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Epidemic: Speedboat Epidemiology

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Tue, 29 Aug 2023 09:00:00 +0000

Shahidul Haq Khan, a Bangladeshi health worker, and Tim Miner, an American with the World Health Organization, worked together on a smallpox eradication team in Bangladesh in the early 1970s. The team was based on a hospital ship and traveled by speedboat to track down cases of smallpox from Barishal to Faridpur to Patuakhali. Every person who agreed to get the smallpox vaccination was a potential outbreak averted, so the team was determined to vaccinate as many people as possible. 

The duo leaned on each other, sometimes literally, as they traversed the country’s rugged and watery geography. Khan, whom Miner sometimes referred to as “little brother,” used his local knowledge to help the team navigate both the cultural and physical landscape. When crossing rickety bamboo bridges, he would hold Miner’s hand and help him across. “We didn’t let him fall,” chuckled Khan. 

Episode 4 of “Eradicating Smallpox” explores what it took to bring care directly to people where they were. 

To conclude the episode, host Céline Gounder speaks with public health advocate Joe Osmundson about his work to help coordinate a culturally appropriate response to mpox in New York City during the summer of 2022. “The model that we’re trying to build is a mobile unit that delivers all sorts of sexual and primary health care opportunities. They’re opportunities!” exclaimed Osmundson.

The Host:

Céline Gounder
Senior fellow & editor-at-large for public health, KFF Health News


@celinegounder


Read Céline’s stories

Céline is senior fellow and editor-at-large for public health with KFF Health News. She is an infectious diseases physician and epidemiologist. She was an assistant commissioner of health in New York City. Between 1998 and 2012, she studied tuberculosis and HIV in South Africa, Lesotho, Malawi, Ethiopia, and Brazil. Gounder also served on the Biden-Harris Transition COVID-19 Advisory Board. 

In Conversation with Céline Gounder:

Joe Osmundson 
Public health advocate and clinical assistant professor of biology at New York University


@reluctantlyjoe

Voices from the Episode:

Tim Miner
Former World Health Organization smallpox eradication program worker in Bangladesh

Shahidul Haq Khan
Former World Health Organization smallpox eradication program worker in Bangladesh

Click to open the transcript

Transcript: Speedboat Epidemiology

Podcast Transcript 

Epidemic: “Eradicating Smallpox” 

Season 2, Episode 4: Speedboat Epidemiology 

Air date: Aug. 29, 2023 

Editor’s note: If you are able, we encourage you to listen to the audio of “Epidemic,” which includes emotion and emphasis not found in the transcript. This transcript, generated using transcription software, has been edited for style and clarity. Please use the transcript as a tool but check the corresponding audio before quoting the podcast. 

TRANSCRIPT 

Céline Gounder: In the early 1970s, smallpox was still stalking parts of South Asia. India had launched its eradication program more than a decade before, but public health workers couldn’t keep up with the virus. 

Enter … the bifurcated needle. 

[Metallic ding sound] 

[Light instrumental music begins playing] 

Tim Miner: It was a marvelous invention in its simplicity. It looks like a little cocktail fork. 

Céline Gounder: You dip the prongs into a bit of vaccine … 

Tim Miner: And you would just prick the skin about 12 or 15 times until there was a little trace of blood and then you’d take another one. 

Céline Gounder: It barely took 30 seconds to vaccinate someone. 

And it didn’t hurt. 

Yogesh Parashar: No. 

Céline Gounder: Well … it didn’t hurt too much. 

Yogesh Parashar: It was just like a pinprick, rapidly done on your forearm. You had a huge supply with you and you just went about and — dot, dot, dot — vaccinated people, carry hundreds with you at one go. 

Tim Miner: And you could train somebody in a matter of minutes to do it. 

Céline Gounder: Easy to use. Easy to clean. And a big improvement over the twisting teeth of the vaccine instrument health workers had to use before. 

The bifurcated needle was maybe 2 and a half, 3 inches long. 

Small, but sturdy enough for rough-and-tumble fieldwork. 

Yogesh Parashar: It was made of steel. And it used to come in something that looked like a brick. It was just like one of those gold bricks that you see in the movies. 

Céline Gounder: And maybe worth its weight in gold. 

[Light instrumental music fades to silence] 

Céline Gounder: That “cocktail fork” was among the pioneering innovations that helped public health workers wipe out a centuries-old virus. 

Tim Miner: You had the bifurcated needle, you had the sterile water, and you had the freeze-dried vaccine, and you could mix them up and off you’d go. 

Céline Gounder: Ah, but getting there wasn’t always that easy. 

I’m Dr. Céline Gounder, and this is “Epidemic.” 

[Epidemic theme music plays

Céline Gounder: On this episode, we’re exploring what it took to deliver the smallpox vaccine to the people — and all the remaining places — that needed it most. 

In South Asia, Bangladesh was a major battleground in the campaign to stop smallpox. 

We spoke with a man who helped lead an eradication team there. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: My name is MD Shahidul Haq Khan. 

Céline Gounder: For our interview, Shahidul Haq Khan invited me to his home in Barishal. That’s in south-central Bangladesh. We sat at a table in the courtyard, and his granddaughter, Kashfia, who looked like she was around 10 years old, stood close by … 

Céline Gounder: Kashfia. So nice to meet you, Kashfia. I’m Céline. 

Kashfia: Hello. 

Céline Gounder: Hello. [Céline chuckles.] Are you going to listen to us? 

Céline Gounder: Kashfia wanted to hear her granddad’s stories, and I got the impression that was also important to Shahidul. 

As the two of us did our best to communicate through a translator — with neighbors, chickens, and street noise all around — Shahidul wanted me to understand why he was speaking with me and the significance of the smallpox campaign. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: The purpose of saying these things is that we needed all this effort. We put a lot of hard work and effort behind smallpox eradication. 

Céline Gounder: Very hard work. You must be very proud of what you helped accomplish. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: Yes, of course. Of course, I can say that we’re proud to say that we’ve eliminated smallpox from this country. 

Céline Gounder: The job was to hunt down smallpox — and stop it — in a country packed with people, crisscrossed by rivers, edged with mangrove forests, and dotted with remote lowland river islands. 

[Rain sounds fade in] 

Céline Gounder: And there were the monsoons. It rained A LOT. 

[Bouncy, upbeat music begins playing softly in the background] 

[Rain sounds fades out] 

Tim Miner: Uh, well, we got wet. [Tim chuckles.] To state the obvious. 

Céline Gounder: That’s Tim Miner. He was an officer with the World Health Organization in Bangladesh. 

Tim Miner: My legal name is Howard Miner, but I was the third Howard, so I got nicknamed Tim. 

Céline Gounder: Shahidul and Tim worked together for several months in 1974. 

The public health strategy was called “search and containment,” and a big part of that meant figuring out how to get the vaccine from one community to the next. 

Tim Miner: And occasionally you have to park your motorcycle, take your shoes and socks off, and walk across a leech-infested paddy field to get to the next case. 

Céline Gounder: The work depended on local knowledge, and Shahidul was the local knowledge. 

He was the lead Bangladeshi member on the eradication team, and when they arrived at a village that had a suspected case of smallpox, often Shahidul went in first, with Tim a few steps behind …  

Tim Miner: Someone would bring out some chairs. And sometimes we would have tea and biscuits. Or, if they didn’t have tea and biscuits, then somebody would climb up and get a coconut and chop off the top and watch me drink it and dribble the coconut milk all over myself, and everybody had a good time.  

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: Dr. Miner called me “little brother.” I was younger then. How old was I? 21 or 22 years old. 

Tim Miner: He referred to me as “Dr. Miner,” even though I’m not a … a physician. That’s how he referred to me. 

Céline Gounder: Shahidul had been working in public health before he joined the smallpox effort. He offered guidance on culture — and occasionally gave Tim a hand on rickety bamboo bridges. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: Most of the time, I escorted him across the bamboo bridge. I took his bag and held his hand and helped him across. 

Tim Miner: You learn to walk and not look down and just, uh, you know, hang onto the poles. And, fortunately, I never fell in. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: We didn’t let him fall. 

[Bouncy, upbeat music fades out] 

Céline Gounder: The team was based on a hospital ship, called the Niramoy. It had all the basics: a couple of cabins, a space to perform surgery, plus a few comforts, like a generator they’d turn on in the morning for showers, a cook who picked up fresh fish at the market every day. 

Tim Miner: I would have a doodh cha, a tea with milk, and a kacha morich pyaz — scrambled eggs with, uh, chiles. 

Céline Gounder: The hospital ship hauled supplies from port to port. And everywhere they went, they towed a speedboat along with them. 

Tim Miner: We would receive reports of cases and we would get down from the ship in our speedboat, and the speedboat driver would take us as far as the boat could go. And we would walk, do the investigation, and find out who the contacts were and vaccinate the village and surrounding areas. 

Céline Gounder: Tim calls it “speedboat epidemiology.” The work required a willingness to go wherever and everywhere the virus took up residence. By and large, people welcomed them and were glad to get the vaccine. 

Tim Miner: They know about smallpox. They’ve been dealing with it, you know, all of their lives. And they have lost family members to the disease. 

Céline Gounder: Still, the task was huge: to find and vaccinate every person with smallpox — and all the people that person had come in contact with. 

[Subtle music begins playing] 

Céline Gounder: In modern-day public health, the work gets done with cellphones and spreadsheets, maybe social media. In Bangladesh in 1974, they had none of that. 

Shahidul and Tim had the speedboat, motorbikes, and their feet to cover a territory that took them all the way down to the coast. 

Tim Miner: First there’s Barishal … 

Shahidul Haq Khan: Latachapli … 

Tim Miner: … then there’s Faridpur … 

Shahidul Haq Khan: … Dankupara … 

Tim Miner: … then there’s Patuakhali. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: … and Kuakata. 

Céline Gounder: People were constantly on the move — maybe for seasonal work or better opportunities. That made contact tracing tricky. During one investigation, Tim identified a man who’d been exposed to the virus, but he’d left the region for Dhaka. 

The capital was densely populated — a city of 2 million in 1974. And smallpox was highly contagious. So Tim called a colleague — on the shortwave radio — to see if he could track down the man in Dhaka. 

[Ambient Dhaka street noises play in the background] 

Tim Miner: Well, it’s not just a street address or a ZIP code or anything like that, as you can well imagine. He lived in a basti, or a slum. And I described it as best I could. You know, ‘You enter by the big tree and turn left at the tea stall and walk the path and then start calling out for the family name.’ 

Céline Gounder: They found the guy! And vaccinated him. Tim says the man had smallpox, but the virus hadn’t quite erupted yet, so it was a pretty mild case. 

Tim Miner: Because of his immunization. It is somewhat miraculous, the needle in the haystack. 

[Music fades out] 

Céline Gounder: In Bangladesh, people weren’t likely to just show up to a local clinic to get the vaccine, so the team took the vaccine to the people. 

At its best, public health follows and bends to the rhythm of the culture. For example, after Ramadan, as Muslims began to break the fast for Eid … 

Tim Miner: Where people go back to their villages and visit and bring presents and gifts and food. 

[Ambient sounds of the water from a port in Bangladesh play] 

Céline Gounder: The team went to ports where steamer ships departed, asking in Bengali if travelers had come in contact with anyone with the disease’s distinctive pustules. 

Tim Miner: Guṭibasanta, uh, basanta rōgī. 

Céline Gounder: Which means “smallpox patient.” 

Tim Miner: Have you seen any guṭibasanta and basanta rōgī? 

Céline Gounder: Tim says he relied on his team to figure out how best to make the person in front of them comfortable. 

Tim Miner: ‘What would you do? What do you think should be done in this case?’ And I don’t think this is done often enough. It was a real partnership. It was real working together. 

Céline Gounder: Well, a partnership, yes. But Shahidul Haq Khan says the search-and-containment program was pretty strict. His work was meticulously checked and checked again. 

Remember, he was maybe 21 or 22 years old, with a big responsibility on his shoulders, and Tim Miner was a tough boss. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: At any cost, we had to vaccinate all. There was no other way. 

Céline Gounder: Sometimes Shahidul had to return to the same home over and over — or hang out, if the man of the house was still in the fields working. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: We had to wait until they returned. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: Otherwise, Dr. Miner would again take us back there, no matter how late. [Shahidul laughs] 

Céline Gounder: One evening, Shahidul returned to the hospital ship after a day of door-to-door canvassing, and had to give a not-so-great report to Tim. 

[Tense music begins playing] 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] … a pregnant, uh, … 

English translation: I couldn’t vaccinate a pregnant woman in Dankupara. This was the first time that I couldn’t vaccinate someone. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: I couldn’t convince her at all. He immediately told us to pack up. He stopped the work and said, “Let’s go.” 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: Immediately. At that very moment. 

Tim Miner: We were working basically 24/7, if need be. 

Céline Gounder: The team headed to the speedboat. It was late. And it was freezing. Shahidul remembers the bite of the cold air as they blasted across the water toward the woman’s village. 

Tim Miner: I fully understand, understood why this woman hesitated to be vaccinated. She was expecting a child and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her life or the life of the unborn child. So, we were very gentle in talking with her and answering her questions. It was time well spent. 

Céline Gounder: The woman agreed to take the vaccine. 

Shahidul Haq Khan: [Shahidul speaking in Bengali] 

English translation: That day was one of the most memorable of my life. 

[Music fades to silence] 

Céline Gounder: Many on the team considered their outreach to women fundamental to success in South Asia, because … women talk. 

What they say, what they believe, echoes. 

Tim Miner: They get together, they do the laundry, they do the cooking, they share good times and bad times. This woman who was vaccinated probably showed her vaccination either in her family or in the village. And that’s the importance of getting one person, especially a pregnant woman who will tell others about immunization. 

Céline Gounder: Public health workers trying to end smallpox across South Asia mostly had the same tools — the vaccine, that bifurcated needle, and a strategy — on paper. But squashing the virus required tactics specific to each community: its needs, its culture, its worries … and its terrain. 

[Staccato music begins playing] 

Céline Gounder: Smallpox eradication workers went to great lengths to meet people where they were. 

But Joe Osmundson, who’s a public health advocate in New York City, told me that’s not an approach we see nearly enough in public health today. 

Joe Osmundson: Céline, it’s not your first time at the rodeo. [Celine laughs] Um, it’s like, we’ve all been through this again and again and again. 

We know what the problems are and yet we seem reluctant to actually do the right thing, which is to build processes that meet people where they’re at. 

Céline Gounder: After the break, more on what it looks like to bring public health directly to those who need it most. 

[Music fades to silence] 

Céline Gounder: Mpox, formerly known as monkeypox, is a highly contagious virus. Last summer, mpox cases spiked around the world, spreading quickly, predominantly among men who have sex with men. Mpox spreads through physical contact. It causes a painful blistering rash and, in extreme cases, it can be deadly. 

My colleague Joe Osmundson acted as a community liaison for the New York City Department of Health to help coordinate a culturally appropriate response to mpox. 

Joe Osmundson: I’m a microbiologist by training, but I also just do tons of advocacy and activism as a queer person who believes in equal access to the best biomedicine available. 

Céline Gounder: As mpox cases were increasing, we knew we needed to vaccinate those at highest risk as quickly as possible. Joe’s plan? Mobile vans to quickly bring mpox vaccines to places where high-risk people already were. 

Joe Osmundson: Our idea was to go to commercial sex venues, because commercial sex venues self-select for people with a large number of sexual partners. And if you give them the best possible immunity, that protects not just the people at the party but all the other people in the larger sexual network that they connect with. 

Céline Gounder: What is a commercial sex venue? 

Joe Osmundson: It’s basically a nonhousehold space where people gather for sex. 

When you have public venues where people gather, you have the opportunity to meet them where they’re at, to provide education, to provide condoms, to provide access to HIV testing and access to health care. 

So many queer people don’t have affirming doctors, don’t feel comfortable asking about sexual health with their physicians. So, you can put a van outside with affirming physicians and actually provide that preventative care that actually stops the infection. 

Céline Gounder: Did you run into any obstacles in doing this outreach? Setting up the mobile vans …? 

Joe Osmundson: So, there is a huge amount of mistrust in this community for city officials, for good reason. For many decades there was a group inside the New York City Department of Health that had undercover people who would go to these parties and find violations and close them down. So really it was only me and a couple other people doing outreach on-site. 

Céline Gounder: How did it work, what was the scene like, and what was your role in that? 

Joe Osmundson: Yeah, so, when I was there, I would go inside the club and, you know, there’s a little line, an area where people get dressed or undressed, and I would just hang out there and people would have a lot of questions. 

So, because, again, they perceived me as being, like, a part of their community, it was very easy to talk to people and just ask, you know, “Hey, have you had your vaccine yet? Have you had both doses?” If not, you know, it’ll take 15 minutes. I can walk you down to the van and get you that dose tonight. 

Céline Gounder: Were these mobile vaccination vans successful? 

Joe Osmundson: We find them to be massively successful. Once the city was able to get the vans there, people were so grateful to be able to get a shot on-site. 

We were giving 60, 80 doses per event — when the event might only have 140 people — so we were vaccinating 60% of these parties. 

That’s the other magic of the mobile units, was that you had people queer people talking to queer people, and even queer people of color talking to queer people of color and offering the care in terms that that community knows how to respond to and also just has more inherent trust with. 

Céline Gounder: But, at the same time, in New York City, mpox vaccination rates have been disproportionately low in Black communities. 

Joe Osmundson: Mm-hmm. 

Céline Gounder: As well as Hispanic communities. 

What could public health leaders have done from the start to ensure more equitable vaccine distribution, and what should they be doing now? 

Joe Osmundson: Yeah. It was a remarkable sort of mistake that, not just New York, but many cities made where they said we’ll build the foundation and then worry about equity later, because this is an emergency. 

So we’ll open up a brick-and-mortar in Chelsea, and then we’ll get the vaccine vans up at, you know, Brooklyn Pride, a Bronx health clinic. You know, we’ll do that later. 

We know that if you don’t do equity as the foundation, you will be chasing disparities. 

Céline Gounder: What can we say about who’s been vaccinated and who remains unvaccinated? 

Joe Osmundson: Black people are undervaccinated. They also have a higher rate of advanced HIV infection, and mpox plus advanced HIV means really severe disease and even death. Ninety percent of mpox deaths have been in Black people, Black queer people with advanced HIV. 

And we need something brand-new because we’ve been failing these folks for years. They have so many horrific experiences with their health care providers, or they don’t have insurance, or they’re underemployed, or they live super far from the nearest health care clinic. 

When people have difficulties accessing care, it spreads to every disease state, from HIV to mpox to primary care, etc. 

Céline Gounder: How can we apply this model of health outreach beyond mpox? 

Joe Osmundson: The model that we’re trying to build is a mobile unit that delivers all sorts of sexual and primary health care opportunities. They are opportunities! You know? If someone’s getting a covid vaccine, give them a flu vaccine at the same time. The literature shows that these interventions work. 

Céline Gounder: What else is there beyond vans? Are there other strategies when it comes to reaching people where they are that we haven’t employed that we should be thinking about? 

Joe Osmundson: We have affirming clinicians, affirming Black queer clinicians all over this city. Their expertise should be fostered. 

For years there’s been this model of health officials talking to community. And that’s outreach. And we aren’t done with that. 

We have experts, we have clinicians, we have epidemiologists, we have scientists who are in the community who know the science just as well as health officials. And communication needs to go two ways. 

Céline Gounder: That was Joe Osmundson, a microbiologist at New York University and the author of the book “Virology.” 

Joe Osmundson: The sexiest public health outreach worker of all time! [Laughter] A face made for radio. [Laughter] 

[“Epidemic” theme music begins playing] 

Céline Gounder: Next time on “Epidemic” … 

Larry Brilliant: Your company is sending death all over the world. You’re the greatest exporter of smallpox in history … You’ve got to stop this. 

Céline Gounder: “Eradicating Smallpox,” our latest season of “Epidemic,” is a co-production of KFF Health News and Just Human Productions. 

Additional support provided by the Sloan Foundation. 

This episode was produced by Taylor Cook, Zach Dyer, and me. 

Redwan Ahmed was our translator and local reporting partner in Bangladesh. 

Managing editor Taunya English was scriptwriter for the episode — with help from Stephanie O’Neill. 

Oona Tempest is our graphics and photo editor. 

The show was engineered by Justin Gerrish. 

Voice acting by Pinaki Kar. 

We had extra editing help from Simone Popperl. 

Music in this episode is from the Blue Dot Sessions and Soundstripe. 

We’re powered and distributed by Simplecast. 

If you enjoyed the show, please tell a friend. And leave us a review on Apple Podcasts. It helps more people find the show. 

Follow KFF Health News on Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok

And find me on Twitter @celinegounder. On our socials, there’s more about the ideas we’re exploring on the podcasts. And subscribe to our newsletters at kffhealthnews.org so you’ll never miss what’s new and important in American health care, health policy, and public health news. 

I’m Dr. Céline Gounder. Thanks for listening to “Epidemic.” 

[“Epidemic” theme fades out

Credits

Taunya English
Managing editor


@TaunyaEnglish

Taunya is senior editor for broadcast innovation with KFF Health News, where she leads enterprise audio projects.

Zach Dyer
Senior producer


@zkdyer

Zach is senior producer for audio with KFF Health News, where he supervises all levels of podcast production.

Taylor Cook
Associate producer


@taylormcook7

Taylor is associate audio producer for Season 2 of Epidemic. She researches, writes, and fact-checks scripts for the podcast.

Oona Tempest
Photo editing, design, logo art


@oonatempest

Oona is a digital producer and illustrator with KFF Health News. She researched, sourced, and curated the images for the season.

Additional Newsroom Support

Lydia Zuraw, digital producer Tarena Lofton, audience engagement producer Hannah Norman, visual producer and visual reporter Simone Popperl, broadcast editor Chaseedaw Giles, social media manager Mary Agnes Carey, partnerships editor Damon Darlin, executive editor Terry Byrne, copy chief Gabe Brison-Trezise, deputy copy chiefChris Lee, senior communications officer 

Additional Reporting Support

Swagata Yadavar, translator and local reporting partner in IndiaRedwan Ahmed, translator and local reporting partner in Bangladesh

Epidemic is a co-production of KFF Health News and Just Human Productions.

To hear other KFF Health News podcasts, click here. Subscribe to Epidemic on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google, Pocket Casts, or wherever you listen to podcasts.

Title: Epidemic: Speedboat Epidemiology
Sourced From: kffhealthnews.org/news/podcast/speedboat-epidemiology-season-2-episode-4-speedboat-epidemiology/
Published Date: Tue, 29 Aug 2023 09:00:00 +0000

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Kaiser Health News

The Price You Pay for an Obamacare Plan Could Surge Next Year

Published

on

kffhealthnews.org – Daniel Chang – 2025-06-17 04:00:00


Josefina Muralles, a part-time night receptionist in North Miami Beach, struggles to care for her family while relying on subsidized Obamacare coverage. Her household income is too high for Medicaid but qualifies for Affordable Care Act subsidies, which are set to expire at the end of 2025. Without them, premiums could rise by 75% or more, threatening access to critical care. Over 24 million Americans, especially in Florida and Texas, face similar risks. If the subsidies lapse, the uninsured rate could jump by millions. Advocates warn that without swift congressional action, low- and middle-income families will face devastating coverage losses.


MIAMI — Josefina Muralles works a part-time overnight shift as a receptionist at a Miami Beach condominium so that during the day she can care for her three kids, her aging mother, and her brother, who is paralyzed.

She helps her mother feed, bathe, and give medicine to her adult brother, Rodrigo Muralles, who has epilepsy and became disabled after contracting covid-19 in 2020.

“He lives because we feed him and take care of his personal needs,” said Josefina Muralles, 41. “He doesn’t say, ‘I need this or that.’ He has forgotten everything.”

Though her husband works full time, the arrangement means their household income is just above the federal poverty line — too high to qualify for Florida’s Medicaid program but low enough to make Muralles and her husband eligible for subsidized health insurance through the Affordable Care Act marketplace, also known as Obamacare.

Next year, Muralles said, she and her husband may not be able to afford that health insurance coverage, which has paid for her prescription blood thinners, cholesterol medication, and two surgeries, including one to treat a genetic disorder.

Extra subsidies put in place during the pandemic — which reduced the premiums Muralles and her husband paid by more than half, to $30 a month — are in place only through Dec. 31. Without enhanced subsidies, Affordable Care Act insurance premiums would rise by more than 75% on average, with bills for people in some states more than doubling, according to estimates from KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes KFF Health News.

Florida and Texas would be hit especially hard, as they have more people enrolled in the marketplace than other states. Some of their congressional districts alone, especially in South Florida, have more people signed up for Obamacare than entire states.

Like many of the more than 24 million Americans enrolled in the insurance marketplace this year, Muralles was unaware that the enhanced subsidies are slated to expire. She said she cannot afford a premium hike because inflation has already eaten into her household’s budget.

“The rent is going up,” she said. “The water bill is going up.”

Low-income enrollees like the Muralles couple would see the biggest percentage increases in premiums if enhanced subsidies expire.

Middle-income enrollees who earn more than four times the federal poverty line would no longer be eligible for subsidies at all. Those middle-income enrollees (who earn at least $62,600 for a single person in 2025) are disproportionately older, self-employed, and living in rural areas.

Julio Fuentes, president of the Florida State Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, said many of his organization’s members are small business owners who rely on Obamacare for health coverage.

“It’s either this or nothing,” he said.

The Congressional Budget Office estimated that letting the enhanced subsidies expire would, by 2034, increase the number of people without health insurance by 4.2 million. In tandem with changes to Medicaid in the House of Representatives’ reconciliation bill and the Trump administration’s proposed rules for the marketplace, including toughening income verification and shortening enrollment periods, it would increase the number of uninsured people by 16 million over that time period.

A study by the Urban Institute, a nonprofit think tank, found that Hispanic and Black people would see greater coverage losses than other groups if the extra subsidies lapse.

Fuentes noted that about 5 million Hispanics are enrolled in the ACA marketplace, and that Donald Trump won the Hispanic vote in Florida in 2024. He hopes the president and congressional Republicans see extending the enhanced subsidies as a way to hold on to those voters.

“This is probably a good way, or a good start, to possibly grow that base even more,” he said.

Enrollment in the marketplace has grown faster since 2020 in the states won by Trump in 2024. A recent KFF survey found that 45% of Americans who buy their own health insurance identify as or lean Republican, including 3 in 10 who identify as Make America Great Again supporters. Smaller shares identify as Democrats or Democratic-leaning independents (35%) or do not lean toward either party (20%).

Kush Desai, a White House spokesperson, said the rules proposed by the Trump administration, combined with the provisions in the House-passed budget bill, would “strengthen the ACA marketplace.” He noted that the CBO projects the legislation would reduce premiums for some plans about 12% on average by 2034 — but out-of-pocket costs would rise or remain the same for most subsidized ACA consumers.

“Democrats know Americans broadly support ending waste, fraud, and abuse, as The One, Big, Beautiful Bill does, which is why they are desperately trying to change the conversation,” Desai said.

But Lauren Aronson, executive director of Keep Americans Covered, a group in Washington, D.C., representing health insurers, hospitals, physicians, and patient advocates, said it is critical to raise awareness about the likely impact of losing the enhanced subsidies, which are also known as advanced premium tax credits. She is encouraged that Democrats have proposed legislation to extend the enhanced tax credits, and that some Republican senators have voiced support.

What worries Aronson most is that the Republican-controlled Congress is more focused on extending tax cuts than enhanced subsidies, she said. The current bill extending the 2017 tax cuts would increase the federal deficit by about $2.4 trillion over the next decade, according to the CBO, while making the enhanced subsidies permanent would increase the deficit by $358 billion over roughly the same period.

“Congress is moving forward on a tax reconciliation package that purports to benefit working families,” Aronson said. “But if you don’t take care of the tax credits, working families will be left holding the bag.”

Brian Blase, president of Paragon Health Institute, a conservative health policy think tank, said the enhanced subsidies were supposed to be a temporary measure during the covid-19 pandemic to help people at risk of losing coverage.

Instead, he said, the enhanced subsidies facilitated fraud because enrollees did not need to verify their income eligibility to receive zero-premium plans if they reported incomes at or near the federal poverty level.

The enhanced subsidies also worsen health inflation, discourage employers from offering health insurance benefits, and crowd out alternative models, such as short-term insurance and Farm Bureau plans, Blase said.

“Permitting these subsidies to expire would just be going back to Obamacare as it was written,” Blase said. “That is a more efficient program than the program that we have now.”

New rules for the marketplace proposed by the Trump administration in March are already designed to address fraud, said Anna Howard, a policy expert with the American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network, which advocates for increased health insurance coverage. Howard said extending the enhanced tax credits would help ensure that people who are legitimately eligible for coverage can get it.

“We don’t want to see over 5 million people be kicked off their health insurance coverage out of fears of fraud when the policies being proposed don’t necessarily address fraud,” she said.

Without affordable premiums, many consumers will turn to short-term health plans, health care cost-sharing ministries, and other forms of coverage that do not have the benefits or protections of the health law, she said.

“These are plans that don’t provide coverage for prescription drugs, or they have lifetime and annual limits,” she said. “For a cancer patient, those plans don’t work.”

Though the enhanced subsidies do not expire until the end of the year, the Blue Cross Blue Shield Association would prefer Congress to act by fall to avoid confusion during open enrollment, said David Merritt, a senior vice president. Insurers are preparing rates to meet state deadlines. By October, consumers will receive 60-day plan renewal notices with their 2026 premiums.

Without enhanced subsidies, Merritt said, competition in the marketplace will wither, leading to fewer coverage options and higher prices, especially in states that have not expanded Medicaid eligibility and where Obamacare enrollment spiked during the past four years, like Florida and Texas. “Voters and patients are really going to see the impact,” he said.

Republican and Democratic representatives for some of the Florida congressional districts with the highest numbers of people in the marketplace did not respond to repeated interview requests.

Muralles, of North Miami, Florida, said she wants her representatives to work in the interest of constituents like herself, who need health insurance coverage to care for their families.

“Now is the time to prove to us that they are with us,” Muralles said. “When everybody’s healthy, everybody goes to work, everybody can pay taxes, everybody can have a better life.”

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

Subscribe to KFF Health News’ free Morning Briefing.

This article first appeared on KFF Health News and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.

The post The Price You Pay for an Obamacare Plan Could Surge Next Year appeared first on kffhealthnews.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Center-Left

The content primarily advocates for the continuation of enhanced subsidies under the Affordable Care Act, highlighting the potential negative impacts on low- and middle-income Americans if these subsidies expire. It includes voices concerned about healthcare affordability and coverage losses, emphasizing the human and economic consequences. While it does present perspectives from conservative sources criticizing the subsidies and noting fraud concerns, the overall tone and framing favor sustaining or expanding government healthcare support, which aligns with center-left policy priorities. The article avoids overt partisan rhetoric, aiming for a balanced but slightly progressive leaning on health policy matters.

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A Revolutionary Drug for Extreme Hunger Offers Clues to Obesity’s Complexity

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kffhealthnews.org – Claire Sibonney – 2025-06-16 04:00:00


Dean Shenk, a teen with Prader-Willi syndrome—a rare genetic disorder causing insatiable hunger—found life-changing relief through Vykat XR, a new FDA-approved drug that regulates hunger signals in the brain. Once at constant risk of life-threatening binge episodes, Dean now experiences calmer behavior, increased muscle mass, and a healthier life. Though the drug costs over \$466,000 annually, its impact is profound. Vykat XR marks progress in obesity treatment, revealing obesity’s complex roots and aiding broader research. However, federal funding cuts threaten such breakthroughs, prompting concerns from researchers who rely on NIH-backed support to continue developing treatments for rare and genetic disorders.


Ali Foley Shenk still remembers the panic when her 10-year-old son, Dean, finished a 20-ounce box of raisins in the seconds the cupboard was left unlocked. They rushed to the emergency room, fearing a dangerous bowel impaction.

The irony stung: When Dean was born, he was so weak and floppy he survived only with feeding tubes because he couldn’t suck or swallow. He was diagnosed as a baby with Prader-Willi syndrome — a rare disorder sparked by a genetic abnormality. He continued to be disinterested in food for years. But doctors warned that as Dean grew, his hunger would eventually become so uncontrollable he could gain dangerous amounts of weight and even eat until his stomach ruptured.

“It’s crazy,” said Foley Shenk, who lives in Richmond, Virginia. “All of a sudden, they flip.”

Prader-Willi syndrome affects up to 20,000 people in the U.S. The most striking symptom is its most life-threatening: an insatiable hunger known as hyperphagia that prompts caregivers to padlock cupboards and fridges, chain garbage cans, and install cameras. Until recently, the only treatment was growth hormone therapy to help patients stay leaner and grow taller, but it didn’t address appetite.

In March, the Food and Drug Administration approved Vykat XR, an extended-release version of the existing drug diazoxide choline, which eases the relentless hunger and may offer insights into the biology of extreme appetite and binge eating. This breakthrough for these patients comes as other drugs are revolutionizing how doctors treat obesity, which affects more than 40% of American adults. GLP-1 agonist medications Ozempic, Wegovy, and others also are delivering dramatic results for millions.

But what’s becoming clear is that obesity isn’t one disease — it’s many, said Jack Yanovski, a senior obesity researcher at the National Institutes of Health, who co-authored some of the Vykat XR studies. Researchers are learning that obesity’s drivers can be environmental, familial, or genetic. “It only makes sense that it’s complex to treat,” Yanovski said.

Obesity medicine is likely heading the way of treatments for high blood pressure or diabetes, with three to five effective options for different types of patients. For example, up to 15% of patients in the GLP-1 trials didn’t respond to those drugs, and at least one study found the medications didn’t significantly help Prader-Willi patients.

Yet, researchers say, efforts to understand how to treat obesity’s many causes and pathways are now in question as the Trump administration is dismantling the nation’s infrastructure for medical discovery.

While Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. promotes a “Make America Healthy Again” agenda centered on diet and lifestyle, federal funding for health research is being slashed, including some grants that support the study of obesity. University labs face cuts, FDA staffers are being laid off en masse, and rare disease researchers fear the ripple effects across all medical advances. Even with biotech partnerships — such as the work that led to Vykat XR — progress depends on NIH-funded labs and university researchers.

“That whole thing is likely to get disrupted now,” said Theresa Strong, research director for the Foundation for Prader-Willi Research.

HHS spokesperson Andrew Nixon said in a statement that no NIH awards for Prader-Willi syndrome research have been cut. “We remain committed to supporting critical research into rare diseases and genetic conditions,” he said.

But Strong said that already some of the contacts at the FDA she’d spent nearly 15 years educating about the disorder have left the agency. She’s heard that some research groups are considering moving their labs to Europe.

Early progress in hunger and obesity research is transforming the life of Dean Shenk. During the trial for Vykat XR, his anxiety about food eased so much that his parents began leaving cupboards unlocked.

Jennifer Miller, a pediatric endocrinologist at the University of Florida who co-led the Vykat XR trials, treats around 600 Prader-Willi patients, including Dean. She said the impact she’s seen is life-changing. Since the drug trial started in 2018, some of her adult patients have begun living independently, getting into college, and starting jobs — milestones that once felt impossible. “It opens up their world in so many ways.”

Over 26 years in practice, she’s also seen just how severely the disease hurts patients. One patient ate a four-pound bag of dehydrated potato flakes; another ingested all 10 frozen pizzas from a Costco pack; some ate pet food. Others have climbed out of windows, dived into dumpsters, even died after being hit by a car while running away from home in search of food.

Low muscle tone, developmental delays, cognitive disabilities, and behavioral challenges are also common features of the disorder.

Dean attends a special education program, his mother said. He also has narcolepsy and cataplexy — a sudden loss of muscle control triggered by strong emotions. His once-regular meltdowns and skin-picking, which led to deep, infected lesions, were tied to anxiety over his obsessive, almost painful urge to eat.

In the trial, though, his hyperphagia was under control, according to Miller and Dean’s mother. His lean muscle mass quadrupled, his body fat went down, and his bone mineral density increased. Even the skin-picking stopped, Foley Shenk said.

Vykat XR is not a cure for the disease. Instead, it calms overactive neurons in the hypothalamus that release neuropeptide Y — one of the body’s strongest hunger signals. “In most people, if you stop secreting NPY, hunger goes away,” said Anish Bhatnagar, CEO of Soleno Therapeutics, which makes the medication, the company’s first drug. “In Prader-Willi, that off switch doesn’t exist. It’s literally your brain telling you, ‘You’re starving,’ as you eat.”

GLP-1 drugs, by contrast, mimic a gut hormone that helps people feel full by slowing digestion and signaling satiety to the brain.

Vykat XR’s possible side effects include high blood sugar, increased hair growth, and fluid retention or swelling, but those are trade-offs that many patients are willing to make to get some relief from the most devastating symptom of the condition.

Still, the drug’s average price of $466,200 a year is staggering even for rare-disease treatments. Soleno said in a statement it expects broad coverage from both private and public insurers and that the copayments will be “minimal.” Until more insurers start reimbursing the cost, the company is providing the drug free of charge to trial participants.

Soleno’s stock soared 40% after the FDA nod and has held fairly steady since, with the company valued at nearly $4 billion as of early June.

While Vykat XR may be limited in whom it can help with appetite control, obesity researchers are hoping the research behind it may help them decode the complexity of hunger and identify other treatment options.

“Understanding how more targeted therapies work in rare genetic obesity helps us better understand the brain pathways behind appetite,” said Jesse Richards, an internal medicine physician and the director of obesity medicine at the University of Oklahoma-Tulsa’s School of Community Medicine.

That future may already be taking shape. For Prader-Willi, two other notable phase 3 clinical trials are underway, led by Acadia Pharmaceuticals and Aardvark Therapeutics, each targeting different pathways. Meanwhile, hundreds of trials for general obesity are currently recruiting despite the uncertainties in U.S. medical research funding.

That brings more hope to patients like Dean. Nearly six years after starting treatment, the now-16-year-old is a calmer, happier kid, his mom said. He’s more social, has friends, and can focus better in school. With the impulse to overeat no longer dominating his every thought, he has space for other interests — Star Wars, American Ninja Warrior, and a healthy appreciation for avocados among them.

“Before the drug, it just felt like a dead end. My child was miserable,” Foley Shenk said. “Now, we have our son back.”

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

Subscribe to KFF Health News’ free Morning Briefing.

This article first appeared on KFF Health News and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.

The post A Revolutionary Drug for Extreme Hunger Offers Clues to Obesity’s Complexity appeared first on kffhealthnews.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Center-Left

The content focuses on a health and medical research topic, highlighting advances in treating a rare genetic obesity disorder and the broader challenges in obesity research. It criticizes policies under a Trump administration for cutting federal health research funding and disrupting medical discovery, a critique more commonly aligned with center-left perspectives that advocate for strong public investment in science and healthcare. While the piece is largely factual and informative, its framing around funding cuts and administration policies suggests a mild bias to the center-left, emphasizing the importance of government support in medical innovation.

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As Federal Health Grants Shrink, Memory Cafes Help Dementia Patients and Their Caregivers

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kffhealthnews.org – Lydia McFarlane, WVIA – 2025-06-10 04:00:00


Rob Kennedy, diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s, attends a memory cafe twice monthly in Clarks Summit, Pennsylvania. These cafes, found nationwide, provide social support for people with cognitive impairment and their caregivers through low-cost activities like trivia and crafts. Kennedy credits the gatherings with giving him purpose and easing isolation. With dementia cases rising, memory cafes offer affordable community-based relief, especially as federal health funding faces cuts. Wisconsin leads the nation in memory cafes, supported by grassroots efforts and state dementia care networks. The model emphasizes hospitality and community, benefiting both patients and caregivers by fostering connection and reducing stress.


Rob Kennedy mingled with about a dozen other people in a community space in Clarks Summit, Pennsylvania.

The room, decorated with an under-the-sea theme, had a balloon arch decked out with streamers meant to look like jellyfish and a cloud of clear balloons mimicking ocean bubbles.

Kennedy comes to this memory cafe twice a month since being diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s disease in his late 50s.

Everyone here has a degree of memory loss or is a caregiver for someone with memory loss.

Attendees colored on worksheets with an underwater theme. They drank coffee and returned to the breakfast bar for seconds on pastries.

A quick round of trivia got everyone’s minds working.

“We start out with just little trivia — many of us cannot answer any of the questions,” Kennedy said with a laugh.

“We all have a good time going around,” he added. “You know, we all try to make it fun.”

The northeastern Pennsylvania memory cafe Kennedy attends is one of more than 600 around the country, according to Dementia Friendly America. The gatherings for people with cognitive impairment and their caregivers are relatively cheap and easy to run — often the only expense is a small rental fee for the space.

As state and local health departments nationwide try to make sense of what the potential loss of $11 billion of federal health funding will mean for the services they can offer their communities, memory cafe organizers believe their work may become even more important.

Losing Memory, and Other Things, Too

Kennedy’s diagnosis led him to retire, ending a decades-long career as a software engineer at the University of Scranton.

He recommends memory cafes to other people with dementia and their families.

“If they’re not coming to a place like this, they’re doing themselves a disservice. You got to get out there and see people that are laughing.”

The memory cafes he attends happen twice a month. They have given him purpose, Kennedy said, and help him cope with negative emotions around his diagnosis.

“I came in and I was miserable,” Kennedy said. “I come in now and it’s like, it’s family, it’s a big, extended family. I get to meet them. I get to meet their partners. I get to meet their children. So, it’s really nice.”

More than 6 million people in the U.S. have been diagnosed with some form of dementia. The diagnosis can be burdensome on relationships, particularly with family members who are the primary caregivers.

A new report from the Alzheimer’s Association found that 70% of caregivers reported that coordinating care is stressful. Socializing can also become more difficult after diagnosis.

“One thing I have heard again and again from people who come to our memory cafe is ‘all of our friends disappeared,’” said Beth Soltzberg, a social worker at Jewish Family and Children’s Service of Greater Boston, where she directs the Alzheimer’s and related dementia family support program.

The inclusion of caregivers is what distinguishes memory cafes from other programs that serve people with cognitive impairment, like adult day care. Memory cafes don’t offer formal therapies. At a memory cafe, having fun together and being social supports the well-being of participants. And that support is for the patient and their caregiver — because both can experience social isolation and distress after a diagnosis.

A 2021 study published in Frontiers in Public Health indicated that even online memory cafes during the pandemic provided social support for both patients and their family members.

“A memory cafe is a cafe which recognizes that some of the clients here may have cognitive impairment, some may not,” said Jason Karlawish, a geriatrics professor at the University of Pennsylvania’s Perelman School of Medicine and the co-director of the Penn Memory Center.

Karlawish regularly recommends memory cafes to his patients, in part because they benefit caregivers as well.

“The caregiver-patient dyad, I find often, has achieved some degree of connection and enjoyment in doing things together,” Karlawish said. “For many, that’s a very gratifying experience, because dementia does reshape relationships.”

“That socialization really does help ease the stress that they feel from being a caregiver,” said Kyra O’Brien, a neurologist who also teaches at Penn’s Perelman School of Medicine. “We know that patients have better quality of life when their caregivers are under less stress.”

An Affordable Way To Address a Growing Problem

As the population grows older, the number of available family caregivers is decreasing, according to the AARP Public Policy Institute. The report found that the number of potential caregivers for an individual 80 or older will decrease significantly by 2050.

In 2024, the Alzheimer’s Association issued a report projecting a jump in dementia cases in the U.S. from an estimated 6.9 million people age 65 or older currently living with Alzheimer’s disease to 13.8 million people by 2060. It attributed this increase primarily to the aging of the baby boom generation, or those born between 1946 and 1964.

As cases of memory loss are projected to rise, the Trump administration is attempting to cut billions in health spending. Since memory cafes don’t rely on federal dollars, they may become an even more important part of the continuum of care for people with memory loss and their loved ones.

“We’re fighting off some pretty significant Medicaid cuts at the congressional level,” said Georgia Goodman, director of Medicaid policy for LeadingAge, a national nonprofit network of services for people as they age. “Medicaid is a program that doesn’t necessarily pay for memory cafes, but thinking about ensuring that the long-term care continuum and the funding mechanisms that support it are robust and remain available for folks is going to be key.”

The nonprofit MemoryLane Care Services operates two memory cafes in Toledo, Ohio. They’re virtually free to operate, because they take place in venues that don’t require payment, according to Salli Bollin, the executive director.

“That really helps from a cost standpoint, from a funding standpoint,” Bollin said.

One of the memory cafes takes place once a month at a local coffee shop. The other meets at the Toledo Museum of Art. MemoryLane Care Services provides the museum employees with training in dementia sensitivity so they can lead tours for the memory cafe participants.

The memory cafe that Rob Kennedy attends in Pennsylvania costs about $150 a month to run, according to the host organization, The Gathering Place.

“This is a labor of love,” said board member Paula Baillie, referring to the volunteers who run the memory cafe. “The fact that they’re giving up time — they recognize that this is important.”

The monthly budget goes toward crafts, books, coffee, snacks, and some utilities for the two-hour meetings. Local foundations provide grants that help cover those costs.

Even though memory cafes are inexpensive and not dependent on federal funding, they could face indirect obstacles because of the Trump administration’s recent funding cuts.

Organizers worry the loss of federal funds could negatively affect the host institutions, such as libraries and other community spaces.

Memory Cafe Hot Spot: Wisconsin

At least 39 states have hosted memory cafes recently, according to Dementia Friendly America. Wisconsin has the most — more than 100.

The state has a strong infrastructure focused on memory care, which should keep its memory cafes running regardless of what is happening at the federal level, according to Susan McFadden, a professor emerita of psychology at the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh. She co-founded the Fox Valley Memory Project, which oversees 14 memory cafes.

“They’ve operated on the grassroots, they’ve operated on pretty small budgets and a lot of goodwill,” she said.

Since 2013, Wisconsin has also had a unique network for dementia care, with state-funded dementia care specialists for each county and federally recognized tribe in Wisconsin. The specialists help connect individuals with cognitive impairment to community resources, bolstering memory cafe attendance.

McFadden first heard about memory cafes in 2011, before they were popular in the United States. She was conducting research on memory and teaching courses on aging.

McFadden reached out to memory cafes in the United Kingdom, where the model was already popular and well connected. Memory cafe organizers invited her to visit and observe them in person, so she planned a trip overseas with her husband.

Their tour skipped over the typical tourist hot spots, taking them to more humble settings.

“We saw church basements and senior center dining rooms and assisted living dining rooms,” she said. “That, to me, is really the core of memory cafes. It’s hospitality. It’s reaching out to people you don’t know and welcoming them, and that’s what they did for us.”

After her trip, McFadden started applying for grants and scouting locations that could host memory cafes in Wisconsin.

She opened her first one in Appleton, Wisconsin, in 2012, just over a year after her transformative trip to the U.K.

These days, she points interested people to a national directory of memory cafes hosted by Dementia Friendly America. The organization’s Memory Cafe Alliance also offers training modules — developed by McFadden and her colleague Anne Basting — to help people establish cafes in their own communities, wherever they are.

“They’re not so hard to set up; they’re not expensive,” McFadden said. “It doesn’t require an act of the legislature to do a memory cafe. It takes community engagement.”

This article is part of a partnership with NPR and WVIA.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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This story can be republished for free (details).

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

Subscribe to KFF Health News’ free Morning Briefing.

This article first appeared on KFF Health News and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.

The post As Federal Health Grants Shrink, Memory Cafes Help Dementia Patients and Their Caregivers appeared first on kffhealthnews.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Center-Left

This content focuses on community health and social support programs for individuals with dementia, highlighting concerns about federal funding cuts under the Trump administration, which is a Republican-led government. The article advocates for social programs and notes the potential negative impact of reduced funding on vulnerable populations, aligning it moderately with center-left perspectives that prioritize government-supported social services while maintaining a generally neutral and informative tone.

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