![]() Gladys Lester, 51, of Ramsey, N.J., gets her weekly chemotherapy treatment at Hackensack University Medical Center in Hackensack, N.J. Lester was told that she's hit her health plan's $1 million lifetime maximum. After living 19 years with cancer, Lester calls the news a "death sentence."
Beth Balbierz / The (Bergen County, N.J.) Record
RANCHO RESORT MAINTANANCE POSITION Dental Southern Arizona Endodontics Dental Assistant Health Care Sierra Tucson Eating Disorders Program Coordinator General A1 Communications Cable Techs NationCancer patients find that insurance has limitsLifesaving treatments cost more than plans will pay
McClatchy Newspapers
Tucson, Arizona | Published: 07.20.2008
HACKENSACK, N.J. — In 19 years with breast cancer, Gladys Lester has had a mastectomy, breast reconstruction, and a stem-cell transplant. She's had operations to remove cancer that spread to her liver, lungs and ovaries, and chemotherapy that left her bald five separate times.
But only in March, when she was told she'd used up her health coverage, did she feel she'd been handed a "death sentence."
She arrived at the hospital for chemotherapy that day and was told she'd hit her health plan's $1 million lifetime maximum.
"All these years, I've treated my cancer as a chronic disease," and not a terminal one, says Lester, 51, of Ramsey, N.J. "I live my life as best I can. I walk every day. I play with my kids."
She's not the only one whose life has hinged on a line of fine print in a health plan.
In Fort Lee, N.J., Australia Montoya, 42, defied doctors' expectations after being diagnosed with advanced colon cancer 20 months ago. She underwent surgery, 25 rounds of chemotherapy and a second major operation. Now back at her normal weight, she says she feels good.
Except for one thing: She has no more medical coverage for her cancer. She exhausted her plan's $150,000-per-illness limit months ago.
Her husband, Jose Montoya, spelled out the consequences when he appealed in writing to her health plan: "Failure to provide continued cancer treatment for my wife's condition will result in DEATH."
The appeal was denied.
Cancer patients like Lester and Montoya are inspiring examples of medical progress. They've survived tough treatments against long odds. Lester has lived long enough to see her son, 7 months old when she was diagnosed, grow up and go to college.
Yet their cases also show the high costs of such progress — and how those costs can exhaust insurance coverage.
When charges for new cancer drugs and the latest in high-tech imaging are toted up — year after year for long-term patients — a million dollars doesn't last long. Patients with advanced breast cancer can ring up $160,000 annually just for chemotherapy. One of Montoya's hospital stays was billed at more than $200,000.
Meanwhile, employers who want to control insurance costs limit — or cap — coverage.
When these two trends converge, the unthinkable happens. Who'd anticipate running up more than a million dollars in medical bills? Who'd expect to run out of insurance?
"The whole point of insurance is to protect people against catastrophic loss," says the American Cancer Society's Stephen Finan. "To cut them off at $1 million is to throw them into medical hell or bankruptcy."
A recent study found that the number of Americans with inadequate insurance coverage had risen dramatically — to 25 million people in 2007, a jump of 60 percent in four years.
On the other hand, helping people like Lester and Montoya will take more than raising the caps, says Robert Zirkelbach, a spokesman for America's Health Insurance Plans, an insurance industry group.
"Why are some of these treatments so expensive? What can be done to control the increasing cost of care?" he says.
"Maxing out" is still rare, but "it will become more common," says Dr. Andrew Pecora, chairman and director of Hackensack University Medical Center's cancer center. "Wonderful new drugs" that prolong life are great news for the patient, he says. But their price tag, for society, "represents a major problem."
He adds: "None of us ever wants to go into a patient's room and say, 'Your recent scan shows the tumor has completely faded away, but the chemo I've been giving you can't be continued because you've reached your maximum.' "
Caps come in many forms: lifetime caps, annual caps, prescription caps, caps per illness. Most people don't realize their policies are limited until they find out the hard way.
"Most medical plans impose a maximum annual or lifetime dollar limit," according to the Employee Benefits Research Institute. Fifty-five percent of covered workers have a lifetime cap, says the institute's Paul Fronstin.
While a third of workers have lifetime maximums set at $2 million or higher, 22 percent have caps between $1 million and $2 million. The caps are even lower for 1 percent of workers.
Gladys Lester's lifetime maximum was $1.25 million, though her "explanation of benefits" statements didn't reflect that. In a flurry of phone calls in the days after her chemotherapy appointment, she learned that Local 1262 of the United Food and Commercial Workers union, whose welfare fund provides her benefits, had raised the cap from $1 million in its 2001 contract negotiations with supermarket chains.
That gave her coverage for a few more rounds of weekly chemotherapy.
Hackensack University Medical Center agreed to proceed with her chemo on the day they told her she'd run out of coverage, Lester said. The hospital told her it would bill her health plan and see what happened.
At an emotional three-hour meeting, she talked with the billing supervisor and her medical social worker.
"I could not stop crying," Lester said. "All I could think about was that this was the end of the road for me: I am going to die. I worked so hard to stay ahead of this disease, all for nothing. My cancer cells need to be knocked down constantly. . . . I just wanted to run out of the room and scream, 'How can you do this to me?' "
In tight spots like this, patients figure out ingenious ways to work the system. Lester has used Local 1262's unlimited prescription plan to order chemotherapy drugs through her drugstore. By purchasing a drug like Herceptin — a $6,499 anti-cancer medicine that costs her a $30 copay under her prescription benefit — she keeps the charge off her hospital bill.
She then carries the drug to the hospital to be infused through the catheter above her heart.
Australia Montoya's husband works behind the deli counter at King's supermarket in Fort Lee and is a member of the Little Falls-based Local 464A of the United Food and Commercial Workers.
The benefits booklet for his plan says major-medical coverage has a "$150,000 maximum for each member and dependent per illness or injury due to the same or related causes per lifetime."
Montoya exhausted the benefit for her colon-cancer treatment Aug. 17, according to a letter the insurer faxed to her oncologist.
At that point, she still had several rounds of biweekly chemotherapy to go.
The health plan's board refused to cover her. "We cannot change or deviate from the guidelines of the plan," their letter said.
Subsequently, she spent 26 days in Englewood Hospital and Medical Center, a stay billed at $209,650. The health plan paid about half of that, under its hospital benefit, which is capped at 31 days. In all, the union health plan has paid Englewood close to $200,000 for her care, according to the hospital.
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