Helen Santoro, Kaiser Health News

For Tammy Rainey, finding a health care provider who knows about gender-affirming care has been a challenge in the rural northern Mississippi town where she lives.

As a transgender woman, Ms. Rainey needs the hormone estrogen, which allows her to physically transition by developing more feminine features. But when she asked her doctor for an estrogen prescription, he said he couldn’t provide that type of care.

“He’s generally a good guy and doesn’t act prejudiced. He gets my name and pronouns right,” said Ms. Rainey. “But when I asked him about hormones, he said, ‘I just don’t feel like I know enough about that. I don’t want to get involved in that.’ ”

So Ms. Rainey drives around 170 miles round trip every 6 months to get a supply of estrogen from a clinic in Memphis, Tenn., to take home with her.

The obstacles Ms. Rainey overcomes to access care illustrate a type of medical inequity that transgender people who live in the rural United States often face: A general lack of education about trans-related care among small-town health professionals who might also be reluctant to learn.

“Medical communities across the country are seeing clearly that there is a knowledge gap in the provision of gender-affirming care,” said Morissa Ladinsky, MD, a pediatrician who co-leads the Youth Multidisciplinary Gender Team at the University of Alabama–Birmingham (UAB).

Accurately counting the number of transgender people in rural America is hindered by a lack of U.S. census data and uniform state data. However, the Movement Advancement Project, a nonprofit organization that advocates for LGBTQ+ issues, used 2014-17 Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data from selected ZIP codes in 35 states to estimate that roughly one in six transgender adults in the United States live in a rural area. When that report was released in 2019, there were an estimated 1.4 million transgender people 13 and older nationwide. That number is now at least 1.6 million, according to the Williams Institute, a nonprofit think tank at the UCLA School of Law.

One in three trans people in rural areas experienced discrimination by a health care provider in the year leading up to the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey Report, according to an analysis by MAP. A third of all trans individuals report having to teach their doctors about their health care needs to receive appropriate care, and 62% worry about being negatively judged by a health care provider because of their sexual orientation or gender identity, according to data collected by the Williams Institute and other organizations.

A lack of local rural providers knowledgeable in trans care can mean long drives to gender-affirming clinics in metropolitan areas. Rural trans people are three times as likely as are all transgender adults to travel 25-49 miles for routine care.

In Colorado, for example, many trans people outside Denver struggle to find proper care. Those who do have a trans-inclusive provider are more likely to receive wellness exams, less likely to delay care due to discrimination, and less likely to attempt suicide, according to results from the Colorado Transgender Health Survey published in 2018.

Much of the lack of care experienced by trans people is linked to insufficient education on LGBTQ+ health in medical schools across the country. In 2014, the Association of American Medical Colleges, which represents 170 accredited medical schools in the United States and Canada, released its first curriculum guidelines on caring for LGBTQ+ patients. As of 2018, 76% of medical schools included LGBTQ health themes in their curriculum, with half providing three or fewer classes on this topic.

Perhaps because of this, almost 77% of students from 10 medical schools in New England felt “not competent” or “somewhat not competent” in treating gender minority patients, according to a 2018 pilot study. Another paper, published last year, found that even clinicians who work in trans-friendly clinics lack knowledge about hormones, gender-affirming surgical options, and how to use appropriate pronouns and trans-inclusive language.

Throughout medical school, trans care was only briefly mentioned in endocrinology class, said Justin Bailey, MD, who received his medical degree from UAB in 2021 and is now a resident there. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing or use the wrong pronouns, so I was hesitant and a little bit tepid in my approach to interviewing and treating this population of patients,” he said.

On top of insufficient medical school education, some practicing doctors don’t take the time to teach themselves about trans people, said Kathie Moehlig, founder of TransFamily Support Services, a nonprofit organization that offers a range of services to transgender people and their families. They are very well intentioned yet uneducated when it comes to transgender care, she said.

Some medical schools, like the one at UAB, have pushed for change. Since 2017, Dr. Ladinsky and her colleagues have worked to include trans people in their standardized patient program, which gives medical students hands-on experience and feedback by interacting with “patients” in simulated clinical environments.

For example, a trans individual acting as a patient will simulate acid reflux by pretending to have pain in their stomach and chest. Then, over the course of the examination, they will reveal that they are transgender.

In the early years of this program, some students’ bedside manner would change once the patient’s gender identity was revealed, said Elaine Stephens, a trans woman who participates in UAB’s standardized patient program. “Sometimes they would immediately start asking about sexual activity,” Stephens said.

Since UAB launched its program, students’ reactions have improved significantly, she said.

This progress is being replicated by other medical schools, said Ms. Moehlig. “But it’s a slow start, and these are large institutions that take a long time to move forward.”

Advocates also are working outside medical schools to improve care in rural areas. In Colorado, the nonprofit Extension for Community Health Outcomes, or ECHO Colorado, has been offering monthly virtual classes on gender-affirming care to rural providers since 2020. The classes became so popular that the organization created a 4-week boot camp in 2021 for providers to learn about hormone therapy management, proper terminologies, surgical options, and supporting patients’ mental health.

For many years, doctors failed to recognize the need to learn about gender-affirming care, said Caroline Kirsch, DO, director of osteopathic education at the University of Wyoming Family Medicine Residency Program–Casper. In Casper, this led to “a number of patients traveling to Colorado to access care, which is a large burden for them financially,” said Dr. Kirsch, who has participated in the ECHO Colorado program.

“Things that haven’t been as well taught historically in medical school are things that I think many physicians feel anxious about initially,” she said. “The earlier you learn about this type of care in your career, the more likely you are to see its potential and be less anxious about it.”

Educating more providers about trans-related care has become increasingly vital in recent years as gender-affirming clinics nationwide experience a rise in harassment and threats. For instance, Vanderbilt University Medical Center’s Clinic for Transgender Health became the target of far-right hate on social media last year. After growing pressure from Tennessee’s Republican lawmakers, the clinic paused gender-affirmation surgeries on patients younger than 18, potentially leaving many trans individuals without necessary care.

Stephens hopes to see more medical schools include coursework on trans health care. She also wishes for doctors to treat trans people as they would any other patient.

“Just provide quality health care,” she tells the medical students at UAB. “We need health care like everyone else does.”
 

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

For Tammy Rainey, finding a health care provider who knows about gender-affirming care has been a challenge in the rural northern Mississippi town where she lives.

As a transgender woman, Ms. Rainey needs the hormone estrogen, which allows her to physically transition by developing more feminine features. But when she asked her doctor for an estrogen prescription, he said he couldn’t provide that type of care.

“He’s generally a good guy and doesn’t act prejudiced. He gets my name and pronouns right,” said Ms. Rainey. “But when I asked him about hormones, he said, ‘I just don’t feel like I know enough about that. I don’t want to get involved in that.’ ”

So Ms. Rainey drives around 170 miles round trip every 6 months to get a supply of estrogen from a clinic in Memphis, Tenn., to take home with her.

The obstacles Ms. Rainey overcomes to access care illustrate a type of medical inequity that transgender people who live in the rural United States often face: A general lack of education about trans-related care among small-town health professionals who might also be reluctant to learn.

“Medical communities across the country are seeing clearly that there is a knowledge gap in the provision of gender-affirming care,” said Morissa Ladinsky, MD, a pediatrician who co-leads the Youth Multidisciplinary Gender Team at the University of Alabama–Birmingham (UAB).

Accurately counting the number of transgender people in rural America is hindered by a lack of U.S. census data and uniform state data. However, the Movement Advancement Project, a nonprofit organization that advocates for LGBTQ+ issues, used 2014-17 Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data from selected ZIP codes in 35 states to estimate that roughly one in six transgender adults in the United States live in a rural area. When that report was released in 2019, there were an estimated 1.4 million transgender people 13 and older nationwide. That number is now at least 1.6 million, according to the Williams Institute, a nonprofit think tank at the UCLA School of Law.

One in three trans people in rural areas experienced discrimination by a health care provider in the year leading up to the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey Report, according to an analysis by MAP. A third of all trans individuals report having to teach their doctors about their health care needs to receive appropriate care, and 62% worry about being negatively judged by a health care provider because of their sexual orientation or gender identity, according to data collected by the Williams Institute and other organizations.

A lack of local rural providers knowledgeable in trans care can mean long drives to gender-affirming clinics in metropolitan areas. Rural trans people are three times as likely as are all transgender adults to travel 25-49 miles for routine care.

In Colorado, for example, many trans people outside Denver struggle to find proper care. Those who do have a trans-inclusive provider are more likely to receive wellness exams, less likely to delay care due to discrimination, and less likely to attempt suicide, according to results from the Colorado Transgender Health Survey published in 2018.

Much of the lack of care experienced by trans people is linked to insufficient education on LGBTQ+ health in medical schools across the country. In 2014, the Association of American Medical Colleges, which represents 170 accredited medical schools in the United States and Canada, released its first curriculum guidelines on caring for LGBTQ+ patients. As of 2018, 76% of medical schools included LGBTQ health themes in their curriculum, with half providing three or fewer classes on this topic.

Perhaps because of this, almost 77% of students from 10 medical schools in New England felt “not competent” or “somewhat not competent” in treating gender minority patients, according to a 2018 pilot study. Another paper, published last year, found that even clinicians who work in trans-friendly clinics lack knowledge about hormones, gender-affirming surgical options, and how to use appropriate pronouns and trans-inclusive language.

Throughout medical school, trans care was only briefly mentioned in endocrinology class, said Justin Bailey, MD, who received his medical degree from UAB in 2021 and is now a resident there. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing or use the wrong pronouns, so I was hesitant and a little bit tepid in my approach to interviewing and treating this population of patients,” he said.

On top of insufficient medical school education, some practicing doctors don’t take the time to teach themselves about trans people, said Kathie Moehlig, founder of TransFamily Support Services, a nonprofit organization that offers a range of services to transgender people and their families. They are very well intentioned yet uneducated when it comes to transgender care, she said.

Some medical schools, like the one at UAB, have pushed for change. Since 2017, Dr. Ladinsky and her colleagues have worked to include trans people in their standardized patient program, which gives medical students hands-on experience and feedback by interacting with “patients” in simulated clinical environments.

For example, a trans individual acting as a patient will simulate acid reflux by pretending to have pain in their stomach and chest. Then, over the course of the examination, they will reveal that they are transgender.

In the early years of this program, some students’ bedside manner would change once the patient’s gender identity was revealed, said Elaine Stephens, a trans woman who participates in UAB’s standardized patient program. “Sometimes they would immediately start asking about sexual activity,” Stephens said.

Since UAB launched its program, students’ reactions have improved significantly, she said.

This progress is being replicated by other medical schools, said Ms. Moehlig. “But it’s a slow start, and these are large institutions that take a long time to move forward.”

Advocates also are working outside medical schools to improve care in rural areas. In Colorado, the nonprofit Extension for Community Health Outcomes, or ECHO Colorado, has been offering monthly virtual classes on gender-affirming care to rural providers since 2020. The classes became so popular that the organization created a 4-week boot camp in 2021 for providers to learn about hormone therapy management, proper terminologies, surgical options, and supporting patients’ mental health.

For many years, doctors failed to recognize the need to learn about gender-affirming care, said Caroline Kirsch, DO, director of osteopathic education at the University of Wyoming Family Medicine Residency Program–Casper. In Casper, this led to “a number of patients traveling to Colorado to access care, which is a large burden for them financially,” said Dr. Kirsch, who has participated in the ECHO Colorado program.

“Things that haven’t been as well taught historically in medical school are things that I think many physicians feel anxious about initially,” she said. “The earlier you learn about this type of care in your career, the more likely you are to see its potential and be less anxious about it.”

Educating more providers about trans-related care has become increasingly vital in recent years as gender-affirming clinics nationwide experience a rise in harassment and threats. For instance, Vanderbilt University Medical Center’s Clinic for Transgender Health became the target of far-right hate on social media last year. After growing pressure from Tennessee’s Republican lawmakers, the clinic paused gender-affirmation surgeries on patients younger than 18, potentially leaving many trans individuals without necessary care.

Stephens hopes to see more medical schools include coursework on trans health care. She also wishes for doctors to treat trans people as they would any other patient.

“Just provide quality health care,” she tells the medical students at UAB. “We need health care like everyone else does.”
 

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

For Tammy Rainey, finding a health care provider who knows about gender-affirming care has been a challenge in the rural northern Mississippi town where she lives.

As a transgender woman, Ms. Rainey needs the hormone estrogen, which allows her to physically transition by developing more feminine features. But when she asked her doctor for an estrogen prescription, he said he couldn’t provide that type of care.

“He’s generally a good guy and doesn’t act prejudiced. He gets my name and pronouns right,” said Ms. Rainey. “But when I asked him about hormones, he said, ‘I just don’t feel like I know enough about that. I don’t want to get involved in that.’ ”

So Ms. Rainey drives around 170 miles round trip every 6 months to get a supply of estrogen from a clinic in Memphis, Tenn., to take home with her.

The obstacles Ms. Rainey overcomes to access care illustrate a type of medical inequity that transgender people who live in the rural United States often face: A general lack of education about trans-related care among small-town health professionals who might also be reluctant to learn.

“Medical communities across the country are seeing clearly that there is a knowledge gap in the provision of gender-affirming care,” said Morissa Ladinsky, MD, a pediatrician who co-leads the Youth Multidisciplinary Gender Team at the University of Alabama–Birmingham (UAB).

Accurately counting the number of transgender people in rural America is hindered by a lack of U.S. census data and uniform state data. However, the Movement Advancement Project, a nonprofit organization that advocates for LGBTQ+ issues, used 2014-17 Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data from selected ZIP codes in 35 states to estimate that roughly one in six transgender adults in the United States live in a rural area. When that report was released in 2019, there were an estimated 1.4 million transgender people 13 and older nationwide. That number is now at least 1.6 million, according to the Williams Institute, a nonprofit think tank at the UCLA School of Law.

One in three trans people in rural areas experienced discrimination by a health care provider in the year leading up to the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey Report, according to an analysis by MAP. A third of all trans individuals report having to teach their doctors about their health care needs to receive appropriate care, and 62% worry about being negatively judged by a health care provider because of their sexual orientation or gender identity, according to data collected by the Williams Institute and other organizations.

A lack of local rural providers knowledgeable in trans care can mean long drives to gender-affirming clinics in metropolitan areas. Rural trans people are three times as likely as are all transgender adults to travel 25-49 miles for routine care.

In Colorado, for example, many trans people outside Denver struggle to find proper care. Those who do have a trans-inclusive provider are more likely to receive wellness exams, less likely to delay care due to discrimination, and less likely to attempt suicide, according to results from the Colorado Transgender Health Survey published in 2018.

Much of the lack of care experienced by trans people is linked to insufficient education on LGBTQ+ health in medical schools across the country. In 2014, the Association of American Medical Colleges, which represents 170 accredited medical schools in the United States and Canada, released its first curriculum guidelines on caring for LGBTQ+ patients. As of 2018, 76% of medical schools included LGBTQ health themes in their curriculum, with half providing three or fewer classes on this topic.

Perhaps because of this, almost 77% of students from 10 medical schools in New England felt “not competent” or “somewhat not competent” in treating gender minority patients, according to a 2018 pilot study. Another paper, published last year, found that even clinicians who work in trans-friendly clinics lack knowledge about hormones, gender-affirming surgical options, and how to use appropriate pronouns and trans-inclusive language.

Throughout medical school, trans care was only briefly mentioned in endocrinology class, said Justin Bailey, MD, who received his medical degree from UAB in 2021 and is now a resident there. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing or use the wrong pronouns, so I was hesitant and a little bit tepid in my approach to interviewing and treating this population of patients,” he said.

On top of insufficient medical school education, some practicing doctors don’t take the time to teach themselves about trans people, said Kathie Moehlig, founder of TransFamily Support Services, a nonprofit organization that offers a range of services to transgender people and their families. They are very well intentioned yet uneducated when it comes to transgender care, she said.

Some medical schools, like the one at UAB, have pushed for change. Since 2017, Dr. Ladinsky and her colleagues have worked to include trans people in their standardized patient program, which gives medical students hands-on experience and feedback by interacting with “patients” in simulated clinical environments.

For example, a trans individual acting as a patient will simulate acid reflux by pretending to have pain in their stomach and chest. Then, over the course of the examination, they will reveal that they are transgender.

In the early years of this program, some students’ bedside manner would change once the patient’s gender identity was revealed, said Elaine Stephens, a trans woman who participates in UAB’s standardized patient program. “Sometimes they would immediately start asking about sexual activity,” Stephens said.

Since UAB launched its program, students’ reactions have improved significantly, she said.

This progress is being replicated by other medical schools, said Ms. Moehlig. “But it’s a slow start, and these are large institutions that take a long time to move forward.”

Advocates also are working outside medical schools to improve care in rural areas. In Colorado, the nonprofit Extension for Community Health Outcomes, or ECHO Colorado, has been offering monthly virtual classes on gender-affirming care to rural providers since 2020. The classes became so popular that the organization created a 4-week boot camp in 2021 for providers to learn about hormone therapy management, proper terminologies, surgical options, and supporting patients’ mental health.

For many years, doctors failed to recognize the need to learn about gender-affirming care, said Caroline Kirsch, DO, director of osteopathic education at the University of Wyoming Family Medicine Residency Program–Casper. In Casper, this led to “a number of patients traveling to Colorado to access care, which is a large burden for them financially,” said Dr. Kirsch, who has participated in the ECHO Colorado program.

“Things that haven’t been as well taught historically in medical school are things that I think many physicians feel anxious about initially,” she said. “The earlier you learn about this type of care in your career, the more likely you are to see its potential and be less anxious about it.”

Educating more providers about trans-related care has become increasingly vital in recent years as gender-affirming clinics nationwide experience a rise in harassment and threats. For instance, Vanderbilt University Medical Center’s Clinic for Transgender Health became the target of far-right hate on social media last year. After growing pressure from Tennessee’s Republican lawmakers, the clinic paused gender-affirmation surgeries on patients younger than 18, potentially leaving many trans individuals without necessary care.

Stephens hopes to see more medical schools include coursework on trans health care. She also wishes for doctors to treat trans people as they would any other patient.

“Just provide quality health care,” she tells the medical students at UAB. “We need health care like everyone else does.”
 

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

In 2021, Tim Chevalier received the first of many coverage denials from his insurance company for the hair-removal procedure he needed as part of a phalloplasty, the creation of a penis.

Electrolysis is a common procedure among transgender people like Mr. Chevalier, a software developer in Oakland, Calif.. In some cases, it’s used to remove unwanted hair from the face or body. But it’s also required for a phalloplasty or a vaginoplasty, the creation of a vagina, because all hair must be removed from the tissue that will be relocated during surgery.

Mr. Chevalier’s insurer, Anthem Blue Cross, told him he needed what’s known as a prior authorization for the procedure. Even after Mr. Chevalier received the authorization, he said, his reimbursement claims kept getting denied. According to Mr. Chevalier, Anthem said the procedure was considered cosmetic.

Many trans patients have trouble getting their insurers to cover gender-affirming care. One reason is transphobia within the U.S. health care system, but another involves how medical diagnoses and procedures are coded for insurance companies. Nationwide, health care providers use a list of diagnostic codes provided by the ICD-10. And many of those, advocates for transgender people say, haven’t caught up to the needs of patients. Such diagnostic codes provide the basis for determining which procedures, such as electrolysis or surgery, insurance will cover.

“It’s widely regarded that the codes are very limited in ICD-10,” said Johanna Olson-Kennedy, MD, medical director of the Center for Transyouth Health and Development at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles.

She advocates for a move to the 11th edition of the coding system, which was endorsed by the World Health Organization in 2019 and began to be adopted around the globe in February. Today, more than 34 countries use ICD-11.

The new edition has replaced outdated terms like “transsexualism” and “gender identity disorder” with “gender incongruence,” which is no longer classified as a mental health condition, but as a sexual health one. This is crucial in reducing the stigmatization of trans people in health care, said Dr. Olson-Kennedy.

A move away from the mental health classification may also mean more coverage of gender-affirming care by insurance companies, which sometimes question mental health claims more rigorously than those for physical illnesses. WHO officials have said they hope that adding gender incongruence to a sexual health chapter will “help increase access to care for health interventions” and “destigmatize the condition,” according to the WHO website.

However, history suggests that ICD-11 likely won’t be implemented in the United States for years. The WHO first endorsed ICD-10 in 1990, but the United States didn’t implement it for 25 years.

Meanwhile, patients who identify as transgender and their doctors are spending hours trying to get coverage – or using crowdfunding to cover big out-of-pocket bills. Mr. Chevalier estimated he has received 78 hours of electrolysis at $140 per hour, costing $10,920.

Anthem spokesperson Michael Bowman wrote in an email that “there has been no medical denials or denial of coverage” because Anthem “preapproved coverage for these services.”

However, even after the preapproval was given, Anthem responded to Mr. Chevalier’s claims by stating the electrolysis would not be reimbursed because the procedure is considered cosmetic, rather than medically necessary. This is regardless of Mr. Chevalier’s diagnosis of gender dysphoria – the psychological distress felt when someone’s biological sex and gender identity don’t match – which many doctors consider a medically legitimate reason for hair removal.

Bowman wrote that “once this issue was identified, Anthem implemented an internal process which included a manual override in the billing system.”

Still, Mr. Chevalier filed a complaint with the California Department of Managed Health Care, and the state declared Anthem Blue Cross out of compliance. Additionally, after KHN started asking Anthem questions about Chevalier’s bills, two claims that had not been addressed since April were resolved in July. So far, Anthem has reimbursed Chevalier around $8,000.

Some procedures that trans patients receive can also be excluded from coverage because insurance companies consider them “sex specific.” For example, a transgender man’s gynecological visit may not be covered because his insurance plan covers those visits only for people enrolled as women.

“There is always this question of: What gender should you tell the insurance company?” said Nick Gorton, MD, an emergency medicine physician in Davis, Calif. Dr. Gorton, who is trans, recommends his patients with insurance plans that exclude trans care calculate the out-of-pocket costs that would be required for certain procedures based on whether the patient lists themselves as male or female on their insurance paperwork. For example, Dr. Gorton said, the question for a trans man becomes “what’s more expensive – paying for testosterone or paying for a Pap smear?” – since insurance likely won’t cover both.

For years, some physicians helped trans patients get coverage by finding other medical reasons for their trans-related care. Dr. Gorton said that if, for instance, a transgender man wanted a hysterectomy but his insurance didn’t cover gender-affirming care, Dr. Gorton would enter the ICD-10 code for pelvic pain, as opposed to gender dysphoria, into the patient’s billing record. Pelvic pain is a legitimate reason for the surgery and is commonly accepted by insurance providers, Dr. Gorton said. But some insurance companies pushed back, and he had to find other ways to help his patients.

In 2005, California passed a first-of-its-kind law that prohibits discrimination by health insurance on the basis of gender or gender identity. Now, 24 states and Washington, D.C., forbid private insurance from excluding transgender-related health care benefits.

Consequently, Dr. Gorton no longer needs to use different codes for patients seeking gender-affirming care at his practice in California. But physicians in other states are still struggling.

When Eric Meininger, MD, MPH, an internist and pediatrician at Indiana University Health’s gender health program in Indianapolis, treats a trans kid seeking hormone therapy, he commonly uses the ICD-10 code for “medication management” as the primary reason for the patient’s visit. That’s because Indiana has no law providing insurance protections for LGBTQ+ people, and when gender dysphoria is listed as the primary reason, insurance companies have denied coverage.

“It’s frustrating,” Dr. Meininger said. In a patient’s billing record, he sometimes provides multiple diagnoses, including gender dysphoria, to increase the likelihood that a procedure will be covered. “It’s not hard usually to come up with five or seven or eight diagnoses for someone because there’s lots of vague ones out there.”

Implementing ICD-11 won’t fix all the coding problems, as insurance companies may still refuse to cover procedures related to gender incongruence even though it is listed as a sexual health condition. It also won’t change the fact that many states still allow insurance to exclude gender-affirming care. But in terms of reducing stigma, it’s a step forward, Dr. Olson-Kennedy said.

One reason the United States took so long to switch to ICD-10 is that the American Medical Association strongly opposed the move. It argued the new system would put an incredible burden on doctors. Physicians would have to “contend with 68,000 diagnosis codes – a fivefold increase from the approximately 13,000 diagnosis codes in use today,” the AMA wrote in a 2014 letter. Implementing software to update providers’ coding systems would also be costly, dealing a financial blow to small medical practices, the association argued.

Unlike past coding systems, ICD-11 is fully electronic, with no physical manual of codes, and can be incorporated into a medical facility’s current coding system without requiring a new rollout, said Christian Lindmeier, a WHO spokesperson.

Whether these changes will make the adoption of the new edition easier in the United States is yet to be seen. For now, many trans patients in need of gender-affirming care must pay their bills out of pocket, fight their insurance company for coverage, or rely on the generosity of others.

“Even though I did get reimbursed eventually, the reimbursements were delayed, and it burned up a lot of my time,” Mr. Chevalier said. “Most people would have just given up.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

In 2021, Tim Chevalier received the first of many coverage denials from his insurance company for the hair-removal procedure he needed as part of a phalloplasty, the creation of a penis.

Electrolysis is a common procedure among transgender people like Mr. Chevalier, a software developer in Oakland, Calif.. In some cases, it’s used to remove unwanted hair from the face or body. But it’s also required for a phalloplasty or a vaginoplasty, the creation of a vagina, because all hair must be removed from the tissue that will be relocated during surgery.

Mr. Chevalier’s insurer, Anthem Blue Cross, told him he needed what’s known as a prior authorization for the procedure. Even after Mr. Chevalier received the authorization, he said, his reimbursement claims kept getting denied. According to Mr. Chevalier, Anthem said the procedure was considered cosmetic.

Many trans patients have trouble getting their insurers to cover gender-affirming care. One reason is transphobia within the U.S. health care system, but another involves how medical diagnoses and procedures are coded for insurance companies. Nationwide, health care providers use a list of diagnostic codes provided by the ICD-10. And many of those, advocates for transgender people say, haven’t caught up to the needs of patients. Such diagnostic codes provide the basis for determining which procedures, such as electrolysis or surgery, insurance will cover.

“It’s widely regarded that the codes are very limited in ICD-10,” said Johanna Olson-Kennedy, MD, medical director of the Center for Transyouth Health and Development at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles.

She advocates for a move to the 11th edition of the coding system, which was endorsed by the World Health Organization in 2019 and began to be adopted around the globe in February. Today, more than 34 countries use ICD-11.

The new edition has replaced outdated terms like “transsexualism” and “gender identity disorder” with “gender incongruence,” which is no longer classified as a mental health condition, but as a sexual health one. This is crucial in reducing the stigmatization of trans people in health care, said Dr. Olson-Kennedy.

A move away from the mental health classification may also mean more coverage of gender-affirming care by insurance companies, which sometimes question mental health claims more rigorously than those for physical illnesses. WHO officials have said they hope that adding gender incongruence to a sexual health chapter will “help increase access to care for health interventions” and “destigmatize the condition,” according to the WHO website.

However, history suggests that ICD-11 likely won’t be implemented in the United States for years. The WHO first endorsed ICD-10 in 1990, but the United States didn’t implement it for 25 years.

Meanwhile, patients who identify as transgender and their doctors are spending hours trying to get coverage – or using crowdfunding to cover big out-of-pocket bills. Mr. Chevalier estimated he has received 78 hours of electrolysis at $140 per hour, costing $10,920.

Anthem spokesperson Michael Bowman wrote in an email that “there has been no medical denials or denial of coverage” because Anthem “preapproved coverage for these services.”

However, even after the preapproval was given, Anthem responded to Mr. Chevalier’s claims by stating the electrolysis would not be reimbursed because the procedure is considered cosmetic, rather than medically necessary. This is regardless of Mr. Chevalier’s diagnosis of gender dysphoria – the psychological distress felt when someone’s biological sex and gender identity don’t match – which many doctors consider a medically legitimate reason for hair removal.

Bowman wrote that “once this issue was identified, Anthem implemented an internal process which included a manual override in the billing system.”

Still, Mr. Chevalier filed a complaint with the California Department of Managed Health Care, and the state declared Anthem Blue Cross out of compliance. Additionally, after KHN started asking Anthem questions about Chevalier’s bills, two claims that had not been addressed since April were resolved in July. So far, Anthem has reimbursed Chevalier around $8,000.

Some procedures that trans patients receive can also be excluded from coverage because insurance companies consider them “sex specific.” For example, a transgender man’s gynecological visit may not be covered because his insurance plan covers those visits only for people enrolled as women.

“There is always this question of: What gender should you tell the insurance company?” said Nick Gorton, MD, an emergency medicine physician in Davis, Calif. Dr. Gorton, who is trans, recommends his patients with insurance plans that exclude trans care calculate the out-of-pocket costs that would be required for certain procedures based on whether the patient lists themselves as male or female on their insurance paperwork. For example, Dr. Gorton said, the question for a trans man becomes “what’s more expensive – paying for testosterone or paying for a Pap smear?” – since insurance likely won’t cover both.

For years, some physicians helped trans patients get coverage by finding other medical reasons for their trans-related care. Dr. Gorton said that if, for instance, a transgender man wanted a hysterectomy but his insurance didn’t cover gender-affirming care, Dr. Gorton would enter the ICD-10 code for pelvic pain, as opposed to gender dysphoria, into the patient’s billing record. Pelvic pain is a legitimate reason for the surgery and is commonly accepted by insurance providers, Dr. Gorton said. But some insurance companies pushed back, and he had to find other ways to help his patients.

In 2005, California passed a first-of-its-kind law that prohibits discrimination by health insurance on the basis of gender or gender identity. Now, 24 states and Washington, D.C., forbid private insurance from excluding transgender-related health care benefits.

Consequently, Dr. Gorton no longer needs to use different codes for patients seeking gender-affirming care at his practice in California. But physicians in other states are still struggling.

When Eric Meininger, MD, MPH, an internist and pediatrician at Indiana University Health’s gender health program in Indianapolis, treats a trans kid seeking hormone therapy, he commonly uses the ICD-10 code for “medication management” as the primary reason for the patient’s visit. That’s because Indiana has no law providing insurance protections for LGBTQ+ people, and when gender dysphoria is listed as the primary reason, insurance companies have denied coverage.

“It’s frustrating,” Dr. Meininger said. In a patient’s billing record, he sometimes provides multiple diagnoses, including gender dysphoria, to increase the likelihood that a procedure will be covered. “It’s not hard usually to come up with five or seven or eight diagnoses for someone because there’s lots of vague ones out there.”

Implementing ICD-11 won’t fix all the coding problems, as insurance companies may still refuse to cover procedures related to gender incongruence even though it is listed as a sexual health condition. It also won’t change the fact that many states still allow insurance to exclude gender-affirming care. But in terms of reducing stigma, it’s a step forward, Dr. Olson-Kennedy said.

One reason the United States took so long to switch to ICD-10 is that the American Medical Association strongly opposed the move. It argued the new system would put an incredible burden on doctors. Physicians would have to “contend with 68,000 diagnosis codes – a fivefold increase from the approximately 13,000 diagnosis codes in use today,” the AMA wrote in a 2014 letter. Implementing software to update providers’ coding systems would also be costly, dealing a financial blow to small medical practices, the association argued.

Unlike past coding systems, ICD-11 is fully electronic, with no physical manual of codes, and can be incorporated into a medical facility’s current coding system without requiring a new rollout, said Christian Lindmeier, a WHO spokesperson.

Whether these changes will make the adoption of the new edition easier in the United States is yet to be seen. For now, many trans patients in need of gender-affirming care must pay their bills out of pocket, fight their insurance company for coverage, or rely on the generosity of others.

“Even though I did get reimbursed eventually, the reimbursements were delayed, and it burned up a lot of my time,” Mr. Chevalier said. “Most people would have just given up.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

In 2021, Tim Chevalier received the first of many coverage denials from his insurance company for the hair-removal procedure he needed as part of a phalloplasty, the creation of a penis.

Electrolysis is a common procedure among transgender people like Mr. Chevalier, a software developer in Oakland, Calif.. In some cases, it’s used to remove unwanted hair from the face or body. But it’s also required for a phalloplasty or a vaginoplasty, the creation of a vagina, because all hair must be removed from the tissue that will be relocated during surgery.

Mr. Chevalier’s insurer, Anthem Blue Cross, told him he needed what’s known as a prior authorization for the procedure. Even after Mr. Chevalier received the authorization, he said, his reimbursement claims kept getting denied. According to Mr. Chevalier, Anthem said the procedure was considered cosmetic.

Many trans patients have trouble getting their insurers to cover gender-affirming care. One reason is transphobia within the U.S. health care system, but another involves how medical diagnoses and procedures are coded for insurance companies. Nationwide, health care providers use a list of diagnostic codes provided by the ICD-10. And many of those, advocates for transgender people say, haven’t caught up to the needs of patients. Such diagnostic codes provide the basis for determining which procedures, such as electrolysis or surgery, insurance will cover.

“It’s widely regarded that the codes are very limited in ICD-10,” said Johanna Olson-Kennedy, MD, medical director of the Center for Transyouth Health and Development at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles.

She advocates for a move to the 11th edition of the coding system, which was endorsed by the World Health Organization in 2019 and began to be adopted around the globe in February. Today, more than 34 countries use ICD-11.

The new edition has replaced outdated terms like “transsexualism” and “gender identity disorder” with “gender incongruence,” which is no longer classified as a mental health condition, but as a sexual health one. This is crucial in reducing the stigmatization of trans people in health care, said Dr. Olson-Kennedy.

A move away from the mental health classification may also mean more coverage of gender-affirming care by insurance companies, which sometimes question mental health claims more rigorously than those for physical illnesses. WHO officials have said they hope that adding gender incongruence to a sexual health chapter will “help increase access to care for health interventions” and “destigmatize the condition,” according to the WHO website.

However, history suggests that ICD-11 likely won’t be implemented in the United States for years. The WHO first endorsed ICD-10 in 1990, but the United States didn’t implement it for 25 years.

Meanwhile, patients who identify as transgender and their doctors are spending hours trying to get coverage – or using crowdfunding to cover big out-of-pocket bills. Mr. Chevalier estimated he has received 78 hours of electrolysis at $140 per hour, costing $10,920.

Anthem spokesperson Michael Bowman wrote in an email that “there has been no medical denials or denial of coverage” because Anthem “preapproved coverage for these services.”

However, even after the preapproval was given, Anthem responded to Mr. Chevalier’s claims by stating the electrolysis would not be reimbursed because the procedure is considered cosmetic, rather than medically necessary. This is regardless of Mr. Chevalier’s diagnosis of gender dysphoria – the psychological distress felt when someone’s biological sex and gender identity don’t match – which many doctors consider a medically legitimate reason for hair removal.

Bowman wrote that “once this issue was identified, Anthem implemented an internal process which included a manual override in the billing system.”

Still, Mr. Chevalier filed a complaint with the California Department of Managed Health Care, and the state declared Anthem Blue Cross out of compliance. Additionally, after KHN started asking Anthem questions about Chevalier’s bills, two claims that had not been addressed since April were resolved in July. So far, Anthem has reimbursed Chevalier around $8,000.

Some procedures that trans patients receive can also be excluded from coverage because insurance companies consider them “sex specific.” For example, a transgender man’s gynecological visit may not be covered because his insurance plan covers those visits only for people enrolled as women.

“There is always this question of: What gender should you tell the insurance company?” said Nick Gorton, MD, an emergency medicine physician in Davis, Calif. Dr. Gorton, who is trans, recommends his patients with insurance plans that exclude trans care calculate the out-of-pocket costs that would be required for certain procedures based on whether the patient lists themselves as male or female on their insurance paperwork. For example, Dr. Gorton said, the question for a trans man becomes “what’s more expensive – paying for testosterone or paying for a Pap smear?” – since insurance likely won’t cover both.

For years, some physicians helped trans patients get coverage by finding other medical reasons for their trans-related care. Dr. Gorton said that if, for instance, a transgender man wanted a hysterectomy but his insurance didn’t cover gender-affirming care, Dr. Gorton would enter the ICD-10 code for pelvic pain, as opposed to gender dysphoria, into the patient’s billing record. Pelvic pain is a legitimate reason for the surgery and is commonly accepted by insurance providers, Dr. Gorton said. But some insurance companies pushed back, and he had to find other ways to help his patients.

In 2005, California passed a first-of-its-kind law that prohibits discrimination by health insurance on the basis of gender or gender identity. Now, 24 states and Washington, D.C., forbid private insurance from excluding transgender-related health care benefits.

Consequently, Dr. Gorton no longer needs to use different codes for patients seeking gender-affirming care at his practice in California. But physicians in other states are still struggling.

When Eric Meininger, MD, MPH, an internist and pediatrician at Indiana University Health’s gender health program in Indianapolis, treats a trans kid seeking hormone therapy, he commonly uses the ICD-10 code for “medication management” as the primary reason for the patient’s visit. That’s because Indiana has no law providing insurance protections for LGBTQ+ people, and when gender dysphoria is listed as the primary reason, insurance companies have denied coverage.

“It’s frustrating,” Dr. Meininger said. In a patient’s billing record, he sometimes provides multiple diagnoses, including gender dysphoria, to increase the likelihood that a procedure will be covered. “It’s not hard usually to come up with five or seven or eight diagnoses for someone because there’s lots of vague ones out there.”

Implementing ICD-11 won’t fix all the coding problems, as insurance companies may still refuse to cover procedures related to gender incongruence even though it is listed as a sexual health condition. It also won’t change the fact that many states still allow insurance to exclude gender-affirming care. But in terms of reducing stigma, it’s a step forward, Dr. Olson-Kennedy said.

One reason the United States took so long to switch to ICD-10 is that the American Medical Association strongly opposed the move. It argued the new system would put an incredible burden on doctors. Physicians would have to “contend with 68,000 diagnosis codes – a fivefold increase from the approximately 13,000 diagnosis codes in use today,” the AMA wrote in a 2014 letter. Implementing software to update providers’ coding systems would also be costly, dealing a financial blow to small medical practices, the association argued.

Unlike past coding systems, ICD-11 is fully electronic, with no physical manual of codes, and can be incorporated into a medical facility’s current coding system without requiring a new rollout, said Christian Lindmeier, a WHO spokesperson.

Whether these changes will make the adoption of the new edition easier in the United States is yet to be seen. For now, many trans patients in need of gender-affirming care must pay their bills out of pocket, fight their insurance company for coverage, or rely on the generosity of others.

“Even though I did get reimbursed eventually, the reimbursements were delayed, and it burned up a lot of my time,” Mr. Chevalier said. “Most people would have just given up.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.