for people to prepare. And of course, RSV vaccines weren’t yet around. This year, though, timing has been kinder, immunity stronger, and our arsenal of tools better supplied. High uptake of shots would undoubtedly lower rates of severe disease and curb community spread; it would preserve hospital capacity, and make schools and workplaces and travel hubs safer to move through. Waves of illness would peak lower and contract faster. Some might never unfold at all.

    But so far, we’re collectively squandering our chance to shore up our defense. “It’s like we’re rushing into battle without armor,” Bell told me, even though local officials have been begging people to ready themselves for months. Which all makes this year feel terrible in a different kind of way. Whatever happens in the coming weeks and months will be a worse version of what it could have been—a season of opportunities missed.

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    Katherine J. Wu

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  • You Really Don’t Want to Be Thirsty in a Heat Wave

    You Really Don’t Want to Be Thirsty in a Heat Wave

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    The heat—miserable and oppressive—is not abating. Today, a third of Americans are under a heat alert as temperatures keep breaking records: Phoenix has hit 110 degrees Fahrenheit for two weeks straight, while this weekend Death Valley in California could surpass the all-time high of 130 degrees.

    Even less extreme heat than that can be dangerous. Recently, in Texas, Louisiana, part of Arizona, and Florida, there have been reports of deaths from heat, and many more hospitalizations. The toll of a heat wave is not always clear in the moment: A new report suggests that last summer’s historic heat wave in Europe killed more than 60,000 people.

    Ideally, you’d stay in the air-conditioned indoors as much as possible. That’s not an option for everyone. The other thing to do is stay hydrated. The importance of getting enough fluid is hard to overstate—and often underappreciated: Last month, the Texas state legislature banned local governments from mandating water breaks for construction workers. In the heat, hydration “impacts everything,” Stavros Kavouras, the director of the Hydration Science Lab at Arizona State University, in Phoenix, told me. And with temperatures continuing to rise, it’s essential to get it right.

    Serious dehydration is really, really bad for you. Your blood volume decreases, which makes your heart work less effectively. “Your ability to thermoregulate declines,” Kavouras told me, “so your body temperature is getting higher and higher.” You might feel weak or dizzy. Your heart rate rises; it gets harder to focus. The worst-case scenario is heatstroke, when your body stops being able to cool itself—a  potentially fatal medical emergency.

    In extreme temperatures, heat injuries can happen quicker than you might think. Given that the human body is mostly water, you might assume that there is some to spare, but inconveniently, this is not the case. “If you lose even 10 percent of [the water] your body has, you are entering the zone of serious clinical dehydration,” Kavouras said. “And if you look at optimal health, even losing just 1 percent of your body weight impacts your ability to function.” There are two basic ways your body cools itself when it gets hot. One is to send more blood to the skin, which releases heat from the core of your body, and is the reason you turn red when you’re overheated. The other is to sweat. It evaporates off your body, and in the process, your body loses excess heat. You can’t cool yourself as effectively if you’re not properly hydrated. At the same time, one of your main cooling mechanisms is actively dehydrating, which means the goal is not just to be hydrated, but to stay that way.

    What that takes depends on many factors rather than a single universal rule, but in general, the danger zone is “high humidity with anything above 90 degrees,” Kavouras said, at which point, “it’s actually dangerous” just to be outside. The more active you are in the heat, and the hotter and more humid it is, the greater the risk—and the more important proper hydration becomes. The standard water target in the U.S. during non-heat-wave times is 3.7 liters a day for men and 2.7 liters for women. When it’s very, very hot out, you need more. Even if you spend most of the day in the bliss of AC, you are almost certainly leaving the house at some point.

    Instead of trying to figure out what that precise amount should be, Kavouras recommends you focus on two things instead. “No. 1, keep water close to you. If you have water close to you, or whatever healthy beverage, you’ll end up drinking more, just because it’s closer,” he said. And second: Keep an eye on how often you pee—pale urine, six to seven times a day, or every two to three hours, is good. You want it to be “basically like a Chablis, a Riesling, Pinot Grigio, or champagne-colored,” John Higgins, a sports cardiologist at McGovern Medical School at UTHealth, in Houston, told me. “If you notice the urine is getting darker, like a Chardonnay- or Sauvignon Blanc–type of thing, that generally means you are dehydrated.”

    Certain groups are especially at risk. Older adults are more prone to dehydration, as are young children, people who are pregnant, and people taking certain medications—blood-pressure medications, for example. None of this requires you to take in extra fluids per se, just that you need to be even more careful that you’re getting enough.

    As for what to drink, as a go-to beverage, straight water is hard to beat. Water with fruit slices floating in it has the benefit of feeling like something from a luxury hotel. Carbonated water is also good—you might not be able to drink quite as much of it, which is a potential drawback, but “there is no mechanism in your GI system that will make sparkling water less effective at hydrating you,” Kavouras said. You probably want to avoid downing giant buckets of coffee—caffeine is a diuretic in large quantities and Higgins warns against sugary drinks for the same reason. (A daily iced coffee is fine.) If you’re doing hours of heavy sweating, then you might work in some (less sugary) sports drinks. But for the majority of people, water remains the ideal. Food can also be a fluid source: “Make sure you’re eating a diet that’s rich in vegetables and fruits that have water content,” William Adams, the director of the University of North Carolina at Greensboro’s Hydration, Environment and Thermal (H.E.A.T) Stress Lab, advised. Alcohol, which causes you to lose fluid, is definitively unhelpful.

    There are lots of water myths out there. Can you go too hard? Technically, it’s possible to over-hydrate, causing an electrolyte imbalance, but all three experts agreed that for most people, this isn’t really a concern. You can find arguments for drinking hot drinks in the summer—the idea being that they increase the amount you sweat, thereby promoting cooling. But Kavouras is emphatic that you’re better off with cold drinks, which cool your body, he said. In the moments before a race, marathon runners will sometimes take it one step further, slurping ice slurries to lower their body temperature. For good old-fashioned drinking water, about 50 degrees Fahrenheit is best—roughly the temperature of cool water from the tap.

    One final key to staying hydrated: Start early. A lot of people, Higgins said, are lightly dehydrated all the time, heat wave or not. “So particularly when you first wake up in the morning, typically you are in a dehydrated state.” Accordingly, he recommends that people drink about a standard water bottle’s worth—roughly 17 ounces—as soon as they wake up. The other thing people forget about, he said, is what happens when they come back inside after enduring the outdoors. “You keep sweating,” he pointed out. In other words: hydrate, and then keep hydrating.

    As crucial as hydration is, it is not a miracle. “It doesn’t mean that you can say, ‘I hydrate well, so I’ll go out for a run in the 120-degree weather, and I’ll be fine because I’m drinking a lot,’” Kavouras said. “It doesn’t work this way.” Still, it is a simple but effective tool. As heat waves like this one become even more frequent, many more people will need to learn how to become attuned to their hydration. And perhaps adequate water can be a perverse sort of comfort: You can’t control the unrelenting heat, but you likely can control your water intake. In a heat wave, it helps to have a glass-half-full attitude—and an emptied glass of water.


    This story is part of the Atlantic Planet series supported by HHMI’s Science and Educational Media Group.

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    Rachel Sugar

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  • A Gaping Hole in Cancer-Therapy Trials

    A Gaping Hole in Cancer-Therapy Trials

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    This article was originally published by Undark Magazine.

    In October 2021, 84-year-old Jim Yeldell was diagnosed with Stage 3 lung cancer. The first drug he tried disrupted his balance and coordination, so his doctor halved the dose to minimize these side effects, Yeldell recalls. In addition, his physician recommended a course of treatment that included chemotherapy, radiation, and a drug targeting a specific genetic mutation. This combination can be extremely effective—at least in younger people—but it can also be “incredibly toxic” in older, frail people, says Elizabeth Kvale, a palliative-care specialist at Baylor College of Medicine, and also Yeldell’s daughter-in-law.

    Older patients are often underrepresented in clinical trials of new cancer treatments, including the one offered to Yeldell. As a result, he only learned of the potential for toxicity because his daughter-in-law had witnessed the treatment’s severe side effects in the older adults at her clinic.

    This dearth of age-specific data has profound implications for clinical care, because older adults are more likely than younger people to be diagnosed with cancer. In the U.S., approximately 42 percent of people with cancer are over the age of 70—a number that could grow in the years to come—yet they comprise less than a quarter of the people in clinical trials to test new cancer treatments. Many of those who do participate are the healthiest of the aged, who may not have common age-related conditions like diabetes or poor kidney or heart function, says Mina Sedrak, a medical oncologist and the deputy director of the Center for Cancer and Aging at City of Hope National Medical Center.

    For decades, clinical trials have tended to exclude older participants for reasons that include concerns about preexisting conditions and other medications and participants’ ability to travel to trial locations. As a result, clinicians cannot be as certain that approved cancer drugs will work as predicted in clinical trials for the people most likely to have cancer. This dearth of data means that older cancer patients must decide if they want to pursue a treatment that might yield fewer benefits—and cause more side effects—than it did for younger people in the clinical trial.

    This evidence gap extends across the spectrum of cancer treatments—from chemotherapy and radiation to immune-checkpoint inhibitors—with sometimes-dire results. Many forms of chemotherapy, for example, have proved to be more toxic in older adults, a discovery that came only after the drugs were approved for use in this population. “This is a huge problem,” Sedrak says. In an effort to minimize side effects, doctors will often tweak the dose or duration of medications that are given to older adults, but these physicians are doing this without any real guidance.

    Despite recommendations from funders and regulators, as well as extensive media coverage, not much has changed in the past three decades. “We’re in this space where everyone agrees this is a problem, but there’s very little guidance on how to do better for older adults,” Kvale says. “The consequences in the real world are stark.”


    Post-approval studies of cancer drugs have helped shed light on the disconnect between how these drugs are used in clinical trials and how they are used in clinics around the country.

    For example, when Cary Gross, a physician and cancer researcher at Yale, set out to study the use of a new kind of cancer drug known as an immune-checkpoint inhibitor, he knew that most clinicians were well aware that clinical trials overlooked older patients. Gross’s research team suspected that some doctors might be wary of offering older adults the treatments, which work by preventing immune cells from switching off, thus allowing them to kill cancer cells. “Maybe they’re going to be more careful,” he says, and offer the intervention to younger patients first.

    But in a 2018 analysis of more than 3,000 patients, Gross and his colleagues found that within four months of approval by the FDA, most patients eligible to receive a class of immune-checkpoint inhibitors were being prescribed the drugs. And the patients receiving this treatment in clinics were significantly older than those in the clinical trials. “Oncologists were very ready to give these drugs to the older patients, even though they’re not as well represented,” Gross says.

    In another analysis, published this year, Gross and his colleagues examined how these drugs helped people diagnosed with certain types of lung cancer. The team found that the drugs extended the life of patients under the age of 55 by a median of four and a half months, but only by a month in those over the age of 75.

    The evidence doesn’t suggest that checkpoint inhibitors aren’t helpful for many patients, Gross says. But it’s important to identify which particular populations are helped the most by these drugs. “I thought that we would see a greater survival benefit than we did,” he says. “It really calls into question how we’re doing research, and we really have to double down on doing more research that includes older patients.”

    People over the age of 65 don’t fare well with other types of cancer treatments either. About half of older patients with advanced cancer experience severe and even potentially life-threatening side effects with chemotherapy, which can lead oncologists to lower medication doses, as in Yeldell’s case.

    There’s a strong connection between the lack of evidence from clinical trials and worse outcomes in the clinic, according to Kvale. “There’s a lot of enthusiasm for these medicines that don’t seem so toxic up front,” she says, “but understanding where they do or don’t work well is key—not just because of the efficacy, but because those drugs are almost toxically expensive sometimes.”

    Since the earliest reports of this data gap, regulators and researchers have tried to fix the problem. Changes to clinical trials have, in principle, made it easier for older adults to sign up. For instance, fewer and fewer studies have an upper age limit for participants. Last year, the FDA issued guidance to industry-funded trials recommending the inclusion of older adults and relaxing other criteria, to allow for participants with natural age-related declines. Still, the problem persists.

    When Sedrak and his colleagues set out to understand why the needle had moved so little over the past few decades, their analysis found a number of explanations, beginning with eligibility criteria that may inadvertently disqualify older adults. Physicians may also be concerned about their older patients’ ability to tolerate unknown side effects of new drugs. Patients and caregivers share these concerns. The logistics of participation can also prove problematic.

    “But of all these, the main driving force, the upstream force, is that trials are not designed with older adults in mind,” Sedrak says. Clinical trials tend to focus on survival, and although older adults do care about this, many of them have other motivations—and concerns—when considering treatment.


    Clinical trials are generally geared toward measuring improvements in health: They may track the size of tumors or months of life gained. These issues aren’t always top of mind for older adults, according to Sedrak. He says he’s more likely to hear questions about how side effects may influence the patient’s cognitive function, ability to live independently, and more. “We don’t design trials that capture the end points that older adults want to know,” he says.

    As a group, older adults do experience more side effects, sometimes so severe that the cure rivals the disease. In the absence of evidence from clinical trials, clinicians and patients have tried to find other ways to predict how a patient’s age might influence their response to treatment. In Yeldell’s case, discussions with Kvale and his care team led him to choose a less intensive course of treatment that has kept his cancer stable since October 2022. He continues to live in his own home and exercises with a trainer three times a week.

    For others trying to weigh their choices, researchers are developing tools that can create a more complete picture by accounting for a person’s physiological age. In a 2021 clinical trial, Supriya Mohile, a geriatric oncologist at the University of Rochester, and her colleagues tested the use of one such tool, known as a geriatric assessment, on the side effects and toxicity of cancer treatments. The tool assesses a person’s biological age based on various physiological tests.

    The team recruited more than 700 people with an average age of 77 who were about to embark on a new cancer-treatment regimen with a high risk of toxicity. Roughly half of the participants received guided treatment-management recommendations based on a geriatric assessment, which their oncologists factored into their treatment decisions. Only half of this group of patients experienced serious side effects from chemotherapy, compared with 71 percent of those who didn’t receive specialized treatment recommendations.

    This type of assessment can help avoid both undertreatment of people who might benefit from chemotherapy and overtreatment of those at risk of serious side effects, Mohile says. It doesn’t compensate for the lack of data on older adults. But in the absence of that evidence, tools such as geriatric assessment can help clinicians, patients, and families make better-informed choices. “We’re kind of going backwards around the problem,” Mohile says. Although geriatric oncologists recognize the need for better ways to make decisions, she says, “I think the geriatric assessment needs to be implemented until we have better clinical-trial data.”

    Since 2018, the American Society of Clinical Oncology has recommended the use of geriatric assessment to guide cancer care for older patients. But clinicians have been slow to follow through in their practice, in part because the assessment doesn’t necessarily show any cancer-specific benefits, such as tumors shrinking and people living longer. Instead, the tool’s main purpose is to improve quality of life. “We need more prospective therapeutic trials in older adults, but we also need all of these other mechanisms to be funded,” Mohile says, “So we actually know what to do for older adults who are in the real world.”

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    Jyoti Madhusoodanan

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  • Wildfire Masking Is Just Different

    Wildfire Masking Is Just Different

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    Late last night, New Yorkers were served a public-health recommendation with a huge helping of déjà vu: “If you are an older adult or have heart or breathing problems and need to be outside,” city officials said in a statement, “wear a high-quality mask (e.g. N95 or KN95).”

    It was, in one sense, very familiar advice—and also very much not. This time, the threat isn’t viral, or infectious at all. Instead, masks are being urged as a precaution against the thick, choking plumes of smoke from Canada, where wildfires have been igniting for weeks. The latest swaths of the United States to come into the crosshairs are the Midwest, Ohio Valley, Northeast, and Mid-Atlantic.

    The situation is, in a word, bad. Yesterday, New Haven, Connecticut, logged its worst air-quality reading on record; in parts of New York and Pennsylvania, some towns have been shrouded in pollutants at levels the Environmental Protection Agency deems “hazardous”—the more severe designation on its list. It is, to put it lightly, an absolutely terrible time to go outside. And for those who “have to go outdoors,” says Linsey Marr, an environmental engineer at Virginia Tech, “I’d strongly recommend wearing a mask.”

    The masking advice might understandably spark some whiplash. For the majority of Americans, face coverings are still most saliently a COVID thing—a protective covering meant to be worn when engaging in risky gatherings indoors. Now, though, we’re having to flip the masking script: Right now, it’s outdoor air that we most want to guard our airways against. In more ways than one, the best masking practices in this moment will require snubbing some of our basest COVID-fighting instincts.

    The COVID masking mindset can, to be fair, still be helpful to game out the risks at play. Viral outbreaks and wildfires both introduce dangerous particles into the eyes and the airway; both can be blocked with the right barriers. The difference is the source: Pathogens travel primarily aboard people, making crowds and crummy indoor airflow some of the biggest risks; fires and their smoky, ashy by-products, meanwhile, can get stoked and moved about by the very outdoor winds we welcome during viral outbreaks. Conflagrations clog the air with all sorts of pollutants—among them, carbon monoxide, which can poison people by starving them of oxygen, and a class of chemicals called polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons that’s been linked to increased cancer risk. But the primary perils are the fine-particulate-matter components of soot, ash, and dust, fine enough to be borne over great distances until they reach an unsuspecting face.

    Once breathed in, these particles, which the EPA tracks by a metric known as PM2.5, can deposit deep in the airway and possibly even infiltrate the blood. The flecks irritate the moist membranes that line the nose, mouth, lungs, and eyes; they spark bouts of inflammation, triggering itching and irritation. Chronic exposure to them has been linked to heart and lung issues, and the risks are especially high for individuals with chronic medical conditions—burdens that concentrate among people of color and the poor—as well as for older adults and children.

    But N95s and many other high-quality masks have their roots in environmental health; they were designed specifically to filter out microscopic particulate matter that travels through the air. And they’re astoundingly good at their job. Jose-Luis Jimenez, an aerosol scientist at the University of Colorado at Boulder, recently put their performance to the test with an N95 strapped to his own face. Using an industry-standard test, he measured the particulate matter outside the mask, then checked how much made it through the device and into the space around his nose and mouth. Percentage-wise, he told me, “it removes 99.99 … I didn’t measure how many nines; it was working so well.” On broader scales, too, the protective math plays out: Well-fitting masks can curb smoke-related hospitalizations; studies back up their importance as a firefighting mainstay.

    The key, Jimenez told me, is choosing the right mask and getting it flush against your face. Experts in the field even get professionally fit-tested to avoid contamination infiltrating through any gaps. Surgical masks, cloth masks, or any other loose accessories that aren’t specifically designed to filter out tiny particles just won’t do the trick, though they’re still better than not covering up at all. (If that sounds familiar, it should; viral or smoky, “masks don’t care what the particle is,” Marr told me. “They care about the size.”)

    N95 masks aren’t perfect protectives either. They don’t shield the eyes, and they aren’t great at staving off carbon monoxide and the other gaseous pollutants that wildfires emit. (That’s for a reason: Allowing gas through masks is how we continue to breathe while wearing them.) But gases are volatile and quickly dissipate; for Americans hundreds or even thousands of miles from the source of the smoke, “it’s going to be the particulate matter that is most concerning to us,” Marr told me. Even in the parts of New York and Pennsylvania where PM2.5 has rocketed up to dangerous levels, the carbon-monoxide stats have remained low.

    Considering how dicey the discourse over masking has gotten, masking advice won’t necessarily be embraced by all. Less than a month after the official end of the United States’ COVID public-health emergency, people are fatigued by face coverings and other mitigations. And we’re fast entering the stretch of the year when having synthetic polymer fabrics strapped across your face can get downright miserable, especially in the humidity of northeastern heat. But when it comes to avoiding the harms of wildfire smoke, experts generally consider masks a second-line defense. The first priority is trying to minimize any exposure at all—which, for now, means staying indoors with the doors and windows tightly shut, especially for people at highest risk. Paula Olsiewski, an environmental-health researcher at the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security, also recommends running whatever air filters might be available; air conditioners, portable air cleaners, and DIY air filters all help.

    It’s also a good time, experts told me, to be mindful of the differences between filtration and ventilation, or increasing flow to turn over stale air. Both are crucial, sustainable interventions against respiratory viruses. But in the context of wildfires, excellent ventilation could actually increase harm, Jimenez told me, by allowing in excess smoke. For right now, stale indoor air—a classic COVID foe—is a smoke-avoider’s ally. The masks come in for anyone who must go outside in a part of the country where the air quality is bad—say, above an index of 150 or so.

    The move might feel especially counterintuitive for people who have long since stopped masking against COVID—or even ones who still do, simply because the rules don’t mesh. Through the flip-flopping guidance of mask everywhere to mask until you’re vaccinated to actually, mask after you’re vaccinated too to mask only indoors, Americans never hit much of a stable rhythm with the practice. The inertia may be especially powerful on the East Coast, which has largely been spared from the scourge of wildfires that’s constantly plaguing the West. (That puts the U.S. well behind other countries, especially in East Asia, where masking against viruses and pollutants indoors and out has long been commonplace; even in California, N95 and HEPA shortages aren’t anything new.)

    That said, our COVID-centric view on masking was always going to get a wake-up call. Wildfires—and viral outbreaks, for that matter—are expected to become more common going forward, even in regions that haven’t historically experienced them. And for all their weariness with COVID, Americans now have far more awareness of and, in many cases, access to masks than they did just a few years ago. The wildfires aren’t good news, but maybe a mask-friendly response to them can be. Smoke does, from a public-health perspective, have one thing going for it, Olsiewski told me: It is visible and ominous in ways that a microscopic virus is not. “People can see that their air is not clean,” she told me. It’ll take more than ash and haze to break through the divisiveness around masks. But a threat this obvious might at least forge a tiny crack.


    This story is part of the Atlantic Planet series supported by the HHMI Department of Science Education.

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    Katherine J. Wu

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  • Life Is Worse for Older People Now

    Life Is Worse for Older People Now

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    Last December, during a Christmas Eve celebration with my in-laws in California, I observed what I now realize was the future of COVID for older people. As everyone crowded around the bagna cauda, a hot dipping sauce shared like fondue, it was clear that we, as a family, had implicitly agreed that the pandemic was over. Our nonagenarian relatives were not taking any precautions, nor was anyone else taking precautions to protect them. Endive spear in hand, I squeezed myself in between my 94-year-old grandfather-in-law and his spry 99-year-old sister and dug into the dip.

    We all knew that older people bore the brunt of COVID, but the concerns seemed like a relic from earlier in the pandemic. The brutal biology of this disease meant that they disproportionately have fallen sick, been hospitalized, and died. Americans over 65 make up 17 percent of the U.S. population, but they have accounted for three-quarters of all COVID deaths. As the death count among older people began to rise in 2020, “a lot of my patients were really concerned that they were being exposed without anyone really caring about them,” Sharon Brangman, a geriatrician at SUNY Upstate University Hospital, told me.

    But even now, three years into the pandemic, older people are still in a precarious position. While many Americans can tune out COVID and easily fend off an infection when it strikes, older adults continue to face real threats from the illness in the minutiae of their daily life: grocery trips, family gatherings, birthday parties, coffee dates. That is true even with the protective power of several shots and the broader retreat of the virus. “There is substantial risk, even if you’ve gotten all the vaccines,” Bernard Black, a law professor at Northwestern University who studies health policy, told me. More than 300 people still die from COVID each day, and the overwhelming majority of them are older. People ages 65 and up are currently hospitalized at nearly 11 times the rate of adults under 50.

    Compounding this sickness are all the ways that, COVID aside, this pandemic has changed life for older adults. Enduring severe isolation and ongoing caregiver shortages, they have been disproportionately harmed by the past few years. Not all of them have experienced the pandemic in the same way. Americans of retirement age, 65 and older, are a huge population encompassing a range of incomes, health statuses, living situations, and racial backgrounds. Nevertheless, by virtue of their age alone, they live with a new reality: one in which life has become more dangerous—and in many ways worse—than it was before COVID.


    The pandemic was destined to come after older Americans. Their immune systems tend to be weaker, making it harder for them to fight off an infection, and they are more likely to have comorbidities, which further increases their risk of severe illness. The precarity that many of them already faced going into 2020—poverty, social isolation and loneliness, inadequate personal care—left them poorly equipped for the arrival of the novel coronavirus. More than 1 million people lived in nursing homes, many of which were densely packed and short on staff when COVID tore through them.

    A major reason older people are still at risk is that vaccines can’t entirely compensate for their immune systems. A study recently published in the journal Vaccines showed that for vaccinated adults ages 60 and over, the risk of dying from COVID versus other natural causes jumped from 11 percent to 34 percent within a year of completing their primary shot series. A booster dose brings the risk back down, but other research shows that it wears off too. A booster is a basic precaution, but “not one that everyone is taking,” Black, a co-author of the study, told me. Booster uptake among older Americans for the reengineered “bivalent” shots is the highest of all age groups, but still, nearly 60 percent have not gotten one.

    For every COVID death, many more older people develop serious illness. Risk increases with age, and people older than 70 “have a substantially higher rate of hospitalizations” than those ages 60 to 69, Caitlin Rivers, an epidemiologist at Johns Hopkins University, told me. Unlike younger people, most of whom fully recover from a bout with COVID, a return to baseline health is less guaranteed for older adults. In one study, 32 percent of adults over 65 were diagnosed with symptoms that lasted well beyond their COVID infection. Persistent coughs, aches, and joint pain can linger long after serious illness, together with indirect impacts such as loss of muscle strength and flexibility, which can affect older people’s ability to be independent, Rivers said. Older COVID survivors may also have a higher risk of cognitive decline. In some cases, these ailments could be part of long COVID, which may be more prevalent in older people.

    Certainly, some older adults are able to make a full recovery. Brangman said she has “old and frail” geriatric patients who bounced back after flu-like symptoms, and younger ones who still experience weakness and fatigue. Still, these are not promising odds. The antiviral Paxlovid was supposed to help blunt the wave of old people falling sick and ending up in the hospital—and it can reduce severe disease by 50 to 90 percent. But unfortunately, it is not widely used; as of July, just a third of Americans 80 or older took Paxlovid.

    The reality is that as long as the virus continues to be prevalent, older Americans will face these potential outcomes every time they leave their home. That doesn’t mean they will barricade themselves indoors, or that they even should. Still, “every decision that we make now is weighing that balance between risk and socialization,” Brangman said.


    Long before the pandemic, the threat of illness was already very real for older people.  Where America has landed is hardly a new way of life but rather one that is simply more onerous. “One way to think about it is that this is a new risk that’s out there” alongside other natural causes of death, such as diabetes and heart failure, Black said. But it’s a risk older Americans can’t ignore, especially as the country has dropped all COVID precautions. Since Christmas Eve, I have felt uneasy about how readily I normalized putting so little effort into protecting my nonagenarian loved ones, despite knowing what might happen if they got sick. For older people, who must contend with the peril of attending similar gatherings, “there’s sort of no good choice,” Black said. “The world has changed.”

    But this new post-pandemic reality also includes insidious effects on older people that aren’t directly related to COVID itself. Those who put off nonemergency visits to the doctor earlier in the pandemic, for example, risked worsening their existing health conditions. The first year of the pandemic plunged nearly everyone into isolation, but being alone created problems for older adults that still persist. Before the pandemic, the association between loneliness and higher mortality rates, increased cardiovascular risks, and dementia among older adults was already well established. Increased isolation during COVID amplified this association.

    The consequences of isolation were especially profound for older adults with physical limitations, Naoko Muramatsu, a community-health professor at the University of Illinois at Chicago, told me. When caregivers or family members were unable to visit, people who required assistance for even the smallest tasks, such as fetching the mail and getting dressed, had no options. “If you don’t walk around and if you don’t do anything, we can expect that cognitive function will decline,” Muramatsu said; she has observed this firsthand in her research. One Chinese American woman, interviewed in a survey of older adults living alone with cognitive impairment during the pandemic, described the debilitating effect of sitting at home all day.“I am so useless now,” she told the interviewer. “I am confused so often. I forget things.”

    Even older adults who have weathered the direct and indirect effects of the pandemic still face other challenges that COVID has exacerbated. Many have long relied on personal caregivers or the staff at nursing facilities. These workers, already scarce before the pandemic, are even more so now because many quit or were affected by COVID themselves. “Long-term care has been in a crisis situation for a long time, but it’s even worse now,” Muramatsu said, noting that many home care workers are older adults themselves. Nursing homes nationwide now have nearly 200,000 fewer employees compared with March 2020, which is especially concerning as the proportion of Americans over age 65 explodes.

    Older people won’t have one single approach to contending with this sad reality. “Everybody is trying to figure out what is the best way to function, to try to have some level of everyday life and activity, but also keep your risk of getting sick as low as possible,” Brangman said. Some of her patients are still opting to be cautious, while others consider this moment their “only chance to see grandchildren or concerts or go to family gatherings.” Either way, older Americans will have to wrestle with these decisions without so many of their peers who have died from COVID.

    Again, many of these people did not have it great before the pandemic, even if the rest of the country wasn’t paying attention. “We often don’t provide the basic social support that older people need,” Kenneth Covinsky, a clinician-researcher at the UCSF Division of Geriatrics, said. Rather, ageism, the willful ignorance or indifference to the needs of older people, is baked into American life. It is perhaps the main reason older adults were so badly affected by the pandemic in the first place, as illustrated by the delayed introduction of safety precautions in nursing homes and the blithe acceptance of COVID deaths among older adults. If Americans couldn’t bring themselves to care at any point over the past three years, will they ever?

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    Yasmin Tayag

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  • Seniors With Few Years Left Often Advised to Get Colonoscopy

    Seniors With Few Years Left Often Advised to Get Colonoscopy

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    March 21, 2023 – Most of the time, when a polyp is found during an older adult’s colonoscopy, it is unlikely that a concerning polyp or colon cancer will be found during a future surveillance scan. Yet most patients are advised to repeat the colonoscopy even if they aren’t expected to live very long, a new study has found. 

    “Given the lack of clear guidance about when to stop colonoscopy in older patients, I am not surprised that physicians recommend surveillance even in patients with low life expectancy,” said Ziad Gellad, MD, MPH, with Duke University Medical Center in Durham, NC, who was not involved in the research.

    “These are nuanced decisions that require shared decision making. It’s not easy to tell patients that they are too old to get preventive care, especially patients in whom your only interaction is the procedure itself,” Gellad said. 

    Current guidelines recommend doctors and patients make decisions about repeat colonoscopy in older adults with prior polyps, weighing the potential benefits (identifying and removing meaningful polyps to prevent cancer) against the burdens and potential harms, such as bleeding.

    While most colon polyps are not harmful, a subset of polyps, if allowed to grow, have the potential to develop into cancer, a transformation that can take 10 to 15 years. This long timeline highlights the importance of considering life expectancy in deciding which patients should have a repeat colonoscopy.

    The new study involved nearly 10,000 adults age 65 and older undergoing surveillance colonoscopy due to a prior polyp. Fewer than 1 in 10 of these individuals were found to have advanced polyps or colorectal cancer during a repeat colonoscopy. 

    Yet the vast majority (87%) of individuals whose doctor gave a recommendation to stop or continue colonoscopy were advised to return for another procedure at some point – even when they had no significant colonoscopy findings or limited life expectancy, including less than 5 years. 

    In some cases, the recommended time to repeat colonoscopy was greater than the individual’s life expectancy.

    Complications during colonoscopies happen to about 26 in every 1,000 people — nearly 10 times greater than the potential benefits as seen in their study in terms of identifying cancer.

    These findings “may help refine decision-making” about the potential benefits and harms of pursuing or stopping surveillance colonoscopy in older adults with a history of polyps, write the investigators, led by Audrey Calderwood, MD, with Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center in Lebanon, NH. 

    Based on their findings, they think older adults expected to live fewer than 5 more years should skip surveillance colonoscopy.  The same goes for individuals whose life expectancy is between 5 and less than 10 years and they only have “low risk” polyps.

    For the healthy senior with a life expectancy of 10 or more years and recent “advanced” polyps, they suggest the doctor provide a recommendation for future surveillance colonoscopy with a caveat that the ultimate decision is dependent on health and priorities at the time the colonoscopy is due.

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  • Norovirus Is Almost Impossible to Stop

    Norovirus Is Almost Impossible to Stop

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    In one very specific and mostly benign way, it’s starting to feel a lot like the spring of 2020: Disinfection is back.

    “Bleach is my friend right now,” says Annette Cameron, a pediatrician at Yale School of Medicine, who spent the first half of this week spraying and sloshing the potent chemical all over her home. It’s one of the few tools she has to combat norovirus, the nasty gut pathogen that her 15-year-old son was recently shedding in gobs.

    Right now, hordes of people in the Northern Hemisphere are in a similarly crummy situation. In recent weeks, norovirus has seeded outbreaks in several countries, including the United Kingdom, Canada, and the United States. Last week, the U.K. Health Security Agency announced that laboratory reports of the virus had risen to levels 66 percent higher than what’s typical this time of year. Especially hard-hit are Brits 65 and older, who are falling ill at rates that “haven’t been seen in over a decade.”

    Americans could be heading into a rough stretch themselves, Caitlin Rivers, an infectious-disease epidemiologist at Johns Hopkins University, told me, given how closely the U.S.’s epidemiological patterns tend to follow those of the U.K. “It does seem like there’s a burst of activity right now,” says Nihal Altan-Bonnet, a norovirus researcher at the National Institutes of Health. At her own practice, Cameron has been seeing the number of vomiting and diarrhea cases among her patients steadily tick up. (Other pathogens can cause gastrointestinal symptoms as well, but norovirus is the most common cause of foodborne illness in the United States.)

    To be clear, this is more a nauseating nuisance than a public-health crisis. In most people, norovirus triggers, at most, a few miserable days of GI distress that can include vomiting, diarrhea, and fevers, then resolves on its own; the keys are to stay hydrated and avoid spreading it to anyone vulnerable—little kids, older adults, the immunocompromised. The U.S. logs fewer than 1,000 annual deaths out of millions of documented cases. In other high-income countries, too, severe outcomes are very rare, though the virus is far more deadly in parts of the world with limited access to sanitation and potable water.

    Still, fighting norovirus isn’t easy, as plenty of parents can attest. The pathogen, which prompts the body to expel infectious material from both ends of the digestive tract, is seriously gross and frustratingly hardy. Even the old COVID standby, a spritz of hand sanitizer, doesn’t work against it—the virus is encased in a tough protein shell that makes it insensitive to alcohol. Some have estimated that ingesting as few as 18 infectious units of virus can be enough to sicken someone, “and normally, what’s getting shed is in the billions,” says Megan Baldridge, a virologist and immunologist at Washington University in St. Louis. At an extreme, a single gram of feces—roughly the heft of a jelly bean—could contain as many as 5.5 billion infectious doses, enough to send the entire population of Eurasia sprinting for the toilet.

    Unlike flu and RSV, two other pathogens that have bounced back to prominence in recent months, norovirus mainly targets the gut, and spreads especially well when people swallow viral particles that have been released in someone else’s vomit or stool. (Despite its “stomach flu” nickname, norovirus is not a flu virus.) But direct contact with those substances, or the food or water they contaminate, may not even be necessary: Sometimes people vomit with such force that the virus gets aerosolized; toilets, especially lidless ones, can send out plumes of infection like an Air Wick from hell. And Altan-Bonnet’s team has found that saliva may be an unappreciated reservoir for norovirus, at least in laboratory animals. If the spittle finding holds for humans, then talking, singing, and laughing in close proximity could be risky too.

    Once emitted into the environment, norovirus particles can persist on surfaces for days—making frequent hand-washing and surface disinfection key measures to prevent spread, says Ibukun Kalu, a pediatric infectious-disease specialist at Duke University. Handshakes and shared meals tend to get dicey during outbreaks, along with frequently touched items such as utensils, door handles, and phones. One 2012 study pointed to a woven plastic grocery bag as the source of a small outbreak among a group of teenage soccer players; the bag had just been sitting in a bathroom used by one of the girls when she fell sick the night before.

    Once a norovirus transmission chain begins, it can be very difficult to break. The virus can spread before symptoms start, and then for more than a week after they resolve. To make matters worse, immunity to the virus tends to be short-lived, lasting just a few months even against a genetically identical strain, Baldridge told me.

    Day cares, cruise ships, schools, restaurants, military training camps, prisons, and long-term-care facilities can be common venues for norovirus spread. “I did research with the Navy, and it just goes through like wildfire,” often sickening more than half the people on tightly packed ships, says Robert Frenck, the director of the Vaccine Research Center at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. Households, too, are highly susceptible to spread: Once the virus arrives, the entire family is almost sure to be infected. Baldridge, who has two young children, told me that her household has weathered at least four bouts of norovirus in the past several years.

    (A pause for some irony: In spite of norovirus’s infectiousness, scientists did not succeed in culturing it in labs until just a few years ago, after nearly half a century of research. When researchers design challenge trials to, say, test new vaccines, they still need to dose volunteers with norovirus that’s been extracted from patient stool, a gnarly practice that’s been around for more than 50 years.)

    Norovirus spread doesn’t have to be a foregone conclusion. Some people do get lucky: Roughly 20 percent of European populations, for instance, are genetically resistant to common norovirus strains. “So you can hope,” Frenck told me. For the rest of us, it comes down to hygiene. Altan-Bonnet recommends diligent hand-washing, plus masking to ward off droplet-borne virus. Sick people should isolate themselves if they can. “And keep your saliva to yourself,” she told me.

    Rivers and Cameron have both managed to halt the virus in their homes in the past; Cameron may have pulled it off again this week. The family fastidiously scrubbed their hands with hot water and soap, donned disposable gloves when touching shared surfaces, and took advantage of the virus’s susceptibility to harsh chemicals and heat. When her son threw up on the floor, Cameron sprayed it down with bleach; when he vomited on his quilt, she blasted it twice in the washing machine on the sanitizing setting, then put it through the dryer at a super high temp. Now a couple of days out from the end of their son’s sickness, Cameron and her husband appear to have escaped unscathed.

    Norovirus isn’t new, and this won’t be the last time it hits. In a lot of ways, “this is back to basics,” says Samina Bhumbra, the medical director of infection prevention at Riley Children’s Hospital. After three years of COVID, the world has gotten used to thinking about infections in terms of airways. “We need to recalibrate,” Bhumbra told me, “and remember that other things exist.”

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    Katherine J. Wu

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  • The Jewish Federation of Southern New Jersey Partners With Envoy America to Launch a Transportation and Companionship Service for Older Adults

    The Jewish Federation of Southern New Jersey Partners With Envoy America to Launch a Transportation and Companionship Service for Older Adults

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    Partnerships such as this one exemplifies the ways non-profit organizations and older adults care providers are working together to address isolation and the social determinants of health.

    Press Release


    Jan 16, 2023

    Envoy America, a technology-enabled platform for transportation and companionship services for older ad0ults, announced a new partnership with the Jewish Federation of Southern New Jersey (JFSNJ), a vibrant, non-profit organization. This collaboration will help keep older Jewish adults engaged in the community via Envoy America’s accompanied transportation service with social, recreational, and cultural programming infused with Jewish heritage and values.

    “Social isolation remains a major risk factor for older adults’ health, and transportation difficulties are often a top contributor to why they aren’t connected or engaged with the people, places, and things that provide meaning in their life,” said Ronit Boyd, Chief Impact & Innovation Officer, JFSNJ. “Older adults want autonomy, to come and go and enjoy life on their own terms. We are proud and excited to partner with Envoy America to provide this vital service to our community.”

    Founded in 2015 in Scottsdale, Arizona, Envoy America has invented a new category of care through leveraging human compassion and technology. Since its inception, the company focused on turning an untapped supply of compassionate talent, 45- to 60-year-old “younger” older adults and stay-at-home parents, into a new caregiver that the company calls Companion Drivers.

    “Our Companion Drivers across the country have been addressing the Social Determinants of Health, including isolation, disengagement and loneliness since 2015, for older adults who stand to benefit from companionship, assistance and transportation services,” said K. C. Kanaan, co-founder and Chief Executive Officer, Envoy America. “By providing access to social support outside and inside the home, those using the Envoy America service are less likely to need costly medical intervention and more able to live independent, healthy and more socially active lives.”

    According to Boyd, JFSNJ and Envoy America’s mission, values, and culture of putting older adults first aligned well. “Partnering to serve older Jewish adults in the tri-county area our Federation serves addressed many concerns seniors and their loved ones have about traditional transportation services, giving them more than just a curb-to-curb drop off but a true individualized service without boundaries.”

    Envoy America Companion Drivers are compassionate individuals who are trained to understand the varying needs and challenges older adults face. All Companion Drivers must pass Envoy America’s proprietary DCCP™ Skills Training (Driving Companionship Certification Program) which includes modules on communication etiquettes, defensive driving skills, working with walkers and transfer wheelchairs and serving clients with memory challenges.

    The Jewish Federation Senior Rides Program is open to Jewish individuals age 60 or older who reside in the Camden, Burlington, and Gloucester Counties, New Jersey. For more specifics qualification and joining the program, please call 856-751-9500 x1118 or email jfedrides@jfedsnj.org.

    About the Jewish Federation of Southern New Jersey

    The Jewish Federation of Southern New Jersey (JFSNJ) began in 1922 when a group of 29 people with vision and compassion for others created an organization which would serve the Jews of Camden. From humble beginnings focusing on the delivery of food, clothing, and shelter, we have grown into a communal organization dedicated to promoting and enhancing Jewish life throughout Southern NJ. The Jewish Federation encompasses facilities that serve approximately 56,700 people in the Jewish community of Camden, Burlington, and Gloucester Counties.

    Locally, the Jewish Federation and our family of agencies are serving the needs of the Jewish population, including early childhood, young adults, special needs, and seniors. The Jewish Federation family of agencies enhances the lives of thousands of people through counseling; food pantries; low- and moderate-income housing; social, cultural, and recreational programs; Jewish education; and Israel advocacy.

    The Jewish Federation’s global mission is accomplished through a network of overseas partners assisting Jews in more than 90 countries worldwide.

    About Envoy America

    Envoy America is a women-led operation that was founded in 2015 in Scottsdale, Arizona. Envoy America and its team of Companion Drivers offer older adults and families companionship and transportation services to help them stay socially active, healthy and independent.

    Across the U.S., health plans, accountable care and healthcare organizations, senior living communities, faith-based organizations and families look to Envoy to provide care to their members and residents. The company tailors its service to the goals of each member and resident, providing companionship, assistance and transportation services to activities the members and residents choose. This includes medical appointments, grocery shopping, religious services, sporting events, theater, cultural events, family get-togethers, walking their pet and help with technology — whatever they desire. For more information, visit www.envoyamerica.com.

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    Source: Envoy America

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