May
30, 2006
TIMOTHY’S
LAW DAY AT “THE JOE”
On June 20th, the Capital Region’s
own single-A baseball team, the Tri-City Valley Cats, will have
their home-opener at the Joseph L. Bruno Stadium in Troy. This
game has unofficially been designated the Timothy’s Law
Day at “The Joe,” as supporters of Timothy’s
Law are invited to attend the 7:00 game against the Oneonta Tigers
with other Timothy’s Law supporters and urge for passage
of Timothy’s Law before the 2006 Legislative Session ends.
All are welcome to attend – it’s sure to be a good
time and for a good cause. Additional information is available
by contacting Ruth Foster at rfoster@ftnys.org or 518-432-0333
x15.
DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH UPDATE ON INFORMATION
EFFECTING MEDICAID RECIPIENTS: Recently,
DOH provided additional information on their website regarding
changes to the provision of benefits to Medicaid eligible individuals.
The
first, of particular interest to New Yorkers with mental health
needs, are Changes to the Medicaid "Wrap-Around"
Program for Full Benefit Duals Enrolled in Medicare Part D.
In essence, on July 1st of this year, the Medicaid wrap-around
benefit authorized by the Legislature for individuals who are
now getting medications through a Medicare Part D plan will end,
leaving just four categories of medications covered by Medicaid,
including anti-depressants and atypical antipsychotics. Medicaid
recipients will be able to access drugs in the four categories
when 1) the drugs are not covered by a specific Part D plan, 2)
when the patient does not meet the plan's utilization management
requirements, and 3) when there are quantity limits inconsistent
with the prescribed amount. The wrap-around benefit will not be
available for early refills, refills for lost or stolen drugs,
or extended or vacation supplies.
The
second concerns the Implementation of the
Medicaid Preferred Drug Program, effective June 28,
2006. The first phase of drugs will be subject to the preferred
drug program on this date, requiring prior authorization to access
drugs not on the preferred list of drugs, and will include the
following therapeutic classes: Angiotensin II Receptor Blocking
Agents (ARBs), Angiotensin Converting Enzyme (ACE) inhibitors,
Beta Blockers, Dihydropyridine Calcium Channel Blockers (CCBs),
CCB/ACE inhibitor Combinations, and Bisphosphonates. As additional
meeting of the Pharmacy and Therapeutics Committee take place,
additional categories of drugs will be placed under the Preferred
Drug Program. And, the next meeting of the
Pharmacy and Therapeutics Committee is scheduled for June 9th.
Among other issues, the Committee will address the Establishment
of procedures for newly approved prescription drugs subject to
the Preferred Drug Program, which will be used to address newly
approved drugs within a therapeutic class subject to the Preferred
Drug Program.
Additional
details on both of these matters is available at http://www.health.state.ny.us/health_care/medicaid/program/update/2006/jun2006.htm.
IN
THE NEWS:
Secret
Sorrow Part 4: Escaping the Silence
For a local woman, speaking out has been key to working through
grief. By Amanda Bensen
Glens Falls Post-Star, May 24, 2006
Editor's
Note: This is the fourth in a six-part series.
When
Karen Padowicz's uncle called her on a December day almost 25
years ago and said her parents were coming to visit, she guessed
why.
"Roger's
dead, isn't he?" she asked.
Her
older brother, 37-year-old Roger Maune, had hanged himself.
It
was an act that would shape the rest of Karen's life and career.
She now works for the Warren-Washington Association for Mental
Health, developing programs on mental health and suicide prevention.
But
speaking out about her brother's suicide didn't come easily.
Her
parents arrived at Karen's apartment in Schenectady that night,
nodded tearfully, and quickly shuttered their pain behind silence.
"No
one wants to talk about suicide. That night was like any other
night," Karen remembered. "My mother read a magazine.
My father read the paper. My sister cooked. I said, 'Don't you
think we need to talk about this?' "
SPECIAL
BOND
Karen had visited her brother about two weeks earlier at their
parents' apartment in Florida.
"Roger
and I had a very unique relationship, like we were spiritual buddies
or something," she said.
She
remembered the "trust game" they played as kids, which
involved falling or jumping into her brother's arms without looking.
"One
day, I jumped out of my second-story bedroom window and he caught
me," she said. "I trusted him with my life."
Maybe
that's why she woke up about 4 a.m. that night in Florida to discover
her brother silently climbing over the balcony.
"I
jumped up and said in this kind of theatrical voice, 'Roger, you
can't kill yourself on your parents' balcony! What will the neighbors
think?' " Karen remembered. "That was the right thing
to say. It brought him back."
For
the next two hours, Roger was lucid. Their conversation flowed
as it had in the old days, and Karen thought everything was going
to be OK.
"Then
it was like a switch turned on inside. He went from coherent to
-- just this other place -- so quickly. And I sort of snapped,
too, because it destroyed my optimism," she said.
They
fought, and Roger left the room. As he walked out the door, he
turned to Karen and said: "Just remember, go toward the light."
That
was the last time she saw him.
A
SENSITIVE SOUL
Roger was one of those people who seem to be born burning at both
ends.
"He
and his friends were the kind of people I always wanted to be
-- curious, interesting, passionate people. They were people who
really lived," said Karen.
In
the late '60s, Roger was a striking young man. He was about 6
feet tall, with a Roman nose, big blue eyes and a reddish-blond
beard.
"He
was such a pretty boy," said his younger sister, Lorraine
Dejohn. "Damn it, he had the longest eyelashes, and that
wavy hair -- oh my gosh!"
In
Karen's childish imagination, he resembled a young Einstein, and
she considered Roger just as brilliant.
"I
called him the dictionary. Any questions I had, he just knew the
answers to," she remembered.
He
was the artistic, "Beatnik" type who wrote poetry and
listened to jazz. He sang beautifully, played several instruments,
and loved to act.
His
intensely sensitive nature proved both a gift and a burden.
"Once,
he told me: 'Carrie, Carrie, do you know trees cry when you cut
them?' I would crumble if I felt the things he felt," Karen
reflected. "I mean, how do you live with that depth of feeling?"
He
didn't know.
A
BLACK AURA
Fissures in Roger's mental health began showing up in his mid-20s,
leading to a psychotic breakdown that landed him in the hospital.
For
the next decade, he became increasingly convinced he was evil.
"He
was so totally sure that he had a 'black aura' that was harming
people," Lorraine said. "He didn't want anyone near
him."
At
the height of his paranoia, he would only talk to Karen from around
the corners of rooms, fearing that his inner darkness was contagious.
Soon,
he moved away to Syracuse. He and Karen communicated through letters,
but for a long time, she didn't understand the depth of his problems.
"All
I saw was this beautiful human being," she said.
His
parents and siblings tried to help him, but they rarely shared
their struggles with each other. Stoic self-reliance was considered
the best way to handle problems in the Maune family.
Years
later, Karen discovered that her family had a history of mental
illness on both sides: a great-aunt and grandmother who went in
and out of institutions after "nervous breakdowns";
a great-uncle who hanged himself; a cousin with bipolar disorder;
another cousin whose teenage child committed suicide. She also
found out that when her parents had picked Roger up at the hospital
after his first breakdown, psychiatrists had warned them he was
at risk of committing suicide.
"If
I had known that then, it would have shaped the decisions I made
after, no doubt about it," said Karen.
THE
BURDEN OF CARE
Medication couldn't shake the voices of condemnation from Roger's
brain, but it did shake his body. The side effects of several
psychotropic medications left him with a debilitating Parkinsonian
syndrome that sent him to the hospital again in the late '70s.
Karen
moved to Syracuse to care for him when he got out of the hospital,
and discovered that he had been sleeping in his car in front of
his apartment.
"When
I got there, I realized the extent of his illness," she said.
Not
long after that, he decided to stop taking his medication.
Eventually,
Karen's emotional resources were so exhausted by caring for Roger
that her physical health was in jeopardy. She turned to her sister
for help.
Lorraine,
divorced and living alone at that point, took Roger into her home.
She talked to him over coffee and cigarettes at the kitchen table,
night after night. She would have hugged him, but he wouldn't
let her come close.
A
cloud of despair had enveloped him, and it was impossible to penetrate
with words.
"I
talked to my brother until I was blue in the face, but I just
couldn't help him," Lorraine said. "Now, he didn't say
he was going to kill himself. He didn't go out looking for someone
with a gun to kill him. But he kept talking about this black aura,
and I couldn't get him to go to a doctor or sign up for unemployment.
... He didn't seem to feel he was worth the effort."
After
10 months, Lorraine couldn't take it anymore.
"He
was driving me crazy -- and I'm not crazy," she said.
In
October, she sent him to live with their parents, who had just
moved to Florida.
SILENCE
Roger's illness often drove him to wander, so when he disappeared
in early December, no one looked for him. His body was found in
a grove of trees by firemen responding to a brush fire near his
parents' house. No one knows exactly how long he had been there.
His
body was cremated immediately, but it wasn't until almost a year
later that his ashes were scattered on the land of a close friend.
There was no funeral; no grave to visit.
"When
you don't have that, it haunts you," Karen said. "There's
no sense of closure."
She
held out a small red jewelry box, lined with a yellowing square
of cotton.
"This
is all I have left of my brother," she said, pointing at
a few pebble-sized white fragments she snatched from the scattered
ashes. She is creating a memorial stone in her backyard, to honor
Roger and their father, who died of cancer three years ago.
"My
mother and father both had cancer twice, and I honestly believe
it's because they held that grief inside," Karen said. "You
know that Simon and Garfunkel song, 'Silence like a cancer grows?'
It's really true."
Her
mother is still alive, but refused to be interviewed.
"For
my mother, the chapter is closed. It hurts too much," explained
Lorraine. "She did say that losing a child should never happen
to a parent."
For
both Lorraine and Karen, talking about their brother's death has
been a form of healing.
"I
think this is important, so people can see how suicide affects
not only the person who has taken their own life, but how it affects
the whole family," said Lorraine. "I'm not stigmatized
by it. My friends know that Roger committed suicide. It was horrible,
terrible -- and I think it was preventable, but I didn't know
what to do about it. I hope this helps other people."
FEELING
THE PULL
Roger's death sent Karen into a tailspin that she believes was
her own attempt at suicide. She spent the next four months in
"the most destitute bars possible," drinking heavily
and often driving afterward.
"I
just did not care," she said. "My behaviors at the time
were death-driven and death-seeking."
As
she lay on her couch in a stupor one Sunday, she began to lose
feeling in her limbs. She was overwhelmed with a sense that she
was dying.
Then
a thought came to her: "I think you're going into a diabetic
coma. Eat some oranges."
She
did, and as her body revived, so did her mental clarity.
"You
could say that Roger reached out to me," she said. "I
realized that he would never want this to happen."
She
said family members left behind by suicide often feel pulled toward
self-destruction.
"When
someone chooses death, it's so contrary to the survival instinct
that you think there must be something inside them that's broken,"
she said. "I began to see it as an inevitability that I would
break, too -- so I almost sought it out."
In
the years that followed, she tried to bury her grief by becoming
a workaholic, and has only recently begun to confront her emotions
about Roger's suicide.
"I
remember thinking: Karen, if you focus on this, you may go totally
insane," she said. "Working kept my mind on other things."
Karen
ended up at Warren Washington Association for Mental Health about
eight years ago.
She
calls the mental health field "my professional swan song,"
the natural endpoint of the painful journey that Roger's death
prompted in her personal life. Her goal is to reduce the public
stigma surrounding mental health disorders, and get a message
across to those struggling with them.
"People
need to seek treatment," she said. "We know more now,
and treatment can be highly successful. You don't need to suffer
the way people suffered in the past. There's help."
She
also offers a warning to those grappling with the grief of a loved
one's suicide.
"A
lot of people seem to think that if you just ignore or deny something
painful, it will go away -- but it doesn't," she said. "It
becomes like a lead ball inside of you that grows thicker with
each passing year, and makes it harder to access your core emotions.
I still can't cry."
She
finds release in words, if not tears.
"I
love being able to talk about my brother -- to honor him; feel
him again," she said. "I haven't been able to do that
before."
Roger
is gone, but Karen feels that he left her with a gift.
"He
left me with this knowledge that people can get to a point where
it becomes black and white: Do you want to die or live?"
she said.
"And
once you realize that you want to live, it's a very powerful feeling."
Doing
More Than Their Times. By John
Q. LaFond and Bruce J. Winick
The New York Times Op-Ed,
May 21, 2006
The
New York Legislature is debating whether to approve a sex offender
civil commitment law. The law would allow the attorney general
to confine sex offenders in secure hospitals indefinitely after
they have served their prison sentences. This is a bad idea.
More
than a dozen states have tried this novel strategy for preventing
sexual recidivism. Their experiences clearly show that these laws
waste taxpayer dollars and embroil state agencies in endless litigation.
Instead of warehousing a small percentage of sex offenders, states
should use the money on cost-effective strategies like community
supervision combined with mandatory treatment that would reach
many more released convicts.
These
commitment laws, including the proposed New York statute, have
vague and expansive definitions, allowing for the confinement
even of convicted sex offenders who are not mentally disturbed
or dangerous. Every state that has put these laws into effect
has committed far more and released far fewer sex offenders than
expected. As a result, these states are paying for ever growing
numbers of patients in costly hospitals, many of them elderly
men who require expensive medical care.
By
December 2004, 3,493 men had been confined nationwide under these
laws; only 427 had been given conditional release (most of them)
or final discharge. This has led to unexpected costs for state
governments: Minnesota, for instance, initially expected to cap
its population at 350. In January, however, Gov. Tim Pawlenty
proposed borrowing $44.6 million to build another locked residential
building for this population, this one with 400 beds.
The
Constitution requires that civilly committed patients must receive
treatment for their mental disorders. And while treating sex offenders
in secure hospitals is extraordinarily expensive — about
$100,000 per person a year, not including the costs of construction
and legal fees for the inevitable lawsuits — conditional
release programs add even more expense. By December 2004, Washington
State, which was one of the first states to enact this new commitment
law, had about 220 hospitalized offenders and was spending about
$105,665 per person per year.
Experts
say that a civil commitment program will cost New York $250,000
an offender for a single year. Simply put, states with these laws
are spending an enormous amount of money confining relatively
few sex offenders, while releasing many dangerous sex offenders
back into the community with inadequate control.
The
impetus for civil commitment laws, of course, is the fear that
freed sex offenders will assault again. But the data on sex-offender
recidivism is unclear. For instance, a Justice Department study
of 9,700 sex offenders released from prison nationwide in 1994
found that their overall re-arrest rate was much lower than that
of other released convicts. Most experts, however, say that like
sex crimes in general, sex-offender recidivism is vastly underreported.
Still, the available evidence shows that sex offenders have a
reoffense rate lower than all other serious criminals except murderers.
What's
worse is that once these civil commitment laws are enacted, they're
almost never repealed or reconsidered. If New York is foolish
enough to go down this path, then its law should allow some sex
offenders to be initially treated and supervised in community-based
centers rather than sent to prison-like hospitals. Having community-based
treatment centers, which are usually less expensive than hospitals,
will also ensure that an effective and safe discharge system is
available for offenders sent to hospitals.
Research
shows that treatment can reduce sexual recidivism. And offering
treatment in prison to sex offenders soon after conviction is
far more effective than delaying treatment until the end of their
prison terms. Delay allows sex offenders to rationalize and minimize
their crimes and to avoid confronting their harmful attitudes
and behavior. The possibility of post-prison commitment could
critically impair prison treatment because inmates will fear that
anything they disclose to therapists in prison will be used to
confine them under these new commitment laws.
Most
sex offenders will return to the community, including a relatively
small group readily identifiable as dangerous. The scarce resources
squandered on committing a few sex offenders indefinitely would
be better spent aggressively managing these high-risk offenders
in the community after their release from prison. Intensive supervision
by specially trained parole officers with light case loads, combined
with mandatory treatment, periodic polygraph testing and real-time
tracking through global positioning systems can reduce sexual
recidivism. Sex offender management courts can enhance effectiveness
by adding judicial participation and oversight.
Everyone
agrees that we have a moral obligation to prevent as many sex
crimes as possible with the resources available. Only a public
policy based on sound research can accomplish this important goal.
John
Q. La Fond, a former professor of law at the University of Missouri,
Kansas City, is the author of "Preventing Sexual Violence:
How Society Should Cope with Sex Offenders." Bruce J. Winick
is a professor at the University of Miami School of Law.
Erasing Stigma Key to Mental Treatment.
By Rosalynn Carter
San Jose Mercury News, May 26, 2006
Every
day, millions of Americans are screened and treated for heart
disease, cancer or diabetes by primary care professionals, but
most go home without being screened for a mental illness. This
is unfortunate, because more people suffer from mental illnesses
than from the three other diseases combined.
While
mental illnesses can be as debilitating and life-threatening as
many physical illnesses, research shows that fewer than half of
the 54 million Americans who have a mental illness seek treatment.
May
is National Mental Health Month, and communities across the country
are commemorating the occasion by raising awareness and encouraging
Americans to learn more about mental health issues. While these
events show how much we have improved understanding and reduced
stigma, there are still many misconceptions about mental health
that prevent people from seeking help or discussing the issue
openly with friends and family.
For
more than three decades I have advocated on behalf of people who
have mental illnesses, and I have gained hope as society became
more educated and accepting. But as we learn more about how the
brain works and develop more effective treatments, it grieves
me that millions of Americans and their families still suffer
in silence.
It
is even more disconcerting that in a time when we know the very
most about how to help people, we maintain policies that prohibit
many from getting access to services. Because insurers fear that
their costs will increase, mental health treatment is not covered
by insurance at a level comparable to other illnesses.
Many
states and the federal government have not legislated protections
against this discrimination, although federal employees do enjoy
such parity.
Recently,
the New England Journal of Medicine published the results of a
study titled ``Behavioral Health Insurance Parity for Federal
Employees,'' which revealed that when parity in insurance benefits
for behavioral health care is coupled with management of care,
insurance protection can be improved without increasing total
costs.
It
is time to stop throwing up barriers to mental health care needed
by so many Americans.
It
is encouraging that numerous federal and state laws protect Americans
with mental illnesses and disabilities against discrimination
at work and in their communities just as they do people with other
illnesses and disabilities. These protections must be maintained
and expanded.
No
one suffering from a mental disorder should feel alone or ashamed.
One in five Americans has a mental illness, and millions more
experience mental health challenges as they deal with grief, stress
and the everyday struggles of life. Mental illnesses skip across
socioeconomic boundaries, afflicting young and old alike in every
community, ethnic group and income category.
The
World Health Organization reports that depression is among the
leading causes of disability worldwide. It estimates that reduced
productivity and missed work days due to depression cost the U.S.
economy about $44 billion a year.
Symptoms
of mental illnesses can vary widely based on the disorder and
individual responses. People experience mental health challenges
in their own way. Because of this and the fear many people have
about admitting their symptoms, it can be difficult to spot early
signs. But if you find you have lost interest in things or activities
that were once important to you, or a loved one seems to be behaving
out of character, you should seek guidance from a medical professional.
Mental illnesses are serious matters and can lead to disability,
suicide and other life-threatening actions.
Many
people think nothing can be done to treat the more severe illnesses,
but major advancements in medicine and community-based rehabilitation
have prompted the development of several new and effective treatment
options. Studies show that treatments for depression -- which
affects more than 19 million Americans -- are effective in nearly
80 percent of those seeking care. It is unfortunate, then, that
only half of those with this disorder seek treatment.
All
of us should be concerned and should pledge to increase mental
health awareness until the stigma vanishes and mental illnesses
are viewed simply as illnesses like any other. Hopefully, the
time will come soon when the millions of our fellow citizens who
need help seek it and receive effective treatments that place
them on the path to recovery.
ROSALYNN
CARTER is a former first lady who continues today her work to
combat the stigma against mental illness through the Carter Center's
Mental Health Program.
Mental Health
Crain’s Health Pulse, May 30,
2006
New
York City police are getting professional help in dealing with
911 calls involving the mentally ill. LifeNet, a $2 million program
run by the Mental Health Association of New York City using city
funds, enables police officers or ambulance crews to call for
intervention from paid mental health workers. Officers are also
routinely giving cards with LifeNet’s number to family members
of emotionally disturbed patients. The aim is to get callers appropriate
services and to reduce ED visits. Call volume reached 6,000 last
month; 98% of the callers used a card given them by an officer,
a spokeswoman for MHANYC says. The police also contacted LifeNet
directly 600 times to get assistance at the scene of 911 calls.
Insurance Parity Needed.
By Janet Susin
Long Island Newsday Letter to the Editor, May 30, 2006
Regarding
"Time for parity for mentally ill" [Editorial, May 19]:
Most people don't know that there is a separate and very unequal
category of insurance coverage for mental health until they find
it out the hard way - at the emergency room. There, they learn
to their horror about the severe limitations on hospital stays
and outpatient visits as well as inequitable co-pays and deductibles
embedded in the fine print of their health insurance policies.
This
discovery, made by hundreds of thousands of New Yorkers every
year, often triggers a downward financial spiral as families struggle
to pay for the care their loved ones desperately need, forcing
some to take out large loans, sell their houses and, most tragically,
give up custody of their children to the state to get the needed
care.
State
senators in Nassau continue to turn a deaf ear to the pain of
their constituents, listening only to misinformed small business
lobbyists arguing that parity will drive them out of business.
What they fail to factor in is the cost of not passing Timothy's
Law. Alleviating the cost of low productivity, tardiness, absenteeism
and turnover caused by untreated or undertreated mental health
and addictive disorders would more than compensate for the additional
modest $15 a month increase in insurance premiums you estimate
in your editorial.
Above
all, the cost in human suffering is too great to continue to ignore
the one out of four people struggling with some of the most disabling
of all known illnesses.
Editor's
note: The writer is Queens-Nassau president of the National Alliance
on Mental Illness.