Lilia Cervantes, MD

Juan, a 50-year-old man with acute myeloid leukemia (AML), sat on the edge of his bed, dejected. Juan’s leukemia had relapsed for a third time, and he was low on options and optimism. Originally from Mexico, he had made the journey to Colorado to work as a mechanic and care for his disabled son. Like millions of other individuals in the United States, he did not obtain a visa and had no affordable options for health insurance. For nearly a decade, that had seemed not to matter, until he became ill. Initially presenting to the emergency department with fatigue and night sweats, Juan was diagnosed with poor-risk AML and underwent emergent induction chemotherapy reimbursed under Emergency Medicaid (Table). Just when his bone marrow biopsy showed remission, however, Juan was told there was no chance to cure him, as his documentation status precluded him from receiving the next recommended therapy: stem cell transplant (SCT). Without transplant, Juan’s leukemia relapsed within a few months. He decided to undergo all the salvage chemotherapy that was offered, worrying about how his son would survive without his father.

For the patient with a new cancer diagnosis, a difference in immigration status may be the difference between life and death. Undocumented immigrants are excluded from federally funded benefits, including those offered under Medicare, most Medicaid programs, and the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (Table).¹ The nearly 11 million undocumented immigrants residing in the United States are integral to the workforce and economy. Although they pay taxes that fund Medicaid, contributing approximately $11.7 billion nationally in 2017, undocumented immigrants are ineligible to benefit from such programs.² The inequity of this policy is highlighted by Juan, an undocumented immigrant presenting with a new diagnosis of AML.

The Emergency Medical Treatment and Active Labor Act (EMTALA) is a 1986 federal law which mandates that patients who present to the hospital with an emergency medical condition receive appropriate evaluation and stabilizing treatment. An emergency condition is defined as “manifesting itself by acute symptoms of sufficient severity … such that the absence of immediate medical attention could reasonably be expected to result in (A) placing the patient’s health in serious jeopardy; (B) serious impairment to bodily functions; or (C) serious dysfunction of any bodily organ or part” (Table).^3,4 The Centers for Medicare & Medicaid manual restates the EMTALA definition and notes that services for an emergency medical condition cannot include care related to organ transplantation. Most state Emergency Medicaid programs have adopted the federal definition of what constitutes a medical emergency.⁵ As a result, undocumented individuals who qualify for Medicaid benefits but who do not meet citizenship requirements are eligible to “receive Medical Assistance benefits for emergency medical care only.”³

Similar to our patient Juan, individuals who initially present with an acute leukemia would be eligible for induction chemotherapy, as blast crisis is imminently fatal. Once in remission, however, standard-of-care therapy for patients without disqualifying comorbidities, depending on cytogenetic disease phenotypes, recommends the only current potential cure: allogeneic SCT, a treatment that was far from routine practice at the time EMTALA was enacted.⁶ When preparing for transplant, a patient is stable and no longer fits EMTALA’s “emergency” criteria, even though their health is still in “serious jeopardy,” as their cancer has been incompletely treated. Because most state Emergency Medicaid programs adopt the federal definition of an emergency medical condition, the cure is out of reach.

This policy requires clinicians to deviate from the usual standard of care and results in inferior outcomes. For AML patients in the poor-risk category, allogeneic SCT is recommended following induction chemotherapy.⁷ The risk of relapse is 30% to 40% if consolidation therapy includes SCT, vs 70% to 80% if treated with chemotherapeutic consolidation alone.⁶ AML patients in the intermediate-, and sometimes even favorable- risk categories, have been shown to benefit from allogeneic SCT as well, with risk of relapse half that of a patient who undergoes consolidation without transplant. Undocumented individuals with AML are therefore resigned to inadequate cancer treatment, including lifelong salvage chemotherapy, and have a substantially decreased chance of achieving sustained remission.⁶ Furthermore, providing inequitable care for undocumented patients with other medical conditions, such as end-stage kidney disease (ESKD), has been associated with inferior patient-reported outcomes, higher mortality and hospital costs, and clinician burnout. In many states, undocumented immigrants with ESKD rely on emergency dialysis (dialysis made available only after presenting critically ill to an emergency department). In 2019, Colorado’s Medicaid agency opted to include ESKD as a qualifying condition for Emergency Medicaid, thereby expanding access to scheduled dialysis. This led to improved patient quality of life, a decreased emotional toll on patients and clinicians, and reduced costs.^8,9

Policy discussions must consider cost. The average cost of allogeneic SCT in the United States was approximately $226,000 in 2018, which is often compared to the cost of managing a patient with refractory disease who does not receive transplant.¹⁰ This study reported a cost of active disease without transplant, including chemotherapy and hospitalizations, of approximately $69,000, plus terminal care costs of nearly $89,000; at a total of $158,000, this comes out to $68,000 less than SCT.¹⁰ This cost savings, however, results in a patient’s death rather than an up to 85% chance of long-term, relapse-free survival.⁶

To more completely capture the relationship between the healthcare value and cost-effectiveness of SCT, a second study calculated the incremental cost-effectiveness ratio (ICER) of transplantation in acute leukemias in the first 100 days post transplant, including management of complications, such as hospitalization, acute graft-versus-host disease (GVHD), infection, and blood product transfusions. ICER represents the economic value of an intervention compared to an alternative, calculated as cost per quality-adjusted life years. The ICER of SCT compared to no transplant is $16,346 to $34,360, depending on type of transplant and conditioning regimen.¹¹ An ICER of less than $50,000 is considered an acceptable expense for the value achieved—in this case, a significant opportunity for cure. This finding supports SCT, including management of complications, as an economically valuable intervention. Furthermore, if a sustained remission is achieved with SCT, this difference in expense buys the individual patient potentially decades of productivity to contribute back into society and the economy. According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, undocumented workers as a whole contribute $5 trillion to the US Gross Domestic Product over a 10-year period, or about $45,000 per worker per year.¹² According to the costs cited, curing a single undocumented worker with acute leukemia via SCT and allowing them to return to work would lead to a return on investment in less than 2 years. If the goal is high-quality, high-value, equitable care, it is logical to spend the money upfront and allow all patients the best chance for recovery.

One might suggest that patients instead receive treatment in their country of origin. This proposition, however, is often unrealistic. Latin American countries, for example, lack access to many standard-of-care cancer treatments available domestically. In Mexico, SCT is only available at a single facility in Mexico City, which is unable to track outcomes.¹³ The mortality-to-incidence ratio for cancer, a marker of availability of effective treatment, for Latin America is 0.48, substantially inferior to that of the United States (0.29).¹⁴ Importantly, almost two thirds of undocumented immigrants in the United States have lived in the country for 10 or more years, and 43% are parents of minor children, an increasing proportion of whom are American citizens.¹⁵ This highlights the impracticality of these individuals returning to their country of origin for treatment.

Medicaid laws in several states have made it possible for undocumented immigrants to receive access to standard-of-care therapies. Washington and California have included provisions that enable undocumented immigrants to receive allogeneic SCT if they are otherwise medically eligible. In the course of this policy change, legal arguments from the California Court of Appeals expressed that the language of the law was not intended to deny lifesaving treatment to an individual.¹⁶ California’s Emergency Medicaid policy is comparable to that of other states, but because the courts considered SCT a “continuation of medically necessary inpatient hospital services … directly related to the emergency” for which the patient initially presented, they concluded that it could be covered under California Medicaid. Despite covering SCT for undocumented immigrants, California maintains lower costs for those patients compared to US citizens on Medicaid while providing evidence-based cancer care.¹⁷ This exemplifies sustainable and equitable healthcare policy for the rest of the nation.

A proposed change in policy could occur at either the federal or state level. One option would be to follow the example set by the State of Washington. Under Emergency Medicaid, Washington modified qualifying conditions to include “emergency room care, inpatient admission, or outpatient surgery; a cancer treatment plan; dialysis treatment; anti-rejection medication for an organ transplant” and long-term care services.¹⁸ Federal policy reform for undocumented immigrants would also improve access to care. The US Citizenship Act of 2021, introduced to the House of Representatives in February 2021, offers a path to citizenship for undocumented immigrants, ultimately allowing for undocumented individuals to be eligible for the same programs as citizens, though after a period of up to 8 years.¹⁹ More immediate revisions of qualifying conditions under state Emergency Medicaid programs, coupled with a path to citizenship, would make significant progress towards reducing structural health inequities. Such policy change would also have broader implications. Three quarters of undocumented immigrants in the United States originate from Mexico, Central America, and South America, and the incidence rate of AML for Latinx individuals is 3.6 per 100,000, a figure which can be extrapolated to an estimated 380 cases per year in the US undocumented population.^20-22 In addition to benefiting patients with acute leukemias, the proposed policy change would also benefit numerous others who are frequently hospitalized for acute decompensations of chronic conditions, including congestive heart failure, liver disease, ESKD, and chronic lung conditions. Enabling follow-up care for these diseases under Emergency Medicaid would likewise be expected to reduce costs and improve both quality of care and patient-centered and clinical outcomes.

Hospitalists frequently care for undocumented immigrants with acute leukemias because the hospital can only be reimbursed by Emergency Medicaid when a patient is admitted to the hospital. Patients may ask about what they can expect in the course of their illness and, while details may be left to the oncologist, hospitalists will be faced with responding to many of these questions. Clinicians at our institution hold honest conversations with patients like Juan. We are compelled to provide the care that hospital and state policies allow, and can only offer the best care available to them because of the restrictions of an insurance system to which they contribute financially, yet cannot benefit from, in their time of need. We can tell our undocumented immigrant patients that we find this unacceptable and are actively advocating to change this policy.

The State of Colorado and the nation must amend its healthcare policy to include comprehensive cancer care for everyone. Offering standard-of-care therapy to all patients is not only ethical, but also an economically sound policy benefiting patients, clinicians, and the workforce.

Juan, a 50-year-old man with acute myeloid leukemia (AML), sat on the edge of his bed, dejected. Juan’s leukemia had relapsed for a third time, and he was low on options and optimism. Originally from Mexico, he had made the journey to Colorado to work as a mechanic and care for his disabled son. Like millions of other individuals in the United States, he did not obtain a visa and had no affordable options for health insurance. For nearly a decade, that had seemed not to matter, until he became ill. Initially presenting to the emergency department with fatigue and night sweats, Juan was diagnosed with poor-risk AML and underwent emergent induction chemotherapy reimbursed under Emergency Medicaid (Table). Just when his bone marrow biopsy showed remission, however, Juan was told there was no chance to cure him, as his documentation status precluded him from receiving the next recommended therapy: stem cell transplant (SCT). Without transplant, Juan’s leukemia relapsed within a few months. He decided to undergo all the salvage chemotherapy that was offered, worrying about how his son would survive without his father.

For the patient with a new cancer diagnosis, a difference in immigration status may be the difference between life and death. Undocumented immigrants are excluded from federally funded benefits, including those offered under Medicare, most Medicaid programs, and the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (Table).¹ The nearly 11 million undocumented immigrants residing in the United States are integral to the workforce and economy. Although they pay taxes that fund Medicaid, contributing approximately $11.7 billion nationally in 2017, undocumented immigrants are ineligible to benefit from such programs.² The inequity of this policy is highlighted by Juan, an undocumented immigrant presenting with a new diagnosis of AML.

The Emergency Medical Treatment and Active Labor Act (EMTALA) is a 1986 federal law which mandates that patients who present to the hospital with an emergency medical condition receive appropriate evaluation and stabilizing treatment. An emergency condition is defined as “manifesting itself by acute symptoms of sufficient severity … such that the absence of immediate medical attention could reasonably be expected to result in (A) placing the patient’s health in serious jeopardy; (B) serious impairment to bodily functions; or (C) serious dysfunction of any bodily organ or part” (Table).^3,4 The Centers for Medicare & Medicaid manual restates the EMTALA definition and notes that services for an emergency medical condition cannot include care related to organ transplantation. Most state Emergency Medicaid programs have adopted the federal definition of what constitutes a medical emergency.⁵ As a result, undocumented individuals who qualify for Medicaid benefits but who do not meet citizenship requirements are eligible to “receive Medical Assistance benefits for emergency medical care only.”³

Similar to our patient Juan, individuals who initially present with an acute leukemia would be eligible for induction chemotherapy, as blast crisis is imminently fatal. Once in remission, however, standard-of-care therapy for patients without disqualifying comorbidities, depending on cytogenetic disease phenotypes, recommends the only current potential cure: allogeneic SCT, a treatment that was far from routine practice at the time EMTALA was enacted.⁶ When preparing for transplant, a patient is stable and no longer fits EMTALA’s “emergency” criteria, even though their health is still in “serious jeopardy,” as their cancer has been incompletely treated. Because most state Emergency Medicaid programs adopt the federal definition of an emergency medical condition, the cure is out of reach.

This policy requires clinicians to deviate from the usual standard of care and results in inferior outcomes. For AML patients in the poor-risk category, allogeneic SCT is recommended following induction chemotherapy.⁷ The risk of relapse is 30% to 40% if consolidation therapy includes SCT, vs 70% to 80% if treated with chemotherapeutic consolidation alone.⁶ AML patients in the intermediate-, and sometimes even favorable- risk categories, have been shown to benefit from allogeneic SCT as well, with risk of relapse half that of a patient who undergoes consolidation without transplant. Undocumented individuals with AML are therefore resigned to inadequate cancer treatment, including lifelong salvage chemotherapy, and have a substantially decreased chance of achieving sustained remission.⁶ Furthermore, providing inequitable care for undocumented patients with other medical conditions, such as end-stage kidney disease (ESKD), has been associated with inferior patient-reported outcomes, higher mortality and hospital costs, and clinician burnout. In many states, undocumented immigrants with ESKD rely on emergency dialysis (dialysis made available only after presenting critically ill to an emergency department). In 2019, Colorado’s Medicaid agency opted to include ESKD as a qualifying condition for Emergency Medicaid, thereby expanding access to scheduled dialysis. This led to improved patient quality of life, a decreased emotional toll on patients and clinicians, and reduced costs.^8,9

Policy discussions must consider cost. The average cost of allogeneic SCT in the United States was approximately $226,000 in 2018, which is often compared to the cost of managing a patient with refractory disease who does not receive transplant.¹⁰ This study reported a cost of active disease without transplant, including chemotherapy and hospitalizations, of approximately $69,000, plus terminal care costs of nearly $89,000; at a total of $158,000, this comes out to $68,000 less than SCT.¹⁰ This cost savings, however, results in a patient’s death rather than an up to 85% chance of long-term, relapse-free survival.⁶

To more completely capture the relationship between the healthcare value and cost-effectiveness of SCT, a second study calculated the incremental cost-effectiveness ratio (ICER) of transplantation in acute leukemias in the first 100 days post transplant, including management of complications, such as hospitalization, acute graft-versus-host disease (GVHD), infection, and blood product transfusions. ICER represents the economic value of an intervention compared to an alternative, calculated as cost per quality-adjusted life years. The ICER of SCT compared to no transplant is $16,346 to $34,360, depending on type of transplant and conditioning regimen.¹¹ An ICER of less than $50,000 is considered an acceptable expense for the value achieved—in this case, a significant opportunity for cure. This finding supports SCT, including management of complications, as an economically valuable intervention. Furthermore, if a sustained remission is achieved with SCT, this difference in expense buys the individual patient potentially decades of productivity to contribute back into society and the economy. According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, undocumented workers as a whole contribute $5 trillion to the US Gross Domestic Product over a 10-year period, or about $45,000 per worker per year.¹² According to the costs cited, curing a single undocumented worker with acute leukemia via SCT and allowing them to return to work would lead to a return on investment in less than 2 years. If the goal is high-quality, high-value, equitable care, it is logical to spend the money upfront and allow all patients the best chance for recovery.

One might suggest that patients instead receive treatment in their country of origin. This proposition, however, is often unrealistic. Latin American countries, for example, lack access to many standard-of-care cancer treatments available domestically. In Mexico, SCT is only available at a single facility in Mexico City, which is unable to track outcomes.¹³ The mortality-to-incidence ratio for cancer, a marker of availability of effective treatment, for Latin America is 0.48, substantially inferior to that of the United States (0.29).¹⁴ Importantly, almost two thirds of undocumented immigrants in the United States have lived in the country for 10 or more years, and 43% are parents of minor children, an increasing proportion of whom are American citizens.¹⁵ This highlights the impracticality of these individuals returning to their country of origin for treatment.

Medicaid laws in several states have made it possible for undocumented immigrants to receive access to standard-of-care therapies. Washington and California have included provisions that enable undocumented immigrants to receive allogeneic SCT if they are otherwise medically eligible. In the course of this policy change, legal arguments from the California Court of Appeals expressed that the language of the law was not intended to deny lifesaving treatment to an individual.¹⁶ California’s Emergency Medicaid policy is comparable to that of other states, but because the courts considered SCT a “continuation of medically necessary inpatient hospital services … directly related to the emergency” for which the patient initially presented, they concluded that it could be covered under California Medicaid. Despite covering SCT for undocumented immigrants, California maintains lower costs for those patients compared to US citizens on Medicaid while providing evidence-based cancer care.¹⁷ This exemplifies sustainable and equitable healthcare policy for the rest of the nation.

A proposed change in policy could occur at either the federal or state level. One option would be to follow the example set by the State of Washington. Under Emergency Medicaid, Washington modified qualifying conditions to include “emergency room care, inpatient admission, or outpatient surgery; a cancer treatment plan; dialysis treatment; anti-rejection medication for an organ transplant” and long-term care services.¹⁸ Federal policy reform for undocumented immigrants would also improve access to care. The US Citizenship Act of 2021, introduced to the House of Representatives in February 2021, offers a path to citizenship for undocumented immigrants, ultimately allowing for undocumented individuals to be eligible for the same programs as citizens, though after a period of up to 8 years.¹⁹ More immediate revisions of qualifying conditions under state Emergency Medicaid programs, coupled with a path to citizenship, would make significant progress towards reducing structural health inequities. Such policy change would also have broader implications. Three quarters of undocumented immigrants in the United States originate from Mexico, Central America, and South America, and the incidence rate of AML for Latinx individuals is 3.6 per 100,000, a figure which can be extrapolated to an estimated 380 cases per year in the US undocumented population.^20-22 In addition to benefiting patients with acute leukemias, the proposed policy change would also benefit numerous others who are frequently hospitalized for acute decompensations of chronic conditions, including congestive heart failure, liver disease, ESKD, and chronic lung conditions. Enabling follow-up care for these diseases under Emergency Medicaid would likewise be expected to reduce costs and improve both quality of care and patient-centered and clinical outcomes.

Hospitalists frequently care for undocumented immigrants with acute leukemias because the hospital can only be reimbursed by Emergency Medicaid when a patient is admitted to the hospital. Patients may ask about what they can expect in the course of their illness and, while details may be left to the oncologist, hospitalists will be faced with responding to many of these questions. Clinicians at our institution hold honest conversations with patients like Juan. We are compelled to provide the care that hospital and state policies allow, and can only offer the best care available to them because of the restrictions of an insurance system to which they contribute financially, yet cannot benefit from, in their time of need. We can tell our undocumented immigrant patients that we find this unacceptable and are actively advocating to change this policy.

The State of Colorado and the nation must amend its healthcare policy to include comprehensive cancer care for everyone. Offering standard-of-care therapy to all patients is not only ethical, but also an economically sound policy benefiting patients, clinicians, and the workforce.

Juan, a 50-year-old man with acute myeloid leukemia (AML), sat on the edge of his bed, dejected. Juan’s leukemia had relapsed for a third time, and he was low on options and optimism. Originally from Mexico, he had made the journey to Colorado to work as a mechanic and care for his disabled son. Like millions of other individuals in the United States, he did not obtain a visa and had no affordable options for health insurance. For nearly a decade, that had seemed not to matter, until he became ill. Initially presenting to the emergency department with fatigue and night sweats, Juan was diagnosed with poor-risk AML and underwent emergent induction chemotherapy reimbursed under Emergency Medicaid (Table). Just when his bone marrow biopsy showed remission, however, Juan was told there was no chance to cure him, as his documentation status precluded him from receiving the next recommended therapy: stem cell transplant (SCT). Without transplant, Juan’s leukemia relapsed within a few months. He decided to undergo all the salvage chemotherapy that was offered, worrying about how his son would survive without his father.

For the patient with a new cancer diagnosis, a difference in immigration status may be the difference between life and death. Undocumented immigrants are excluded from federally funded benefits, including those offered under Medicare, most Medicaid programs, and the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (Table).¹ The nearly 11 million undocumented immigrants residing in the United States are integral to the workforce and economy. Although they pay taxes that fund Medicaid, contributing approximately $11.7 billion nationally in 2017, undocumented immigrants are ineligible to benefit from such programs.² The inequity of this policy is highlighted by Juan, an undocumented immigrant presenting with a new diagnosis of AML.

The Emergency Medical Treatment and Active Labor Act (EMTALA) is a 1986 federal law which mandates that patients who present to the hospital with an emergency medical condition receive appropriate evaluation and stabilizing treatment. An emergency condition is defined as “manifesting itself by acute symptoms of sufficient severity … such that the absence of immediate medical attention could reasonably be expected to result in (A) placing the patient’s health in serious jeopardy; (B) serious impairment to bodily functions; or (C) serious dysfunction of any bodily organ or part” (Table).^3,4 The Centers for Medicare & Medicaid manual restates the EMTALA definition and notes that services for an emergency medical condition cannot include care related to organ transplantation. Most state Emergency Medicaid programs have adopted the federal definition of what constitutes a medical emergency.⁵ As a result, undocumented individuals who qualify for Medicaid benefits but who do not meet citizenship requirements are eligible to “receive Medical Assistance benefits for emergency medical care only.”³

Similar to our patient Juan, individuals who initially present with an acute leukemia would be eligible for induction chemotherapy, as blast crisis is imminently fatal. Once in remission, however, standard-of-care therapy for patients without disqualifying comorbidities, depending on cytogenetic disease phenotypes, recommends the only current potential cure: allogeneic SCT, a treatment that was far from routine practice at the time EMTALA was enacted.⁶ When preparing for transplant, a patient is stable and no longer fits EMTALA’s “emergency” criteria, even though their health is still in “serious jeopardy,” as their cancer has been incompletely treated. Because most state Emergency Medicaid programs adopt the federal definition of an emergency medical condition, the cure is out of reach.

This policy requires clinicians to deviate from the usual standard of care and results in inferior outcomes. For AML patients in the poor-risk category, allogeneic SCT is recommended following induction chemotherapy.⁷ The risk of relapse is 30% to 40% if consolidation therapy includes SCT, vs 70% to 80% if treated with chemotherapeutic consolidation alone.⁶ AML patients in the intermediate-, and sometimes even favorable- risk categories, have been shown to benefit from allogeneic SCT as well, with risk of relapse half that of a patient who undergoes consolidation without transplant. Undocumented individuals with AML are therefore resigned to inadequate cancer treatment, including lifelong salvage chemotherapy, and have a substantially decreased chance of achieving sustained remission.⁶ Furthermore, providing inequitable care for undocumented patients with other medical conditions, such as end-stage kidney disease (ESKD), has been associated with inferior patient-reported outcomes, higher mortality and hospital costs, and clinician burnout. In many states, undocumented immigrants with ESKD rely on emergency dialysis (dialysis made available only after presenting critically ill to an emergency department). In 2019, Colorado’s Medicaid agency opted to include ESKD as a qualifying condition for Emergency Medicaid, thereby expanding access to scheduled dialysis. This led to improved patient quality of life, a decreased emotional toll on patients and clinicians, and reduced costs.^8,9

Policy discussions must consider cost. The average cost of allogeneic SCT in the United States was approximately $226,000 in 2018, which is often compared to the cost of managing a patient with refractory disease who does not receive transplant.¹⁰ This study reported a cost of active disease without transplant, including chemotherapy and hospitalizations, of approximately $69,000, plus terminal care costs of nearly $89,000; at a total of $158,000, this comes out to $68,000 less than SCT.¹⁰ This cost savings, however, results in a patient’s death rather than an up to 85% chance of long-term, relapse-free survival.⁶

To more completely capture the relationship between the healthcare value and cost-effectiveness of SCT, a second study calculated the incremental cost-effectiveness ratio (ICER) of transplantation in acute leukemias in the first 100 days post transplant, including management of complications, such as hospitalization, acute graft-versus-host disease (GVHD), infection, and blood product transfusions. ICER represents the economic value of an intervention compared to an alternative, calculated as cost per quality-adjusted life years. The ICER of SCT compared to no transplant is $16,346 to $34,360, depending on type of transplant and conditioning regimen.¹¹ An ICER of less than $50,000 is considered an acceptable expense for the value achieved—in this case, a significant opportunity for cure. This finding supports SCT, including management of complications, as an economically valuable intervention. Furthermore, if a sustained remission is achieved with SCT, this difference in expense buys the individual patient potentially decades of productivity to contribute back into society and the economy. According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, undocumented workers as a whole contribute $5 trillion to the US Gross Domestic Product over a 10-year period, or about $45,000 per worker per year.¹² According to the costs cited, curing a single undocumented worker with acute leukemia via SCT and allowing them to return to work would lead to a return on investment in less than 2 years. If the goal is high-quality, high-value, equitable care, it is logical to spend the money upfront and allow all patients the best chance for recovery.

One might suggest that patients instead receive treatment in their country of origin. This proposition, however, is often unrealistic. Latin American countries, for example, lack access to many standard-of-care cancer treatments available domestically. In Mexico, SCT is only available at a single facility in Mexico City, which is unable to track outcomes.¹³ The mortality-to-incidence ratio for cancer, a marker of availability of effective treatment, for Latin America is 0.48, substantially inferior to that of the United States (0.29).¹⁴ Importantly, almost two thirds of undocumented immigrants in the United States have lived in the country for 10 or more years, and 43% are parents of minor children, an increasing proportion of whom are American citizens.¹⁵ This highlights the impracticality of these individuals returning to their country of origin for treatment.

Medicaid laws in several states have made it possible for undocumented immigrants to receive access to standard-of-care therapies. Washington and California have included provisions that enable undocumented immigrants to receive allogeneic SCT if they are otherwise medically eligible. In the course of this policy change, legal arguments from the California Court of Appeals expressed that the language of the law was not intended to deny lifesaving treatment to an individual.¹⁶ California’s Emergency Medicaid policy is comparable to that of other states, but because the courts considered SCT a “continuation of medically necessary inpatient hospital services … directly related to the emergency” for which the patient initially presented, they concluded that it could be covered under California Medicaid. Despite covering SCT for undocumented immigrants, California maintains lower costs for those patients compared to US citizens on Medicaid while providing evidence-based cancer care.¹⁷ This exemplifies sustainable and equitable healthcare policy for the rest of the nation.

A proposed change in policy could occur at either the federal or state level. One option would be to follow the example set by the State of Washington. Under Emergency Medicaid, Washington modified qualifying conditions to include “emergency room care, inpatient admission, or outpatient surgery; a cancer treatment plan; dialysis treatment; anti-rejection medication for an organ transplant” and long-term care services.¹⁸ Federal policy reform for undocumented immigrants would also improve access to care. The US Citizenship Act of 2021, introduced to the House of Representatives in February 2021, offers a path to citizenship for undocumented immigrants, ultimately allowing for undocumented individuals to be eligible for the same programs as citizens, though after a period of up to 8 years.¹⁹ More immediate revisions of qualifying conditions under state Emergency Medicaid programs, coupled with a path to citizenship, would make significant progress towards reducing structural health inequities. Such policy change would also have broader implications. Three quarters of undocumented immigrants in the United States originate from Mexico, Central America, and South America, and the incidence rate of AML for Latinx individuals is 3.6 per 100,000, a figure which can be extrapolated to an estimated 380 cases per year in the US undocumented population.^20-22 In addition to benefiting patients with acute leukemias, the proposed policy change would also benefit numerous others who are frequently hospitalized for acute decompensations of chronic conditions, including congestive heart failure, liver disease, ESKD, and chronic lung conditions. Enabling follow-up care for these diseases under Emergency Medicaid would likewise be expected to reduce costs and improve both quality of care and patient-centered and clinical outcomes.

Hospitalists frequently care for undocumented immigrants with acute leukemias because the hospital can only be reimbursed by Emergency Medicaid when a patient is admitted to the hospital. Patients may ask about what they can expect in the course of their illness and, while details may be left to the oncologist, hospitalists will be faced with responding to many of these questions. Clinicians at our institution hold honest conversations with patients like Juan. We are compelled to provide the care that hospital and state policies allow, and can only offer the best care available to them because of the restrictions of an insurance system to which they contribute financially, yet cannot benefit from, in their time of need. We can tell our undocumented immigrant patients that we find this unacceptable and are actively advocating to change this policy.

The State of Colorado and the nation must amend its healthcare policy to include comprehensive cancer care for everyone. Offering standard-of-care therapy to all patients is not only ethical, but also an economically sound policy benefiting patients, clinicians, and the workforce.

Studies continue to demonstrate persistent gaps in equity for women and underrepresented minorities (URMs)¹ throughout nearly all aspects of academic medicine, including rank,^2-4 tenure,⁵ authorship,^6,7 funding opportunities,^8,9 awards,¹⁰ speakership,¹¹ leadership,^12,13 and salaries.^2,14,15 Hospital medicine, despite being a newer field,¹⁶ has also seen these disparities^17,18; however, there are numerous efforts in place to actively change our specialty’s course.^19-22 Hospital medicine is a field known for being a change agent in healthcare delivery,²² and its novel approaches are well poised to fundamentally shatter the glass ceilings imposed on traditionally underrepresented groups in medicine. The importance of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives in healthcare has never been clearer,^23,24 particularly as they relate to cultural competence^25-28 and cultural humility,^29,30 implicit and explicit bias,²⁷ expanding care for underserved patient populations, supporting our workforce, and broadening research agendas.²⁸

In this article, we report DEI efforts within our division, focusing on the development of our strategic plan and specific outcomes related to compensation, recruitment, and policies.

Our Division’s Framework to DEI—“It Takes a Village”

Our Division of Hospital Medicine (DHM), previously within the Division of General Internal Medicine, was founded in October 2017. The DHM at the University of Colorado Hospital (UCH) is composed of 100 faculty members (70 physicians and 30 advanced-practice providers; 58% women and 42% men). In 2018, we implemented a stepwise approach to critically assess DEI within our group and to build a strategic plan to address the issues. Key areas of focus included institutional structures, our people, our environments, and our core missions (Figure 1 and Appendix Figure 1). DHM members helped drive our work and partnered with departmental, hospital, and school of medicine committees; national organizations; and collaborators to enhance implementation and dissemination efforts. In addition to stakeholder engagement, we utilized strategic planning and rapid Plan-Do-Study-Act (PDSA) cycles to advance DEI work in our DHM.

Needs Assessment

As a new division, we sought stakeholder feedback from division members. All faculty within the division were invited to attend a meeting in which issues related to DEI were discussed. A literature review that spanned both medical and nonmedical fields was also completed. Search terms included salary equity, gender equity, diverse teams, diversity recruitment and retention, diversifying leadership, and diverse speakers. Salaries, internally funded time, and other processes, such as recruitment, promotion, and hiring for leadership positions, were evaluated during the first year we became a division.

Interventions

TThrough this work, and with stakeholder engagement, we developed a divisional strategic plan to address DEI globally. Our strategic plan included developing a DEI director role to assist with overseeing DEI efforts. We have highlighted the various methods utilized for each component (Figure 1). This work occurred from October 2017 to December 2018.

Our institutional structures

Using best practices from both medical and nonmedical fields, we developed evidence-based approaches to compensation,³¹ recruitment,³² and policies that support and foster a culture of DEI.³² These strategies were used to support the following initiatives:

Compensation: transparent and consistent approaches based upon benchmarking with a framework of equal pay for equal work and similar advanced training/academic rank. In conjunction with efforts within the School of Medicine (SOM), Department of Medicine (DOM), and the UCH, our division sought to study salaries across DHM faculty members. We had an open call for faculty to participate in a newly developed DHM Compensation Committee, with the intent of rigorously examining our compensation practices and goals. Through faculty feedback and committee work, salary equity was defined as equal pay (ie, base salary for one clinical full-time equivalent [FTE]) for equal work based on academic rank and/or years of practice/advanced training. We also compared DHM salaries to regional academic hospital medicine groups and concluded that DHM salaries were lower than local and national benchmarks. This information was used to create a two-phase approach to increasing salaries for all individuals below the American Association of Medical Colleges (AAMC) benchmarks³³ for academic hospitalists. We also developed a stipend system for external roles that came with additional compensation and roles within our own division that came with additional pay (ie, nocturnist). Phase 1 focused on those whose salaries were furthest away from and below benchmark, and phase 2 targeted all remaining individuals below benchmark.

A similar review of FTEs (based on required number of shifts for a full-time hospitalist) tied to our internal DHM leadership positions was completed by the division head and director of DEI. Specifically, the mission for each of our internally funded roles, job descriptions, and responsibilities was reviewed to ensure equity in funding.

Recruitment and advancement: processes to ensure equity and diversity in recruitment, tracking, and reporting, working to eliminate/mitigate bias. In collaboration with members of the AAMC Group on Women in Medicine and Science (GWIMS) and coauthors from various institutions, we developed toolkits and checklists aimed at achieving equity and diversity within candidate pools and on major committees, including, but not limited to, search and promotion committees.³² Additionally, a checklist was developed to help recruit more diverse speakers, including women and URMs, for local, regional, and national conferences.

Policies: evidence-based approaches, tracking and reporting, standardized approaches to eliminate/mitigate bias, embracing nontraditional paths. In partnership with our departmental efforts, members of our team led data collection and reporting for salary benchmarking, leadership roles, and committee membership. This included developing surveys and reporting templates that can be used to identify disparities and inform future efforts. We worked to ensure that we have faculty representing our field at the department and SOM levels. Specifically, we made sure to nominate division members during open calls for departmental and schoolwide committees, including the promotions committee.

Our People

The faculty and staff within our division have been instrumental in moving efforts forward in the following important areas.

Leadership: develop the position of director of DEI as well as leadership structures to support and increase DEI. One of the first steps in our strategic plan was creating a director of DEI leadership role (Appendix Figure 2). The director is responsible for researching, applying, and promoting a broad scope of DEI initiatives and best practices within the DHM, DOM, and SOM (in collaboration with their leaders), including recruitment, retention, and promotion of medical students, residents, and faculty; educational program development; health disparities research; and community-engaged scholarship.

Support: develop family leave policies/develop flexible work policies. Several members of our division worked on departmental committees and served in leadership roles on staff and faculty council. Estimated costs were assessed. Through collective efforts of department leadership and division head support, the department approved parental leave to employees following the birth of an employee’s child or the placement of a child with an employee in connection with adoption or permanent foster care.

Mentorship/sponsorship: enhance faculty advancement programs/develop pipeline and trainings/collaborate with student groups and organizations/invest in all of our people. Faculty across our divisional sites have held important roles in developing pipeline programs for undergraduate students bound for health professions, as well as programs developed specifically for medical students and internal medicine residents. This includes two programs, the CU Hospitalist Scholars Program (CUHSP) and Leadership Education for Aspiring Doctors (LEAD), in which undergraduate students have the opportunity to round with hospital medicine teams, work on quality-improvement projects, and receive extensive mentorship and advising from a diverse faculty team. Additionally, our faculty advancement team within the DHM has grown and been restructured to include more defined goals and to ensure each faculty member has at least one mentor in their area of interest.

Supportive: lactation space and support/diverse space options/inclusive and diverse environments. We worked closely with hospital leadership to advocate for adequately equipped lactation spaces, including equipment such as pumps, refrigerators, and computer workstations. Additionally, our team members conducted environmental scans (eg, identified pictures, artwork, or other images that were not representative of a diverse and inclusive environment and raised concerns when the environment was not inclusive).

Measures

Our measures focused on (1) development and implementation of our DEI strategic plan, including new policies, processes, and practices related to key components of the DEI program; and (2) assessment of specific DEI programs, including pre-post salary data disparities based on rank and pre-post disparities for protected time for similar roles.

Analysis

Through rapid PDSA cycles, we evaluated salary equity, equity in leadership allotment, and committee membership. We have developed a tracking board to track progress of the multiple projects in the strategic plan.

Strategic Plan Development and Tracking

From October 2017 to December 2018, we developed a robust strategic plan and stepwise approach to DEI (Figure 1 and Figure 2). The director of DEI position was developed (see Appendix Figure 2 for job description) to help oversee these efforts. Figure 3 highlights the specific efforts and the progress made on implementation (ie, high-level dashboard or “tracking board”). While outcomes are still pending in the areas of recruitment and advancement and environment, we have made measurable improvements in compensation, as outlined in the following section.

Compensation

One year after the salary-equity interventions, all of our physician faculty’s salaries were at the goal benchmark (Table), and differences in salary for those in similar years of rank were nearly eliminated. Similarly, after implementing an internally consistent approach to assigning FTE for new and established positions within the division (ie, those that fall within the purview of the division), all faculty in similar types of roles had similar amounts of protected time.

Recruitment and Advancement

Toolkits³² and committee recommendations have been incorporated into division goals, though some aspects are still in implementation phases, as division-wide implicit bias training was delayed secondary to the COVID-19 pandemic. Key goals include: (1) implicit bias training for all members of major committees; (2) aiming for a goal of at least 40% representation of women and 40% URMs on committees; (3) having a diversity expert serve on each committee in order to identify and discuss any potential bias in the search and candidate-selection processes; and (4) careful tracking of diversity metrics in regard to diversity of candidates at each step of the interview and selection process.

Surveys and reporting templates for equity on committees and leadership positions have been developed and deployed. Data dashboards for our division have been developed as well (for compensation, leadership, and committee membership). A divisional dashboard to report recruitment efforts is in progress.

We have successfully nominated several faculty members to the SOM promotions committee and departmental committees during open calls for these positions. At the division level, we have also adapted internal policies to ensure promotion occurs on time and offers alternative pathways for faculty that may primarily focus on clinical pathways. All faculty who have gone up for promotion thus far have been successfully promoted in their desired pathway.

Environment

We successfully advocated and achieved adequately equipped lactation spaces, including equipment such as pumps, refrigerators, and computer workstations. This achievement was possible because of our hospital partners. Our efforts helped us acquire sufficient space and facilities such that nursing mothers can pump and still be able to answer phones, enter orders, and document visits.

Our team members conducted environmental scans and raised concerns when the environment was not inclusive, such as conference rooms with portraits of leadership that do not show diversity. The all-male pictures were removed from one frequently used departmental conference room, which will eventually house a diverse group of pictures and achievements.

We aim to eliminate bias by offering implicit bias training for our faculty. While this is presently required for those who serve on committees, in leadership positions, or those involved in recruitment and interviewing for the DOM, our goal is to eventually provide this training to all faculty and staff in the division. We have also incorporated DEI topics into our educational conferences for faculty, including sessions on recognizing bias in medicine, how to be an upstander/ally, and the impact of race and racism on medicine.

DISCUSSION

The important findings of this work are: (1) that successes in DEI can be achieved with strategic planning and stakeholder engagement; (2) through simple modification of processes, we can improve equity in compensation and FTE allotted to leadership; (3) though it takes time, diversity recruitment can be improved using sound, sustainable, evidence-based processes; (4) this work is time-intensive and challenging, requiring ongoing efforts to improve, modify, and enhance current efforts and future successes.

We have certainly made some progress with DEI initiatives within our division and have also learned a great deal from this experience. First, change is difficult for all parties involved, including those leading change and those affected by the changes. We purposely made an effort to facilitate discussions with all of the DHM faculty and staff to ensure that everyone felt included in this work and that everyone’s voice was heard. This was exemplified by inviting all faculty members to a feedback session in which we discussed DEI within our division and areas that we wanted to improve on. Early on, we were able to define what diversity, equity, and inclusion meant to us as a division and then use these definitions to develop tangible goals for all the areas of highest importance to the group.

By increasing faculty presence on key committees, such as the promotions committee, we now have faculty members who are well versed in promotions processes. We are fortunate to have a promotions process that supports faculty advancement for faculty with diverse interests that spans from supporting highly clinical faculty, clinician educators, as well as more traditional researchers.³⁴ By having hospitalists serve in these roles, we help to add to the diverse perspectives on these committees, including emphasizing the scholarship that is associated with quality improvement, as well as DEI efforts which can often be viewed as service as opposed to scholarship.

Clear communication and transparency were key to all of our DEI initiatives. We had monthly updates on our DEI efforts during business meetings and also held impromptu meetings (also known as flash mobs³⁵) to answer questions and discuss concerns in real time. As with all DEI work, it is important to know where you are starting (having accurate data and a clear understanding of the data) and be able to communicate that data to the group. For example, using AAMC salary benchmarking³³ as well as other benchmarks allowed us to accurately calculate variance among salaries and identify the appropriate goal salary for each of our faculty members. Likewise, by completing an in-depth inventory on the work being done by all of our faculty in leadership roles, we were able to standardize the compensation/FTE for each of these roles. Tracking these changes over time, via the use of dashboards in our case, allows for real-time measurements and accountability for all of those involved. Our end goal will be to have all of these initiatives feed into one large dashboard.

Collaborating with leadership and stakeholders in the DOM, SOM, and hospital helped to make our DEI initiatives successful. Much too often, we work in silos when it comes to DEI work. However, we tend to have similar goals and can achieve much more if we work together. Collaboration with multiple stakeholders allowed for wider dissemination and resulted in a larger impact to the campus and community at large. This has been exemplified by the committee composition guidance that has been utilized by the DOM, as well as implementation of campus-wide policies, specifically the parental leave policy, which our faculty members played an important role in creating. Likewise, it is important to look outside of our institutions and work with other hospital medicine groups around the country who are interested in promoting DEI.

We still have much work ahead of us. We are continuing to measure outcomes status postimplementation of the toolkit and checklists being used for diversity recruitment and committee composition. Additionally, we are actively working on several initiatives, including:

• Instituting implicit bias training for all of our faculty
• Partnering with national leaders and our hospital systems to develop zero-tolerance policies regarding abusive behaviors (verbal, physical, and other), racism, and sexism in the hospital and other work settings
• Development of specific recruitment strategies as a means of diversifying our healthcare workforce (of note, based on a 2020 survey of our faculty, in which there was a 70% response rate, 8.5% of our faculty identified as URMs)
• Completion of a diversity dashboard to track our progress in all of these efforts over time
• Development of a more robust pipeline to promotion and leadership for our URM faculty

This study has several strengths. Many of the plans and strategies described here can be used to guide others interested in implementing this work. Figure 2 provides a stepwise
approach to addressing DEI in hospital medicine groups and divisions. We conducted this work at a large academic medical center, and while it may not be generalizable, it does offer some ideas for others to consider in their own work to advance DEI at their institutions. There are also several limitations to this work. Eliminating salary inequities with our approach did take resources. We took advantage of already lower salaries and the need to increase salaries closer to benchmark and paired this effort with our DEI efforts to achieve salary equity. This required partnerships with the department and hospital. Efforts to advance DEI also take a lot of time and effort, and thus commitment from the division, department, and institution as a whole is key. While we have outcomes for our efforts related to salary equity, recruitment efforts should be realized over time, as currently it is too early to tell. We have highlighted the efforts that have been put in place at this time.

Using a systematic evidence-based approach with key stakeholder involvement, a division-wide DEI strategy was developed and implemented. While this work is still ongoing, short-term wins are possible, in particular around salary equity and development of policies and structures to promote DEI.

Studies continue to demonstrate persistent gaps in equity for women and underrepresented minorities (URMs)¹ throughout nearly all aspects of academic medicine, including rank,^2-4 tenure,⁵ authorship,^6,7 funding opportunities,^8,9 awards,¹⁰ speakership,¹¹ leadership,^12,13 and salaries.^2,14,15 Hospital medicine, despite being a newer field,¹⁶ has also seen these disparities^17,18; however, there are numerous efforts in place to actively change our specialty’s course.^19-22 Hospital medicine is a field known for being a change agent in healthcare delivery,²² and its novel approaches are well poised to fundamentally shatter the glass ceilings imposed on traditionally underrepresented groups in medicine. The importance of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives in healthcare has never been clearer,^23,24 particularly as they relate to cultural competence^25-28 and cultural humility,^29,30 implicit and explicit bias,²⁷ expanding care for underserved patient populations, supporting our workforce, and broadening research agendas.²⁸

In this article, we report DEI efforts within our division, focusing on the development of our strategic plan and specific outcomes related to compensation, recruitment, and policies.

Our Division’s Framework to DEI—“It Takes a Village”

Our Division of Hospital Medicine (DHM), previously within the Division of General Internal Medicine, was founded in October 2017. The DHM at the University of Colorado Hospital (UCH) is composed of 100 faculty members (70 physicians and 30 advanced-practice providers; 58% women and 42% men). In 2018, we implemented a stepwise approach to critically assess DEI within our group and to build a strategic plan to address the issues. Key areas of focus included institutional structures, our people, our environments, and our core missions (Figure 1 and Appendix Figure 1). DHM members helped drive our work and partnered with departmental, hospital, and school of medicine committees; national organizations; and collaborators to enhance implementation and dissemination efforts. In addition to stakeholder engagement, we utilized strategic planning and rapid Plan-Do-Study-Act (PDSA) cycles to advance DEI work in our DHM.

Needs Assessment

As a new division, we sought stakeholder feedback from division members. All faculty within the division were invited to attend a meeting in which issues related to DEI were discussed. A literature review that spanned both medical and nonmedical fields was also completed. Search terms included salary equity, gender equity, diverse teams, diversity recruitment and retention, diversifying leadership, and diverse speakers. Salaries, internally funded time, and other processes, such as recruitment, promotion, and hiring for leadership positions, were evaluated during the first year we became a division.

Interventions

TThrough this work, and with stakeholder engagement, we developed a divisional strategic plan to address DEI globally. Our strategic plan included developing a DEI director role to assist with overseeing DEI efforts. We have highlighted the various methods utilized for each component (Figure 1). This work occurred from October 2017 to December 2018.

Our institutional structures

Using best practices from both medical and nonmedical fields, we developed evidence-based approaches to compensation,³¹ recruitment,³² and policies that support and foster a culture of DEI.³² These strategies were used to support the following initiatives:

Compensation: transparent and consistent approaches based upon benchmarking with a framework of equal pay for equal work and similar advanced training/academic rank. In conjunction with efforts within the School of Medicine (SOM), Department of Medicine (DOM), and the UCH, our division sought to study salaries across DHM faculty members. We had an open call for faculty to participate in a newly developed DHM Compensation Committee, with the intent of rigorously examining our compensation practices and goals. Through faculty feedback and committee work, salary equity was defined as equal pay (ie, base salary for one clinical full-time equivalent [FTE]) for equal work based on academic rank and/or years of practice/advanced training. We also compared DHM salaries to regional academic hospital medicine groups and concluded that DHM salaries were lower than local and national benchmarks. This information was used to create a two-phase approach to increasing salaries for all individuals below the American Association of Medical Colleges (AAMC) benchmarks³³ for academic hospitalists. We also developed a stipend system for external roles that came with additional compensation and roles within our own division that came with additional pay (ie, nocturnist). Phase 1 focused on those whose salaries were furthest away from and below benchmark, and phase 2 targeted all remaining individuals below benchmark.

A similar review of FTEs (based on required number of shifts for a full-time hospitalist) tied to our internal DHM leadership positions was completed by the division head and director of DEI. Specifically, the mission for each of our internally funded roles, job descriptions, and responsibilities was reviewed to ensure equity in funding.

Recruitment and advancement: processes to ensure equity and diversity in recruitment, tracking, and reporting, working to eliminate/mitigate bias. In collaboration with members of the AAMC Group on Women in Medicine and Science (GWIMS) and coauthors from various institutions, we developed toolkits and checklists aimed at achieving equity and diversity within candidate pools and on major committees, including, but not limited to, search and promotion committees.³² Additionally, a checklist was developed to help recruit more diverse speakers, including women and URMs, for local, regional, and national conferences.

Policies: evidence-based approaches, tracking and reporting, standardized approaches to eliminate/mitigate bias, embracing nontraditional paths. In partnership with our departmental efforts, members of our team led data collection and reporting for salary benchmarking, leadership roles, and committee membership. This included developing surveys and reporting templates that can be used to identify disparities and inform future efforts. We worked to ensure that we have faculty representing our field at the department and SOM levels. Specifically, we made sure to nominate division members during open calls for departmental and schoolwide committees, including the promotions committee.

Our People

The faculty and staff within our division have been instrumental in moving efforts forward in the following important areas.

Leadership: develop the position of director of DEI as well as leadership structures to support and increase DEI. One of the first steps in our strategic plan was creating a director of DEI leadership role (Appendix Figure 2). The director is responsible for researching, applying, and promoting a broad scope of DEI initiatives and best practices within the DHM, DOM, and SOM (in collaboration with their leaders), including recruitment, retention, and promotion of medical students, residents, and faculty; educational program development; health disparities research; and community-engaged scholarship.

Support: develop family leave policies/develop flexible work policies. Several members of our division worked on departmental committees and served in leadership roles on staff and faculty council. Estimated costs were assessed. Through collective efforts of department leadership and division head support, the department approved parental leave to employees following the birth of an employee’s child or the placement of a child with an employee in connection with adoption or permanent foster care.

Mentorship/sponsorship: enhance faculty advancement programs/develop pipeline and trainings/collaborate with student groups and organizations/invest in all of our people. Faculty across our divisional sites have held important roles in developing pipeline programs for undergraduate students bound for health professions, as well as programs developed specifically for medical students and internal medicine residents. This includes two programs, the CU Hospitalist Scholars Program (CUHSP) and Leadership Education for Aspiring Doctors (LEAD), in which undergraduate students have the opportunity to round with hospital medicine teams, work on quality-improvement projects, and receive extensive mentorship and advising from a diverse faculty team. Additionally, our faculty advancement team within the DHM has grown and been restructured to include more defined goals and to ensure each faculty member has at least one mentor in their area of interest.

Supportive: lactation space and support/diverse space options/inclusive and diverse environments. We worked closely with hospital leadership to advocate for adequately equipped lactation spaces, including equipment such as pumps, refrigerators, and computer workstations. Additionally, our team members conducted environmental scans (eg, identified pictures, artwork, or other images that were not representative of a diverse and inclusive environment and raised concerns when the environment was not inclusive).

Measures

Our measures focused on (1) development and implementation of our DEI strategic plan, including new policies, processes, and practices related to key components of the DEI program; and (2) assessment of specific DEI programs, including pre-post salary data disparities based on rank and pre-post disparities for protected time for similar roles.

Analysis

Through rapid PDSA cycles, we evaluated salary equity, equity in leadership allotment, and committee membership. We have developed a tracking board to track progress of the multiple projects in the strategic plan.

Strategic Plan Development and Tracking

From October 2017 to December 2018, we developed a robust strategic plan and stepwise approach to DEI (Figure 1 and Figure 2). The director of DEI position was developed (see Appendix Figure 2 for job description) to help oversee these efforts. Figure 3 highlights the specific efforts and the progress made on implementation (ie, high-level dashboard or “tracking board”). While outcomes are still pending in the areas of recruitment and advancement and environment, we have made measurable improvements in compensation, as outlined in the following section.

Compensation

One year after the salary-equity interventions, all of our physician faculty’s salaries were at the goal benchmark (Table), and differences in salary for those in similar years of rank were nearly eliminated. Similarly, after implementing an internally consistent approach to assigning FTE for new and established positions within the division (ie, those that fall within the purview of the division), all faculty in similar types of roles had similar amounts of protected time.

Recruitment and Advancement

Toolkits³² and committee recommendations have been incorporated into division goals, though some aspects are still in implementation phases, as division-wide implicit bias training was delayed secondary to the COVID-19 pandemic. Key goals include: (1) implicit bias training for all members of major committees; (2) aiming for a goal of at least 40% representation of women and 40% URMs on committees; (3) having a diversity expert serve on each committee in order to identify and discuss any potential bias in the search and candidate-selection processes; and (4) careful tracking of diversity metrics in regard to diversity of candidates at each step of the interview and selection process.

Surveys and reporting templates for equity on committees and leadership positions have been developed and deployed. Data dashboards for our division have been developed as well (for compensation, leadership, and committee membership). A divisional dashboard to report recruitment efforts is in progress.

We have successfully nominated several faculty members to the SOM promotions committee and departmental committees during open calls for these positions. At the division level, we have also adapted internal policies to ensure promotion occurs on time and offers alternative pathways for faculty that may primarily focus on clinical pathways. All faculty who have gone up for promotion thus far have been successfully promoted in their desired pathway.

Environment

We successfully advocated and achieved adequately equipped lactation spaces, including equipment such as pumps, refrigerators, and computer workstations. This achievement was possible because of our hospital partners. Our efforts helped us acquire sufficient space and facilities such that nursing mothers can pump and still be able to answer phones, enter orders, and document visits.

Our team members conducted environmental scans and raised concerns when the environment was not inclusive, such as conference rooms with portraits of leadership that do not show diversity. The all-male pictures were removed from one frequently used departmental conference room, which will eventually house a diverse group of pictures and achievements.

We aim to eliminate bias by offering implicit bias training for our faculty. While this is presently required for those who serve on committees, in leadership positions, or those involved in recruitment and interviewing for the DOM, our goal is to eventually provide this training to all faculty and staff in the division. We have also incorporated DEI topics into our educational conferences for faculty, including sessions on recognizing bias in medicine, how to be an upstander/ally, and the impact of race and racism on medicine.

DISCUSSION

The important findings of this work are: (1) that successes in DEI can be achieved with strategic planning and stakeholder engagement; (2) through simple modification of processes, we can improve equity in compensation and FTE allotted to leadership; (3) though it takes time, diversity recruitment can be improved using sound, sustainable, evidence-based processes; (4) this work is time-intensive and challenging, requiring ongoing efforts to improve, modify, and enhance current efforts and future successes.

We have certainly made some progress with DEI initiatives within our division and have also learned a great deal from this experience. First, change is difficult for all parties involved, including those leading change and those affected by the changes. We purposely made an effort to facilitate discussions with all of the DHM faculty and staff to ensure that everyone felt included in this work and that everyone’s voice was heard. This was exemplified by inviting all faculty members to a feedback session in which we discussed DEI within our division and areas that we wanted to improve on. Early on, we were able to define what diversity, equity, and inclusion meant to us as a division and then use these definitions to develop tangible goals for all the areas of highest importance to the group.

By increasing faculty presence on key committees, such as the promotions committee, we now have faculty members who are well versed in promotions processes. We are fortunate to have a promotions process that supports faculty advancement for faculty with diverse interests that spans from supporting highly clinical faculty, clinician educators, as well as more traditional researchers.³⁴ By having hospitalists serve in these roles, we help to add to the diverse perspectives on these committees, including emphasizing the scholarship that is associated with quality improvement, as well as DEI efforts which can often be viewed as service as opposed to scholarship.

Clear communication and transparency were key to all of our DEI initiatives. We had monthly updates on our DEI efforts during business meetings and also held impromptu meetings (also known as flash mobs³⁵) to answer questions and discuss concerns in real time. As with all DEI work, it is important to know where you are starting (having accurate data and a clear understanding of the data) and be able to communicate that data to the group. For example, using AAMC salary benchmarking³³ as well as other benchmarks allowed us to accurately calculate variance among salaries and identify the appropriate goal salary for each of our faculty members. Likewise, by completing an in-depth inventory on the work being done by all of our faculty in leadership roles, we were able to standardize the compensation/FTE for each of these roles. Tracking these changes over time, via the use of dashboards in our case, allows for real-time measurements and accountability for all of those involved. Our end goal will be to have all of these initiatives feed into one large dashboard.

Collaborating with leadership and stakeholders in the DOM, SOM, and hospital helped to make our DEI initiatives successful. Much too often, we work in silos when it comes to DEI work. However, we tend to have similar goals and can achieve much more if we work together. Collaboration with multiple stakeholders allowed for wider dissemination and resulted in a larger impact to the campus and community at large. This has been exemplified by the committee composition guidance that has been utilized by the DOM, as well as implementation of campus-wide policies, specifically the parental leave policy, which our faculty members played an important role in creating. Likewise, it is important to look outside of our institutions and work with other hospital medicine groups around the country who are interested in promoting DEI.

We still have much work ahead of us. We are continuing to measure outcomes status postimplementation of the toolkit and checklists being used for diversity recruitment and committee composition. Additionally, we are actively working on several initiatives, including:

• Instituting implicit bias training for all of our faculty
• Partnering with national leaders and our hospital systems to develop zero-tolerance policies regarding abusive behaviors (verbal, physical, and other), racism, and sexism in the hospital and other work settings
• Development of specific recruitment strategies as a means of diversifying our healthcare workforce (of note, based on a 2020 survey of our faculty, in which there was a 70% response rate, 8.5% of our faculty identified as URMs)
• Completion of a diversity dashboard to track our progress in all of these efforts over time
• Development of a more robust pipeline to promotion and leadership for our URM faculty

This study has several strengths. Many of the plans and strategies described here can be used to guide others interested in implementing this work. Figure 2 provides a stepwise
approach to addressing DEI in hospital medicine groups and divisions. We conducted this work at a large academic medical center, and while it may not be generalizable, it does offer some ideas for others to consider in their own work to advance DEI at their institutions. There are also several limitations to this work. Eliminating salary inequities with our approach did take resources. We took advantage of already lower salaries and the need to increase salaries closer to benchmark and paired this effort with our DEI efforts to achieve salary equity. This required partnerships with the department and hospital. Efforts to advance DEI also take a lot of time and effort, and thus commitment from the division, department, and institution as a whole is key. While we have outcomes for our efforts related to salary equity, recruitment efforts should be realized over time, as currently it is too early to tell. We have highlighted the efforts that have been put in place at this time.

Using a systematic evidence-based approach with key stakeholder involvement, a division-wide DEI strategy was developed and implemented. While this work is still ongoing, short-term wins are possible, in particular around salary equity and development of policies and structures to promote DEI.

Studies continue to demonstrate persistent gaps in equity for women and underrepresented minorities (URMs)¹ throughout nearly all aspects of academic medicine, including rank,^2-4 tenure,⁵ authorship,^6,7 funding opportunities,^8,9 awards,¹⁰ speakership,¹¹ leadership,^12,13 and salaries.^2,14,15 Hospital medicine, despite being a newer field,¹⁶ has also seen these disparities^17,18; however, there are numerous efforts in place to actively change our specialty’s course.^19-22 Hospital medicine is a field known for being a change agent in healthcare delivery,²² and its novel approaches are well poised to fundamentally shatter the glass ceilings imposed on traditionally underrepresented groups in medicine. The importance of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives in healthcare has never been clearer,^23,24 particularly as they relate to cultural competence^25-28 and cultural humility,^29,30 implicit and explicit bias,²⁷ expanding care for underserved patient populations, supporting our workforce, and broadening research agendas.²⁸

In this article, we report DEI efforts within our division, focusing on the development of our strategic plan and specific outcomes related to compensation, recruitment, and policies.

Our Division’s Framework to DEI—“It Takes a Village”

Our Division of Hospital Medicine (DHM), previously within the Division of General Internal Medicine, was founded in October 2017. The DHM at the University of Colorado Hospital (UCH) is composed of 100 faculty members (70 physicians and 30 advanced-practice providers; 58% women and 42% men). In 2018, we implemented a stepwise approach to critically assess DEI within our group and to build a strategic plan to address the issues. Key areas of focus included institutional structures, our people, our environments, and our core missions (Figure 1 and Appendix Figure 1). DHM members helped drive our work and partnered with departmental, hospital, and school of medicine committees; national organizations; and collaborators to enhance implementation and dissemination efforts. In addition to stakeholder engagement, we utilized strategic planning and rapid Plan-Do-Study-Act (PDSA) cycles to advance DEI work in our DHM.

Needs Assessment

As a new division, we sought stakeholder feedback from division members. All faculty within the division were invited to attend a meeting in which issues related to DEI were discussed. A literature review that spanned both medical and nonmedical fields was also completed. Search terms included salary equity, gender equity, diverse teams, diversity recruitment and retention, diversifying leadership, and diverse speakers. Salaries, internally funded time, and other processes, such as recruitment, promotion, and hiring for leadership positions, were evaluated during the first year we became a division.

Interventions

TThrough this work, and with stakeholder engagement, we developed a divisional strategic plan to address DEI globally. Our strategic plan included developing a DEI director role to assist with overseeing DEI efforts. We have highlighted the various methods utilized for each component (Figure 1). This work occurred from October 2017 to December 2018.

Our institutional structures

Using best practices from both medical and nonmedical fields, we developed evidence-based approaches to compensation,³¹ recruitment,³² and policies that support and foster a culture of DEI.³² These strategies were used to support the following initiatives:

Compensation: transparent and consistent approaches based upon benchmarking with a framework of equal pay for equal work and similar advanced training/academic rank. In conjunction with efforts within the School of Medicine (SOM), Department of Medicine (DOM), and the UCH, our division sought to study salaries across DHM faculty members. We had an open call for faculty to participate in a newly developed DHM Compensation Committee, with the intent of rigorously examining our compensation practices and goals. Through faculty feedback and committee work, salary equity was defined as equal pay (ie, base salary for one clinical full-time equivalent [FTE]) for equal work based on academic rank and/or years of practice/advanced training. We also compared DHM salaries to regional academic hospital medicine groups and concluded that DHM salaries were lower than local and national benchmarks. This information was used to create a two-phase approach to increasing salaries for all individuals below the American Association of Medical Colleges (AAMC) benchmarks³³ for academic hospitalists. We also developed a stipend system for external roles that came with additional compensation and roles within our own division that came with additional pay (ie, nocturnist). Phase 1 focused on those whose salaries were furthest away from and below benchmark, and phase 2 targeted all remaining individuals below benchmark.

A similar review of FTEs (based on required number of shifts for a full-time hospitalist) tied to our internal DHM leadership positions was completed by the division head and director of DEI. Specifically, the mission for each of our internally funded roles, job descriptions, and responsibilities was reviewed to ensure equity in funding.

Recruitment and advancement: processes to ensure equity and diversity in recruitment, tracking, and reporting, working to eliminate/mitigate bias. In collaboration with members of the AAMC Group on Women in Medicine and Science (GWIMS) and coauthors from various institutions, we developed toolkits and checklists aimed at achieving equity and diversity within candidate pools and on major committees, including, but not limited to, search and promotion committees.³² Additionally, a checklist was developed to help recruit more diverse speakers, including women and URMs, for local, regional, and national conferences.

Policies: evidence-based approaches, tracking and reporting, standardized approaches to eliminate/mitigate bias, embracing nontraditional paths. In partnership with our departmental efforts, members of our team led data collection and reporting for salary benchmarking, leadership roles, and committee membership. This included developing surveys and reporting templates that can be used to identify disparities and inform future efforts. We worked to ensure that we have faculty representing our field at the department and SOM levels. Specifically, we made sure to nominate division members during open calls for departmental and schoolwide committees, including the promotions committee.

Our People

The faculty and staff within our division have been instrumental in moving efforts forward in the following important areas.

Leadership: develop the position of director of DEI as well as leadership structures to support and increase DEI. One of the first steps in our strategic plan was creating a director of DEI leadership role (Appendix Figure 2). The director is responsible for researching, applying, and promoting a broad scope of DEI initiatives and best practices within the DHM, DOM, and SOM (in collaboration with their leaders), including recruitment, retention, and promotion of medical students, residents, and faculty; educational program development; health disparities research; and community-engaged scholarship.

Support: develop family leave policies/develop flexible work policies. Several members of our division worked on departmental committees and served in leadership roles on staff and faculty council. Estimated costs were assessed. Through collective efforts of department leadership and division head support, the department approved parental leave to employees following the birth of an employee’s child or the placement of a child with an employee in connection with adoption or permanent foster care.

Mentorship/sponsorship: enhance faculty advancement programs/develop pipeline and trainings/collaborate with student groups and organizations/invest in all of our people. Faculty across our divisional sites have held important roles in developing pipeline programs for undergraduate students bound for health professions, as well as programs developed specifically for medical students and internal medicine residents. This includes two programs, the CU Hospitalist Scholars Program (CUHSP) and Leadership Education for Aspiring Doctors (LEAD), in which undergraduate students have the opportunity to round with hospital medicine teams, work on quality-improvement projects, and receive extensive mentorship and advising from a diverse faculty team. Additionally, our faculty advancement team within the DHM has grown and been restructured to include more defined goals and to ensure each faculty member has at least one mentor in their area of interest.

Supportive: lactation space and support/diverse space options/inclusive and diverse environments. We worked closely with hospital leadership to advocate for adequately equipped lactation spaces, including equipment such as pumps, refrigerators, and computer workstations. Additionally, our team members conducted environmental scans (eg, identified pictures, artwork, or other images that were not representative of a diverse and inclusive environment and raised concerns when the environment was not inclusive).

Measures

Our measures focused on (1) development and implementation of our DEI strategic plan, including new policies, processes, and practices related to key components of the DEI program; and (2) assessment of specific DEI programs, including pre-post salary data disparities based on rank and pre-post disparities for protected time for similar roles.

Analysis

Through rapid PDSA cycles, we evaluated salary equity, equity in leadership allotment, and committee membership. We have developed a tracking board to track progress of the multiple projects in the strategic plan.

Strategic Plan Development and Tracking

From October 2017 to December 2018, we developed a robust strategic plan and stepwise approach to DEI (Figure 1 and Figure 2). The director of DEI position was developed (see Appendix Figure 2 for job description) to help oversee these efforts. Figure 3 highlights the specific efforts and the progress made on implementation (ie, high-level dashboard or “tracking board”). While outcomes are still pending in the areas of recruitment and advancement and environment, we have made measurable improvements in compensation, as outlined in the following section.

Compensation

One year after the salary-equity interventions, all of our physician faculty’s salaries were at the goal benchmark (Table), and differences in salary for those in similar years of rank were nearly eliminated. Similarly, after implementing an internally consistent approach to assigning FTE for new and established positions within the division (ie, those that fall within the purview of the division), all faculty in similar types of roles had similar amounts of protected time.

Recruitment and Advancement

Toolkits³² and committee recommendations have been incorporated into division goals, though some aspects are still in implementation phases, as division-wide implicit bias training was delayed secondary to the COVID-19 pandemic. Key goals include: (1) implicit bias training for all members of major committees; (2) aiming for a goal of at least 40% representation of women and 40% URMs on committees; (3) having a diversity expert serve on each committee in order to identify and discuss any potential bias in the search and candidate-selection processes; and (4) careful tracking of diversity metrics in regard to diversity of candidates at each step of the interview and selection process.

Surveys and reporting templates for equity on committees and leadership positions have been developed and deployed. Data dashboards for our division have been developed as well (for compensation, leadership, and committee membership). A divisional dashboard to report recruitment efforts is in progress.

We have successfully nominated several faculty members to the SOM promotions committee and departmental committees during open calls for these positions. At the division level, we have also adapted internal policies to ensure promotion occurs on time and offers alternative pathways for faculty that may primarily focus on clinical pathways. All faculty who have gone up for promotion thus far have been successfully promoted in their desired pathway.

Environment

We successfully advocated and achieved adequately equipped lactation spaces, including equipment such as pumps, refrigerators, and computer workstations. This achievement was possible because of our hospital partners. Our efforts helped us acquire sufficient space and facilities such that nursing mothers can pump and still be able to answer phones, enter orders, and document visits.

Our team members conducted environmental scans and raised concerns when the environment was not inclusive, such as conference rooms with portraits of leadership that do not show diversity. The all-male pictures were removed from one frequently used departmental conference room, which will eventually house a diverse group of pictures and achievements.

We aim to eliminate bias by offering implicit bias training for our faculty. While this is presently required for those who serve on committees, in leadership positions, or those involved in recruitment and interviewing for the DOM, our goal is to eventually provide this training to all faculty and staff in the division. We have also incorporated DEI topics into our educational conferences for faculty, including sessions on recognizing bias in medicine, how to be an upstander/ally, and the impact of race and racism on medicine.

DISCUSSION

The important findings of this work are: (1) that successes in DEI can be achieved with strategic planning and stakeholder engagement; (2) through simple modification of processes, we can improve equity in compensation and FTE allotted to leadership; (3) though it takes time, diversity recruitment can be improved using sound, sustainable, evidence-based processes; (4) this work is time-intensive and challenging, requiring ongoing efforts to improve, modify, and enhance current efforts and future successes.

We have certainly made some progress with DEI initiatives within our division and have also learned a great deal from this experience. First, change is difficult for all parties involved, including those leading change and those affected by the changes. We purposely made an effort to facilitate discussions with all of the DHM faculty and staff to ensure that everyone felt included in this work and that everyone’s voice was heard. This was exemplified by inviting all faculty members to a feedback session in which we discussed DEI within our division and areas that we wanted to improve on. Early on, we were able to define what diversity, equity, and inclusion meant to us as a division and then use these definitions to develop tangible goals for all the areas of highest importance to the group.

By increasing faculty presence on key committees, such as the promotions committee, we now have faculty members who are well versed in promotions processes. We are fortunate to have a promotions process that supports faculty advancement for faculty with diverse interests that spans from supporting highly clinical faculty, clinician educators, as well as more traditional researchers.³⁴ By having hospitalists serve in these roles, we help to add to the diverse perspectives on these committees, including emphasizing the scholarship that is associated with quality improvement, as well as DEI efforts which can often be viewed as service as opposed to scholarship.

Clear communication and transparency were key to all of our DEI initiatives. We had monthly updates on our DEI efforts during business meetings and also held impromptu meetings (also known as flash mobs³⁵) to answer questions and discuss concerns in real time. As with all DEI work, it is important to know where you are starting (having accurate data and a clear understanding of the data) and be able to communicate that data to the group. For example, using AAMC salary benchmarking³³ as well as other benchmarks allowed us to accurately calculate variance among salaries and identify the appropriate goal salary for each of our faculty members. Likewise, by completing an in-depth inventory on the work being done by all of our faculty in leadership roles, we were able to standardize the compensation/FTE for each of these roles. Tracking these changes over time, via the use of dashboards in our case, allows for real-time measurements and accountability for all of those involved. Our end goal will be to have all of these initiatives feed into one large dashboard.

Collaborating with leadership and stakeholders in the DOM, SOM, and hospital helped to make our DEI initiatives successful. Much too often, we work in silos when it comes to DEI work. However, we tend to have similar goals and can achieve much more if we work together. Collaboration with multiple stakeholders allowed for wider dissemination and resulted in a larger impact to the campus and community at large. This has been exemplified by the committee composition guidance that has been utilized by the DOM, as well as implementation of campus-wide policies, specifically the parental leave policy, which our faculty members played an important role in creating. Likewise, it is important to look outside of our institutions and work with other hospital medicine groups around the country who are interested in promoting DEI.

We still have much work ahead of us. We are continuing to measure outcomes status postimplementation of the toolkit and checklists being used for diversity recruitment and committee composition. Additionally, we are actively working on several initiatives, including:

• Instituting implicit bias training for all of our faculty
• Partnering with national leaders and our hospital systems to develop zero-tolerance policies regarding abusive behaviors (verbal, physical, and other), racism, and sexism in the hospital and other work settings
• Development of specific recruitment strategies as a means of diversifying our healthcare workforce (of note, based on a 2020 survey of our faculty, in which there was a 70% response rate, 8.5% of our faculty identified as URMs)
• Completion of a diversity dashboard to track our progress in all of these efforts over time
• Development of a more robust pipeline to promotion and leadership for our URM faculty

This study has several strengths. Many of the plans and strategies described here can be used to guide others interested in implementing this work. Figure 2 provides a stepwise
approach to addressing DEI in hospital medicine groups and divisions. We conducted this work at a large academic medical center, and while it may not be generalizable, it does offer some ideas for others to consider in their own work to advance DEI at their institutions. There are also several limitations to this work. Eliminating salary inequities with our approach did take resources. We took advantage of already lower salaries and the need to increase salaries closer to benchmark and paired this effort with our DEI efforts to achieve salary equity. This required partnerships with the department and hospital. Efforts to advance DEI also take a lot of time and effort, and thus commitment from the division, department, and institution as a whole is key. While we have outcomes for our efforts related to salary equity, recruitment efforts should be realized over time, as currently it is too early to tell. We have highlighted the efforts that have been put in place at this time.

Using a systematic evidence-based approach with key stakeholder involvement, a division-wide DEI strategy was developed and implemented. While this work is still ongoing, short-term wins are possible, in particular around salary equity and development of policies and structures to promote DEI.

Hilda and I shared childhood stories while we enjoyed one of her favorite Mexican dishes, grilled nopalitos (cactus). Hilda loved nopalitos, but she rarely ate them because they are high in potassium. Hilda had end-stage kidney disease (ESKD), and as an undocumented Mexican immigrant in Denver, CO, she relied on emergency-only hemodialysis. Instead of receiving standard hemodialysis three times per week as required, Hilda would arrive critically ill to the hospital after her nausea, vomiting, and shortness of breath became unbearable. After three cardiac arrests from high potassium levels, she fervently avoided foods high in it. This time, however, she was not worried about potassium. This was our last meal together. She would fly to Mexico a few days later to die.

Our hospital medicine team knew Hilda well. We had continuity because we had been admitting her to the intensive care unit or medicine floor one night each week to receive two hemodialysis sessions when she was critically ill. I immediately connected with Hilda because our lives were parallel in many ways. Hilda and I were both in our early 30s, English was our second language, we both grew up in poverty, and we now had children in elementary school. I, however, was documented. My United States citizenship allowed me the privilege of pursuing a medical degree and gaining access to quality healthcare. In contrast, Hilda had been forced to end her education prematurely, marry her mother’s friend for financial stability at the age of 14, and eventually flee to the US to escape poverty. She survived by cleaning homes until her kidneys failed. Initially, Hilda was my patient. Over time, she became a dear friend.

The first two years of emergency-only hemodialysis devastated Hilda. Too sick to work, she became homeless, staying with a nurse until we found a shelter for single mothers. Multiple cardiac arrests and resuscitations traumatized her young sons, who called 911 each time she collapsed and witnessed the resuscitations. Her boys did not understand the cycle of separation from their mother for her emergent, weekly dialysis hospital admissions and wondered if she would survive to the following week. After two years of emergency-only dialysis, Hilda’s deep love for her boys and concern about the possibility that her sudden death could leave them alone led her to pre-emptively decide to stop emergency-only dialysis. Had Hilda’s treatment costs been covered by emergency Medicaid, as undocumented immigrants with ESKD are in some other states, she may not have been forced into this terrible decision. Moving to a state where standard dialysis is covered was not an option for Hilda because she wanted her boys to stay in Colorado where they had family and friends. With no other options, she first sought a loving adoptive family in the US so that her boys could grow up and have the opportunity to pursue an education. After carefully finding the right adoptive parents, Hilda wanted to celebrate her life with the people she loved. To show her gratitude, she organized a large Mexican Christmas party and invited all of the healthcare providers and friends that had supported her. She generously gave everyone a small gift to remember her by from the few things she owned. I received the wooden rosary her father had left her. A short while later, Hilda flew home to Mexico and passed away on Mother’s Day in 2014.

Two years of caring for Hilda as an internal medicine hospitalist changed me. Grief gave way to anger, anger to determination. I found it morally distressing to continue to provide this type of care. Something had to change and there was little research in this area. One small study had demonstrated that emergency-only hemodialysis was nearly four-fold more expensive due to additional visits to the emergency department and admissions to the hospital, compared to standard outpatient hemodialysis.¹ After much soul-searching and advice seeking, I scaled down my clinical hospitalist shifts and gathered a team to do research. For four years, we worked on illuminating the suffering of undocumented immigrants with ESKD that rely on emergency-only hemodialysis. We conducted 20 individual face-to-face qualitative interviews with undocumented immigrants with ESKD and heard first-hand about the emotional and physical burdens and the existential anxiety associated with weekly threats to life.² We published a retrospective cohort study looking at differences in mortality and found that immigrants who relied on emergency-only hemodialysis had a 14-fold greater mortality rate than those on standard hemodialysis five years after initiating hemodialysis.³ In another retrospective study, we described the circumstances among undocumented immigrants with ESKD who died in the hospital after presenting with ESKD complications, and found that the majority presented with high potassium and a recorded rhythm disturbance.⁴ I discovered that as a hospitalist physician, I was not the only one distressed. We conducted 50 qualitative interviews to determine the perspectives of interdisciplinary clinicians on providing emergency dialysis and found that there are more clinicians experiencing moral distress. They described several important drivers of burnout,⁵ including emotional exhaustion from witnessing needless suffering and high mortality, as well as physical exhaustion from overextending themselves to bridge their patient’s care. Together, we discovered that the research told the larger narrative behind Hilda’s struggles. These publications caught the attention of the media and enabled us to speak to a wider audience of clinicians, health policy makers, and the general public.^6-10 They also became a catalyst to engaging and enlisting the good will and interest of a number of key stakeholders to look for solutions.

In the US, undocumented immigrants do not qualify for insurance through traditional Medicaid, Medicare, or the provisions from the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. Instead, emergency Medicaid provides reimbursements for care of undocumented immigrants. According to the 1986 Emergency Medicaid Treatment and Active Labor Act, federal Medicaid payments can only be made for the care of undocumented immigrants if care is necessary for the treatment of an emergency medical condition.¹¹ However, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid (CMS) has outlined certain conditions that cannot qualify for matching federal funds under emergency Medicaid (ie, organ transplant and routine prenatal or postpartum care). Beyond these requirements, federal CMS and the Office of the Inspector General defer to states to define what constitutes a medical emergency. A few states include ESKD in the definition of “emergency medical condition,” thereby expanding access to standard hemodialysis to undocumented immigrants. We wanted Colorado to join that list.

On August 2018, after four years of research and months of dialog, everything changed: Colorado Medicaid announced that ESKD was now an “emergency medical condition.” As simple as that, undocumented immigrants would receive standard maintenance hemodialysis. Tears streamed down my face as I read a message from a policy specialist from the Colorado Medicaid: Your team “played a big role in bringing awareness to this issue, and your advocacy for these patients is impressive … thank you for fighting for such an important cause.” I reread her message, imagining what this would have meant to Hilda and her boys.

Our work to enhance care in this community is not over. To better understand the provision of dialysis care for undocumented immigrants in the United States, our team reviewed the Medicaid language for each of the 50 US states in addition to connecting with clinicians and organizations (eg, National Kidney Foundation and ESKD Networks). We found that only 12 states provide Medicaid reimbursement for standard dialysis and that a majority of the US states do not currently define need for dialysis as an emergency medical condition.¹² As our Colorado team works with stakeholders in other states interested in similarly redefining their state’s emergency Medicaid definition, our most important advice is that advocacy is a team-based effort. There may be resistance and some may argue that expanding access to care would be an economic burden on taxpayers; however, research demonstrates that undocumented immigrants contribute more to the US Medicare Trust Fund than they actually withdraw toward healthcare.¹³ Furthermore, a new study has demonstrated that a net savings of nearly $6,000 per person per month is realized when patients are transitioned from emergency-only hemodialysis to standard hemodialysis.¹⁴

Internal medicine hospitalists on the front-line of healthcare systems are regular witnesses to its horrible injustices. We rarely share our perspectives and do not expect change to follow. With Hilda, we saw how a powerful combination of research and coalition building could lift one patient’s tragic story to a level where it could produce change. Augmenting Hilda’s experience of tragically poor access to care with evidence-based research gave her story validity far beyond our immediate circle of friends and colleagues, making a singular tragedy, policy relevant. Each time we shared our research to community advocacy groups, health policy stakeholders, state legislators, nurses, and staff; we began with Hilda’s story, not just because it inspired us, but because its truth was undeniable. Our patients’ stories matter, and it is our responsibility to tell them.

Each time I prepare nopalitos for my family, I think of my last meal with Hilda. No matter how painful or difficult her struggle with ESKD, Hilda persisted. She protected her boys. They were her purpose. When she knew she could no longer give them the life she wanted for them, she found a family who would. Hilda’s sons now live with a loving adoptive family, are thriving in school, and her oldest is interested in becoming a physician. Nopal, or cactus, symbolizes such endurance—a plant with unique adaptations and strength that can flourish under extreme environmental stress. Like a cactus storing precious water, Hilda treasured her children, and her resolve to provide for them was unstoppable, right to the edge of death. When our team first took up Hilda’s cause, change seemed impossible. We discovered the opposite. As I clench the wooden rosary she left me that Christmas, I thank her for giving our team the courage to adapt and persist, for in doing so we found a path, first to research and then to broader partnerships and more meaningful policy changes.

Acknowledgments

The author would like to thank Hilda, her family, and the patients at Denver Health. She would also like to acknowledge Hilda’s family, Drs. Mark Earnest, John F. Steiner, Romana Hasnain-Wynia, Rudolph Rodriguez, Judy Regensteiner, and Michel Chonchol for reading and providing feedback on earlier drafts of this narrative.

Hilda and I shared childhood stories while we enjoyed one of her favorite Mexican dishes, grilled nopalitos (cactus). Hilda loved nopalitos, but she rarely ate them because they are high in potassium. Hilda had end-stage kidney disease (ESKD), and as an undocumented Mexican immigrant in Denver, CO, she relied on emergency-only hemodialysis. Instead of receiving standard hemodialysis three times per week as required, Hilda would arrive critically ill to the hospital after her nausea, vomiting, and shortness of breath became unbearable. After three cardiac arrests from high potassium levels, she fervently avoided foods high in it. This time, however, she was not worried about potassium. This was our last meal together. She would fly to Mexico a few days later to die.

Our hospital medicine team knew Hilda well. We had continuity because we had been admitting her to the intensive care unit or medicine floor one night each week to receive two hemodialysis sessions when she was critically ill. I immediately connected with Hilda because our lives were parallel in many ways. Hilda and I were both in our early 30s, English was our second language, we both grew up in poverty, and we now had children in elementary school. I, however, was documented. My United States citizenship allowed me the privilege of pursuing a medical degree and gaining access to quality healthcare. In contrast, Hilda had been forced to end her education prematurely, marry her mother’s friend for financial stability at the age of 14, and eventually flee to the US to escape poverty. She survived by cleaning homes until her kidneys failed. Initially, Hilda was my patient. Over time, she became a dear friend.

The first two years of emergency-only hemodialysis devastated Hilda. Too sick to work, she became homeless, staying with a nurse until we found a shelter for single mothers. Multiple cardiac arrests and resuscitations traumatized her young sons, who called 911 each time she collapsed and witnessed the resuscitations. Her boys did not understand the cycle of separation from their mother for her emergent, weekly dialysis hospital admissions and wondered if she would survive to the following week. After two years of emergency-only dialysis, Hilda’s deep love for her boys and concern about the possibility that her sudden death could leave them alone led her to pre-emptively decide to stop emergency-only dialysis. Had Hilda’s treatment costs been covered by emergency Medicaid, as undocumented immigrants with ESKD are in some other states, she may not have been forced into this terrible decision. Moving to a state where standard dialysis is covered was not an option for Hilda because she wanted her boys to stay in Colorado where they had family and friends. With no other options, she first sought a loving adoptive family in the US so that her boys could grow up and have the opportunity to pursue an education. After carefully finding the right adoptive parents, Hilda wanted to celebrate her life with the people she loved. To show her gratitude, she organized a large Mexican Christmas party and invited all of the healthcare providers and friends that had supported her. She generously gave everyone a small gift to remember her by from the few things she owned. I received the wooden rosary her father had left her. A short while later, Hilda flew home to Mexico and passed away on Mother’s Day in 2014.

Two years of caring for Hilda as an internal medicine hospitalist changed me. Grief gave way to anger, anger to determination. I found it morally distressing to continue to provide this type of care. Something had to change and there was little research in this area. One small study had demonstrated that emergency-only hemodialysis was nearly four-fold more expensive due to additional visits to the emergency department and admissions to the hospital, compared to standard outpatient hemodialysis.¹ After much soul-searching and advice seeking, I scaled down my clinical hospitalist shifts and gathered a team to do research. For four years, we worked on illuminating the suffering of undocumented immigrants with ESKD that rely on emergency-only hemodialysis. We conducted 20 individual face-to-face qualitative interviews with undocumented immigrants with ESKD and heard first-hand about the emotional and physical burdens and the existential anxiety associated with weekly threats to life.² We published a retrospective cohort study looking at differences in mortality and found that immigrants who relied on emergency-only hemodialysis had a 14-fold greater mortality rate than those on standard hemodialysis five years after initiating hemodialysis.³ In another retrospective study, we described the circumstances among undocumented immigrants with ESKD who died in the hospital after presenting with ESKD complications, and found that the majority presented with high potassium and a recorded rhythm disturbance.⁴ I discovered that as a hospitalist physician, I was not the only one distressed. We conducted 50 qualitative interviews to determine the perspectives of interdisciplinary clinicians on providing emergency dialysis and found that there are more clinicians experiencing moral distress. They described several important drivers of burnout,⁵ including emotional exhaustion from witnessing needless suffering and high mortality, as well as physical exhaustion from overextending themselves to bridge their patient’s care. Together, we discovered that the research told the larger narrative behind Hilda’s struggles. These publications caught the attention of the media and enabled us to speak to a wider audience of clinicians, health policy makers, and the general public.^6-10 They also became a catalyst to engaging and enlisting the good will and interest of a number of key stakeholders to look for solutions.

In the US, undocumented immigrants do not qualify for insurance through traditional Medicaid, Medicare, or the provisions from the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. Instead, emergency Medicaid provides reimbursements for care of undocumented immigrants. According to the 1986 Emergency Medicaid Treatment and Active Labor Act, federal Medicaid payments can only be made for the care of undocumented immigrants if care is necessary for the treatment of an emergency medical condition.¹¹ However, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid (CMS) has outlined certain conditions that cannot qualify for matching federal funds under emergency Medicaid (ie, organ transplant and routine prenatal or postpartum care). Beyond these requirements, federal CMS and the Office of the Inspector General defer to states to define what constitutes a medical emergency. A few states include ESKD in the definition of “emergency medical condition,” thereby expanding access to standard hemodialysis to undocumented immigrants. We wanted Colorado to join that list.

On August 2018, after four years of research and months of dialog, everything changed: Colorado Medicaid announced that ESKD was now an “emergency medical condition.” As simple as that, undocumented immigrants would receive standard maintenance hemodialysis. Tears streamed down my face as I read a message from a policy specialist from the Colorado Medicaid: Your team “played a big role in bringing awareness to this issue, and your advocacy for these patients is impressive … thank you for fighting for such an important cause.” I reread her message, imagining what this would have meant to Hilda and her boys.

Our work to enhance care in this community is not over. To better understand the provision of dialysis care for undocumented immigrants in the United States, our team reviewed the Medicaid language for each of the 50 US states in addition to connecting with clinicians and organizations (eg, National Kidney Foundation and ESKD Networks). We found that only 12 states provide Medicaid reimbursement for standard dialysis and that a majority of the US states do not currently define need for dialysis as an emergency medical condition.¹² As our Colorado team works with stakeholders in other states interested in similarly redefining their state’s emergency Medicaid definition, our most important advice is that advocacy is a team-based effort. There may be resistance and some may argue that expanding access to care would be an economic burden on taxpayers; however, research demonstrates that undocumented immigrants contribute more to the US Medicare Trust Fund than they actually withdraw toward healthcare.¹³ Furthermore, a new study has demonstrated that a net savings of nearly $6,000 per person per month is realized when patients are transitioned from emergency-only hemodialysis to standard hemodialysis.¹⁴

Internal medicine hospitalists on the front-line of healthcare systems are regular witnesses to its horrible injustices. We rarely share our perspectives and do not expect change to follow. With Hilda, we saw how a powerful combination of research and coalition building could lift one patient’s tragic story to a level where it could produce change. Augmenting Hilda’s experience of tragically poor access to care with evidence-based research gave her story validity far beyond our immediate circle of friends and colleagues, making a singular tragedy, policy relevant. Each time we shared our research to community advocacy groups, health policy stakeholders, state legislators, nurses, and staff; we began with Hilda’s story, not just because it inspired us, but because its truth was undeniable. Our patients’ stories matter, and it is our responsibility to tell them.

Each time I prepare nopalitos for my family, I think of my last meal with Hilda. No matter how painful or difficult her struggle with ESKD, Hilda persisted. She protected her boys. They were her purpose. When she knew she could no longer give them the life she wanted for them, she found a family who would. Hilda’s sons now live with a loving adoptive family, are thriving in school, and her oldest is interested in becoming a physician. Nopal, or cactus, symbolizes such endurance—a plant with unique adaptations and strength that can flourish under extreme environmental stress. Like a cactus storing precious water, Hilda treasured her children, and her resolve to provide for them was unstoppable, right to the edge of death. When our team first took up Hilda’s cause, change seemed impossible. We discovered the opposite. As I clench the wooden rosary she left me that Christmas, I thank her for giving our team the courage to adapt and persist, for in doing so we found a path, first to research and then to broader partnerships and more meaningful policy changes.

Acknowledgments

The author would like to thank Hilda, her family, and the patients at Denver Health. She would also like to acknowledge Hilda’s family, Drs. Mark Earnest, John F. Steiner, Romana Hasnain-Wynia, Rudolph Rodriguez, Judy Regensteiner, and Michel Chonchol for reading and providing feedback on earlier drafts of this narrative.

Hilda and I shared childhood stories while we enjoyed one of her favorite Mexican dishes, grilled nopalitos (cactus). Hilda loved nopalitos, but she rarely ate them because they are high in potassium. Hilda had end-stage kidney disease (ESKD), and as an undocumented Mexican immigrant in Denver, CO, she relied on emergency-only hemodialysis. Instead of receiving standard hemodialysis three times per week as required, Hilda would arrive critically ill to the hospital after her nausea, vomiting, and shortness of breath became unbearable. After three cardiac arrests from high potassium levels, she fervently avoided foods high in it. This time, however, she was not worried about potassium. This was our last meal together. She would fly to Mexico a few days later to die.

Our hospital medicine team knew Hilda well. We had continuity because we had been admitting her to the intensive care unit or medicine floor one night each week to receive two hemodialysis sessions when she was critically ill. I immediately connected with Hilda because our lives were parallel in many ways. Hilda and I were both in our early 30s, English was our second language, we both grew up in poverty, and we now had children in elementary school. I, however, was documented. My United States citizenship allowed me the privilege of pursuing a medical degree and gaining access to quality healthcare. In contrast, Hilda had been forced to end her education prematurely, marry her mother’s friend for financial stability at the age of 14, and eventually flee to the US to escape poverty. She survived by cleaning homes until her kidneys failed. Initially, Hilda was my patient. Over time, she became a dear friend.

The first two years of emergency-only hemodialysis devastated Hilda. Too sick to work, she became homeless, staying with a nurse until we found a shelter for single mothers. Multiple cardiac arrests and resuscitations traumatized her young sons, who called 911 each time she collapsed and witnessed the resuscitations. Her boys did not understand the cycle of separation from their mother for her emergent, weekly dialysis hospital admissions and wondered if she would survive to the following week. After two years of emergency-only dialysis, Hilda’s deep love for her boys and concern about the possibility that her sudden death could leave them alone led her to pre-emptively decide to stop emergency-only dialysis. Had Hilda’s treatment costs been covered by emergency Medicaid, as undocumented immigrants with ESKD are in some other states, she may not have been forced into this terrible decision. Moving to a state where standard dialysis is covered was not an option for Hilda because she wanted her boys to stay in Colorado where they had family and friends. With no other options, she first sought a loving adoptive family in the US so that her boys could grow up and have the opportunity to pursue an education. After carefully finding the right adoptive parents, Hilda wanted to celebrate her life with the people she loved. To show her gratitude, she organized a large Mexican Christmas party and invited all of the healthcare providers and friends that had supported her. She generously gave everyone a small gift to remember her by from the few things she owned. I received the wooden rosary her father had left her. A short while later, Hilda flew home to Mexico and passed away on Mother’s Day in 2014.

Two years of caring for Hilda as an internal medicine hospitalist changed me. Grief gave way to anger, anger to determination. I found it morally distressing to continue to provide this type of care. Something had to change and there was little research in this area. One small study had demonstrated that emergency-only hemodialysis was nearly four-fold more expensive due to additional visits to the emergency department and admissions to the hospital, compared to standard outpatient hemodialysis.¹ After much soul-searching and advice seeking, I scaled down my clinical hospitalist shifts and gathered a team to do research. For four years, we worked on illuminating the suffering of undocumented immigrants with ESKD that rely on emergency-only hemodialysis. We conducted 20 individual face-to-face qualitative interviews with undocumented immigrants with ESKD and heard first-hand about the emotional and physical burdens and the existential anxiety associated with weekly threats to life.² We published a retrospective cohort study looking at differences in mortality and found that immigrants who relied on emergency-only hemodialysis had a 14-fold greater mortality rate than those on standard hemodialysis five years after initiating hemodialysis.³ In another retrospective study, we described the circumstances among undocumented immigrants with ESKD who died in the hospital after presenting with ESKD complications, and found that the majority presented with high potassium and a recorded rhythm disturbance.⁴ I discovered that as a hospitalist physician, I was not the only one distressed. We conducted 50 qualitative interviews to determine the perspectives of interdisciplinary clinicians on providing emergency dialysis and found that there are more clinicians experiencing moral distress. They described several important drivers of burnout,⁵ including emotional exhaustion from witnessing needless suffering and high mortality, as well as physical exhaustion from overextending themselves to bridge their patient’s care. Together, we discovered that the research told the larger narrative behind Hilda’s struggles. These publications caught the attention of the media and enabled us to speak to a wider audience of clinicians, health policy makers, and the general public.^6-10 They also became a catalyst to engaging and enlisting the good will and interest of a number of key stakeholders to look for solutions.

In the US, undocumented immigrants do not qualify for insurance through traditional Medicaid, Medicare, or the provisions from the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. Instead, emergency Medicaid provides reimbursements for care of undocumented immigrants. According to the 1986 Emergency Medicaid Treatment and Active Labor Act, federal Medicaid payments can only be made for the care of undocumented immigrants if care is necessary for the treatment of an emergency medical condition.¹¹ However, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid (CMS) has outlined certain conditions that cannot qualify for matching federal funds under emergency Medicaid (ie, organ transplant and routine prenatal or postpartum care). Beyond these requirements, federal CMS and the Office of the Inspector General defer to states to define what constitutes a medical emergency. A few states include ESKD in the definition of “emergency medical condition,” thereby expanding access to standard hemodialysis to undocumented immigrants. We wanted Colorado to join that list.

On August 2018, after four years of research and months of dialog, everything changed: Colorado Medicaid announced that ESKD was now an “emergency medical condition.” As simple as that, undocumented immigrants would receive standard maintenance hemodialysis. Tears streamed down my face as I read a message from a policy specialist from the Colorado Medicaid: Your team “played a big role in bringing awareness to this issue, and your advocacy for these patients is impressive … thank you for fighting for such an important cause.” I reread her message, imagining what this would have meant to Hilda and her boys.

Our work to enhance care in this community is not over. To better understand the provision of dialysis care for undocumented immigrants in the United States, our team reviewed the Medicaid language for each of the 50 US states in addition to connecting with clinicians and organizations (eg, National Kidney Foundation and ESKD Networks). We found that only 12 states provide Medicaid reimbursement for standard dialysis and that a majority of the US states do not currently define need for dialysis as an emergency medical condition.¹² As our Colorado team works with stakeholders in other states interested in similarly redefining their state’s emergency Medicaid definition, our most important advice is that advocacy is a team-based effort. There may be resistance and some may argue that expanding access to care would be an economic burden on taxpayers; however, research demonstrates that undocumented immigrants contribute more to the US Medicare Trust Fund than they actually withdraw toward healthcare.¹³ Furthermore, a new study has demonstrated that a net savings of nearly $6,000 per person per month is realized when patients are transitioned from emergency-only hemodialysis to standard hemodialysis.¹⁴

Internal medicine hospitalists on the front-line of healthcare systems are regular witnesses to its horrible injustices. We rarely share our perspectives and do not expect change to follow. With Hilda, we saw how a powerful combination of research and coalition building could lift one patient’s tragic story to a level where it could produce change. Augmenting Hilda’s experience of tragically poor access to care with evidence-based research gave her story validity far beyond our immediate circle of friends and colleagues, making a singular tragedy, policy relevant. Each time we shared our research to community advocacy groups, health policy stakeholders, state legislators, nurses, and staff; we began with Hilda’s story, not just because it inspired us, but because its truth was undeniable. Our patients’ stories matter, and it is our responsibility to tell them.

Each time I prepare nopalitos for my family, I think of my last meal with Hilda. No matter how painful or difficult her struggle with ESKD, Hilda persisted. She protected her boys. They were her purpose. When she knew she could no longer give them the life she wanted for them, she found a family who would. Hilda’s sons now live with a loving adoptive family, are thriving in school, and her oldest is interested in becoming a physician. Nopal, or cactus, symbolizes such endurance—a plant with unique adaptations and strength that can flourish under extreme environmental stress. Like a cactus storing precious water, Hilda treasured her children, and her resolve to provide for them was unstoppable, right to the edge of death. When our team first took up Hilda’s cause, change seemed impossible. We discovered the opposite. As I clench the wooden rosary she left me that Christmas, I thank her for giving our team the courage to adapt and persist, for in doing so we found a path, first to research and then to broader partnerships and more meaningful policy changes.

Acknowledgments

The author would like to thank Hilda, her family, and the patients at Denver Health. She would also like to acknowledge Hilda’s family, Drs. Mark Earnest, John F. Steiner, Romana Hasnain-Wynia, Rudolph Rodriguez, Judy Regensteiner, and Michel Chonchol for reading and providing feedback on earlier drafts of this narrative.