The Italian Mafia and other family enterprises are considering the fine work of pubmed.org ristori + BCG to win the hearts minds and souls of people who believe that you can be a competent crook with character (good), something that has eluded pharmaceutical corporations. A corporation is by definition a person without a soul. Ditto for insurance companies. People are fungible.
SAN
ANTONIO — There is little that Dr. Lindsay Irvin has not done for the
children’s vaccines in her office refrigerator: She remortgaged her home
to afford their rising prices. She packed them in ice chests and moved
them when her office flooded this year. She pays a company to monitor
the fridge in case the temperature rises.
“The
security company can call me any time of the day or night so I can go
save my vaccines,” said Dr. Irvin, a pediatrician. Those in the
refrigerator recently cost $70,000, she said — “more than I paid for
four years of medical school.”
Vaccination
prices have gone from single digits to sometimes triple digits in the
last two decades, creating dilemmas for doctors and their patients as
well as straining public health budgets. Here in San Antonio and
elsewhere, some doctors have stopped offering immunizations because they
say they cannot afford to buy these potentially lifesaving preventive
treatments that insurers often reimburse poorly, sometimes even at a
loss.
Childhood immunizations are so vital to public health that the Affordable Care Act mandates their coverage
at no out-of-pocket cost and they are generally required for school
entry. Once a loss leader for manufacturers, because they are often more
expensive to produce than conventional drugs, vaccines now can be very
profitable.
Old
vaccines have been reformulated with higher costs. New ones have
entered the market at once-unthinkable prices. Together, since 1986,
they have pushed up the average cost to fully vaccinate a child with
private insurance to the age of 18 to $2,192 from $100, according to
data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Even with deep
discounts, the costs for the federal government, which buys half of all
vaccines for the nation’s children, have increased 15-fold during that
period. The most expensive shot for young children in Dr. Irvin’s
refrigerator is Prevnar 13, which prevents diseases caused by
pneumococcal bacteria, from ear infections to pneumonia.
Like
many vaccines, Prevnar requires multiple jabs. Each shot is priced at
$136, and every child in the United States is required to get four doses
before entering school. Pfizer, the sole manufacturer, had revenues of nearly $4 billion from its Prevnar
vaccine line last year, about double what it made from high-profile
drugs like Lipitor and Viagra, which now face generic competitors.
Michael
Haydock, an analyst at the London-based consulting firm Datamonitor
Healthcare, said no vaccine had ever been such a big seller. “It’s
expensive in part because it’s a very effective vaccine,” he said. “And
also because they’re exploiting their monopoly.”
That
does not sit well with many doctors. Even though the vaccine has not
changed, the price of the current version, Prevnar 13 (it protects
against 13 strains), has gone up an average of 6 percent each year since
it was approved by the Food and Drug Administration in 2010.
“You
have to make back your investment and pay your shareholders, but at
what point do you say, ‘Look, you’ve had your steak, gravy and potatoes
and this is enough?’ ” said Dr. Steven Black, a vaccine expert at
Cincinnati Children’s Hospital who served on the government committee
that recommended all children get Prevnar 7, an earlier version of the
vaccine.
To
deal with the rising prices, some doctors, who say they lose money on
every vaccination, reserve their shots for longstanding patients. A
survey of family-practice doctors, who along with pediatricians are
among the lowest-earning physicians, found that about one-third were
considering giving up immunizations because of the expense. Another survey found that 40 percent do not offer at least some required childhood immunizations.
That
is why Breanna Farris, a San Antonio mother, had to call 10
pediatricians in April before she found Dr. Irvin to vaccinate her son,
Traven, who is entering kindergarten this fall. The family’s usual
doctors do not offer vaccinations, and referred Ms. Farris to local
pharmacies (which do not vaccinate children) or the city health clinic
(which would not take Traven’s insurance).
“I
was like, ‘Where should I go?’ ” Ms. Farris said. “They say vaccines
are covered, but that isn’t really true if doctors aren’t giving them.”
Business Decisions
To
many pediatricians, not providing vaccines is as unthinkable as a baker
not selling bread. Before they became widely available in the mid-20th
century, tens of thousands of American children died each year from
diseases like polio, whooping cough and diphtheria. “It’s up there with
finding fire and the invention of the wheel,” said Dr. Irvin, 51, of
vaccines.
Vaccines work
by stimulating the body to develop immunity to a particular disease.
The process involves injecting a molecule under the skin that mimics the
virus or bacteria to prime the immune system to attack the real thing
when it arrives. Vaccines can contain a fragment of the pathogen or a
weakened version that can teach the immune system to recognize a germ,
without itself causing the disease.
The
earliest vaccines were not patented, in part because the law at the
time held that natural products could not be so protected. And vaccines like polio
were developed through a large infusion of government and foundation
funds, not by a company. Even when commercialized by the 1960s, vaccines
were made by small specialty manufacturers, instead of big
pharmaceutical firms, since producing them involved particular
challenges: using live organisms, some of them dangerous. Indeed, huge
liability payouts and aggressive mergers had, by the 1990s, meant that
more than half of the country’s vaccine makers had closed down. With low
retail prices, no one regarded vaccine making as a lucrative business.
When
he started his pediatric practice in 1982 in San Antonio, Dr. Michael
Ozer remembers, he charged $22 for a 2-month well-child checkup, with $8
added on for the polio vaccine and another $8 for the vaccine against
diphtheria, pertussis and tetanus. “And I’m sure we were making money on
it,” he said.
But
one by one, various barriers eroded: Drug manufacturers discovered new
ways to protect their products, like patenting the manufacturing
process. The number of vaccine patent applications rose tenfold in the
1990s to more than 10,000. In 1988, the federal government set up the Vaccine Injury Compensation Program, effectively shielding manufacturers and doctors.
And
the acceptable list price for drugs was rising. Vaccines, which
families often used to pay for out of pocket, are now typically covered
by insurance, and patients often do not notice the prices.
There
are, of course, some good reasons vaccines like Prevnar are more
expensive than previous offerings. Vaccine trials, which once included
thousands of volunteers, must now include tens, if not hundreds of
thousands of people, as fears about side effects like autism have grown,
even though many studies have concluded that such worries are unfounded. Some of the newer vaccines are complicated to manufacture.
Prevnar,
for example, involves attaching a piece of a dangerous bacterium’s
outer layer to a protein that renders it better able to provoke a
protective immune reaction in babies. And because it covers 13 strains
of the disease, it is in some ways 13 vaccines in one.
Pfizer
maintains that Prevnar’s prices are justified because of its investment
in “one of the most complex biologic products ever developed and
manufactured,” said Sally Beatty, a company spokeswoman. She noted that
it takes five years and costs $600 million to build a vaccine
manufacturing site, and that one batch of Prevnar 13 takes two years to
create, with more than 500 quality control tests. Development of the
first Prevnar vaccine took 14 years, Ms. Beatty said, from the
initiation of research to licensing. (That work occurred before Pfizer
acquired the Prevnar brand in 2009 when it bought Wyeth Laboratories, which had in turn acquired it from smaller companies.)
“It’s
a risky business developing vaccines, so you can explain — if not
necessarily justify — the higher costs of vaccination,” said Dr. Alan
Hinman, a former head of the immunization division of the C.D.C. and now
a senior scientist at the Task Force for Global Health in Georgia. “A
more difficult question is, after the research and development costs are
recouped, why don’t prices come down?”
For
a 2-month well-child checkup in 2014, Dr. Ozer charges $115. And the
vaccine charges have grown to $725, for which insurers like Blue
Cross/Blue Shield reimburse $613.79.
Cost vs. Benefit
For
most prescription medicines, the crucial hurdle to marketing is to win
Food and Drug Administration approval. But for vaccines, the prize is
the imprimatur of the federal Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices.
Once a shot is on the committee’s schedule as mandatory, everychild has
to get it before entering school and insurers have to cover it, at
least nominally. (Many states require home-schooled children to be
vaccinated as well.) “We have to give it to every kid, so it’s a golden
ticket,” Dr. Irvin said.
That
requirement is a powerful incentive: Last year, Ms. Farris’s older
child, Lenna, missed the first week of school as Ms. Farris, then new to
Texas, searched for a provider willing to vaccinate the girl.
Desperate, Ms. Farris took her daughter to a public health clinic and
lied, saying she had no insurance. She found Dr. Irvin to immunize her
son only this year.
The
value of that “school mandate” is also apparent in the pricing. When
Singapore’s national vaccine advisory group evaluated Prevnar 7 for
mandated use, its price was about $80, said Karen Tyo, a researcher from
Brandeis University, who was advising the government. After the
government included it in the required national schedule, “the price
jumped immediately” to about $120, she said. “Nothing had changed,” she
noted. “It didn’t make any sense.”
To
evaluate new vaccines for inclusion on mandated lists, national vaccine
panels assess a vaccine’s cost benefit ratio. (F.D.A. approval requires
that companies show vaccines are “safe and effective.” Cost is not
considered.) Will the cost of buying and administering the vaccine
result in a substantial payback for patients and society at large? That
is a complicated, often nebulous, calculation.
Even
before the advent of Prevnar, children under 5 rarely died of
pneumococcal illness — about 200 in the United States annually,
according to the C.D.C. So, in urging countries to adopt Prevnar 13,
Pfizer produced extensive studies emphasizing the vaccine’s broad
indirect benefits, such as reductions in a parent’s lost work time as
well as the fact that the grandparent of an immunized baby is less
likely to contract the disease. The company also factored in the ear
infections Prevnar might prevent in children, even though most of those
could be treated with antibiotics.
For
example, one Pfizer study concluded that in the United States in 2009,
Prevnar prevented 2.3 million cases of pneumococcal disease, 5,056
deaths of all ages and saved $965 million in direct costs and $2.7
billion in societal costs.
But
when Prevnar 7 was first evaluated in 2000 for universal vaccination of
children in the United States, the vaccine advisory committee concluded
it was not likely to be cost effective, said Dr. Black, who was on the
panel. In a study around that time, Dr. Black and colleagues concluded
that the vaccine would result in cost saving for society only if each
dose was priced at $46. It entered the market, though, at $58 a shot.
The
committee decided to approve it anyway because it would save a few
families from the tragedy of an infant’s death; the vaccine later proved
more effective than the study had anticipated.
Most other developed countries demand better cost-effectiveness numbers
before approval and can use that to negotiate for discounts, said
Anthony Newall, a health economist at the University of New South Wales
in Australia.
The
Swiss Agency for Therapeutic Products pays $101, a price that has not
changed over time. In Britain, the small private health care market
sells prefilled syringes of Prevnar 13 for an average of $82 at
pharmacies; the National Health Service pays even less, experts say.
Prefilled syringes cost an average of $136 in the United States, and
even the C.D.C. — which buys vaccines for the Medicaid program at a
discount — pays $112.84.
Other
countries have also diverged from the United States in how they deploy
Prevnar 13, generally giving only three shots instead of four. Studies
have shown that the protection is almost as good, particularly against
the serious forms of the disease. “There’s virtually no benefit,” Dr.
Black said. “We’re basically paying an extra $100-plus per child for
nothing.”
The Vaccine Market
Every
week or two, Dr. Irvin sits down at her computer to buy vaccines. With
more than 3,000 patients in her practice, she estimates that it would
cost her $70,860 a month to be fully stocked with vaccines for any
patient who walked in the door. Instead, she buys sparingly for
scheduled appointments and looks for manufacturers’ bargains.
Online,
there are back-to-school sales, closeout sales on last year’s models
and discounts for early booking. Dr. Irvin buys vaccines for polio,
whooping cough, tetanus and hemophilus meningitis from Sanofi-Pasteur on
a site called the Vaccine Shoppe. “I feel like I’m going to a boutique,” she commented while completing a recent purchase.
Because
Dr. Irvin belongs to a purchasing cooperative of Texas pediatricians,
the prices are often discounted 5 to 10 percent from the list price. But
rates often fluctuate: On the Merck website, she noticed that the price
of the vaccine against human papillomavirus had gone up from the
previous week. She decided to buy vials rather than prefilled syringes
because she would save about $1.50 a dose on a price of $132.46 a shot.
“That’s make or break it,” she noted.
Likewise
she buys vials, rather than syringes, for the measles, mumps, rubella
vaccine to lower the cost to $51.20 a dose. In 2002, the same vaccine
was $27.70 for private doctors. Because some companies, like Pfizer,
require that each physician sign a legal agreement not to disclose the
price he or she paid, there is little informed shopping. “I was kind of
aghast, I didn’t think it could be legal, but it is,” said Dr. Gary L.
Freed, a pediatrician at the University of Michigan School of Public
Health who has studied vaccine purchases. “And it’s certainly a very
inefficient market since it means physicians don’t have information to
bargain.”
The
result is much like that in other aspects of American medicine: Huge
price variations for the same item or service. Large group practices
that have purchasing clout with drug makers and insurers may make a
profit from providing vaccines, while solo practices, like Dr. Irvin’s,
can incur losses. Some doctors pay three times as much as others in the
same city, Dr. Freed’s studies have found. One large practice was
yielding $39 per dose of Prevnar, while 11 percent of practices were
losing money on it.
Private
insurers pay doctors a median of $145 for Prevnar, according to data
compiled by Athena Health. Dr. Jeffrey J. Cain, the board chairman of
the American Academy of Family Physicians, noted that reimbursement from
insurers runs between 40 and 100 percent of the vaccine’s purchase
cost, which often does not allow for overhead such as insurance, storage
and the computer record-keeping systems required by the federal
government.
Dr. Irvin says she loses money every time she gives a shot.see also fasutmanlab.org and pubmed.org faustman dl
No comments:
Post a Comment