Coronavirus
fromThe Nation
17 hours agoI Was Treated for Tuberculosis While Millions Were Robbed of Care
Immunosuppressant medication increases the risk of infections, leading to a positive tuberculosis test after years of negative results.
Amy-Jane Davies has been on six NHS waiting lists for 21 months, primarily for gynaecological surgery related to her endometriosis. Her symptoms include abdominal cramping, severe bloating, migraines, and fatigue, which have drastically affected her daily life.
Most people leave doctor visits with prescriptions, but still feel unsure—instructions make sense, but no one asks about their life. In contrast, when a provider knows your name, remembers your story, and explains care in a way that fits you, the experience feels different—and that difference matters.
"This argues for the need to sustain such policies and shows that it is possible to right the wrongs retroactively, which is a powerful idea," said Kenneth Michelson, MD, MPH, associate professor of Pediatrics in the Division of Emergency Medicine and a co-author of the study.
Congress has kept key drug assistance funding at $900.3 million annually since 2014. New enrollments for state programs jumped 30% from 2022 to 2024, in part because states cut off pandemic-era Medicaid assistance. As of January, at least 18 states have pulled back their Ryan White AIDS Drug Assistance Programs, known as ADAPs, in some way.
Pregnancy is the only condition where Florida courts have ruled that a patient can be forced to undergo unwanted treatment. Even a state prisoner on a hunger strike has more rights to make medical decisions.
Dunbar provided more than curative medicine. It also offered preventive care, professional training and organized advocacy. It was led largely by members of W. E. B. Du Bois' "Talented Tenth," a cadre of educated and socially conscious Black Americans who advocated for marginalized Black Americans. Their efforts provide lessons for advancing health equity today.
Everything is changing, and in the face of that, America is failing. Over 90,000 souls have paid for our failing. Millions more are living in terror for their livelihoods and their families. But Covid-19 isn't a technology problem, or a science question, or a supply chain issue, or even a question of doctoring. This challenge is public health, and that is something we've been failing at for a damn long time.
A child born this morning in Britain can expect to be in good health only until they are 61. The last 20 years of their life will be blighted by illness: dodgy hearts, painful joints, an inability to get about. Our healthy life expectancy has been dropping for years; it is now the lowest since 2011, when records began.
I have seen bad, poor, good and excellent care co-existing side by side. Families have described to me good experiences, terrible experiences. It is patchy, it is inconsistent and what this investigation is about, is trying to find out the things that move us from poor and bad to good and excellent.
Because of budget cuts, the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health has ended clinical services at seven of its public health clinic sites. As of Feb. 27, the county is no longer providing services such as vaccinations, sexually transmitted infection testing and treatment, or tuberculosis diagnosis and specialty TB care at the affected locations, according to county officials and a department fact sheet.
February is a time to honor Black history, resilience, and progress. It is also a moment to confront an uncomfortable truth: in New York City, equity in health, family stability, and community well-being is still shaped by race and zip code. For too many Black families, structural inequities continue to limit access to care, not because of individual choices, but because of where people live and how our systems are designed.
Black people made up 48 percent of new HIV diagnoses in the South, but only 21 percent of PrEP users in the South; in the Midwest, Black people made up 48 percent of new HIV diagnoses, but only 12 percent of PrEP users. This regional disparity demonstrates the significant gap between HIV burden and preventive medication access among Black populations across different areas of the country.
The issue is particularly critical right now for people who have insurance plans through the Affordable Care Act marketplace. Prices for those plans have skyrocketed this year after Congress failed to extend critical tax credits. Without those credits, monthly premiums for ACA plans have, on average, more than doubled. Early data on ACA enrollments for 2026 not only suggests that fewer people are signing up for the plans, but also that those who are enrolling are often choosing bronze plans, which are high-deductible plans.
In light of the systemic dismantling of America's public health agencies, these moves essentially create a shadow infrastructure to maintain some of what is being lost. While this is a promising development, it does nothing to stop a troubling trend that has been emerging for some time: The country is quickly becoming fragmented along partisan lines when it comes to public health.
Fear of detention or deportation is leading many immigrants to avoid medical appointments, even when those visits are essential. This chilling effect is particularly acute among pregnant individuals, who may delay or forgo prenatal check‑ups out of concern that seeking care could expose them to immigration enforcement. The result is a growing public health crisis: expectant patients are left without consistent medical oversight, and communities face widening disparities in maternal and infant health outcomes.
Many other higher-income countries are grappling with rising obesity and diabetes, but the U.S. stands out for how consistently those risks translate into worse cardiovascular outcomes, and how wide the gaps are by income, race, ethnicity, and geography.