For the past two years, I’ve co-facilitated meetings in five counties and helped lead numerous projects across California to help these organizations cope with the state’s demands. In nearly every meeting, I observe the same pattern: Community-based organizations are financing California’s Medicaid transformation out of their own organizational capacity.
This dynamic has equity implications that deserve attention.
Imagine knowing exactly what you want to say, but the words don’t make it from your brain to your lips. You know how you want to move, but your body fails to comply.
This is the reality of living with something called full-body apraxia, a term I hadn’t heard until recently, despite my 30 years of being diagnosed with this and or that disorder. Many treatment providers fail to recognize how these motor and sensory differences might manifest.
Shari Horne spends much of her day caring for her husband Hal in their sunny apartment in Orange County’s Laguna Woods, where she was once mayor.
I’m sharing the Hornes’ story in my inaugural column for the California Health Report. Over the next year, I’ll write about health equity and aging, drawing on my personal experiences, as well as those of the people I interview.
For many older adults, especially those with low incomes, mobility is not a luxury. It is the foundation of independence, emotional well-being and dignity. Yet access to basic mobility support varies widely across the state. That gap has serious consequences.
As a physical therapist working in post-acute and long-term care, I see this divide every day.
As a licensed vocational nurse who has worked in emergency rooms and mental health settings throughout Southern California, I’ve seen the impact of Substance Use Disorder.
While California has taken major strides in addressing the opioid epidemic and decreasing the risk of unnecessary opioid prescriptions for patients, a major gap exists for some of the most vulnerable populations.
Veterans have long stood at the forefront of national service — a dedication that deserves not only words of gratitude but also a firm commitment to their well-being. Yet, for far too many veterans in California, military service has been followed by the struggle of living without a home due to skyrocketing rent fees, as well as untreated health conditions and health care barriers.
Most parents are not “anti-science” or “anti -vaccine” by default. They are trying to make the best choices in a world that feels more complicated and less trustworthy than ever before.
The solution isn’t more statistics or louder voices. The solution is trust.
State leaders estimate that the federal Medicaid cuts will force 3.4 million Californians out of our version of the program, known as Medi-Cal. But we do not have to sit idly by and wait for the fallout. In fact, states and communities still hold real power to blunt the worst outcomes and protect coverage for millions.
California can implement the law in the least harmful way: creating broad exemptions, simplifying paperwork and deploying technology to reduce administrative friction.
California prides itself on being a state of second chances, a place where people can rebuild their lives with dignity.
But are we truly living up to those values if we continue to leave incarcerated individuals behind? Nowhere is this more clear than with how we treat Californians with alcohol use disorder, one of the most underdiagnosed, underreported, undertreated and deadliest behavioral health conditions.
While we’ve heard a lot about how new changes to federal program will hurt Medicaid, there’s another big part of the health care system that’s also at risk: Covered California, our state’s health insurance marketplace.
In California, nearly 2 million people depend on Covered California for health care.