by Margot Kushel, MD
As the Bay Area is deluged with
the biggest rainstorm in a decade, most of the region’s schools were cancelled
and many workplaces allowed for flexibility, so that people could stay safe and
dry in their homes. Churches and homeless service agencies opened
their doors to provide temporary shelter for members of our community who
are homeless. But the storm of the decade was another blow to those who have
already been struck by the perfect storm of rising housing prices, loss of
support for affordable housing, and lack of availability of living wage jobs for
those without specialized skills.
Evictions have been in the news
a
lot with stories of longtime residents, often elderly, being evicted from
their apartments with nowhere to go. The Bay Area is experiencing a more extreme
version of what is seen throughout the country:
rents are rising at much faster rates than income and the supply of
affordable housing and housing subsidies aren’t
able to match the need. We are seeing larger proportions of people spending
an unsustainable 50% of their income on rent, leading to severe stresses on
other expenses and a high
risk of homelessness. The housing trends are disproportionately affecting
older Americans who have high rates of unemployment and/or fixed incomes that can’t
keep up with housing prices. With a
huge mismatch between housing needs and affordable housing/subsidies, these
trends show no signs of abating. In the Bay Area, with our tech-boom related
gentrification, we are at the center of the storm.
This isn’t news to any of us who
practice at San Francisco General. It is
rare for me to get through a half day of clinic without having at least one of
my (generally older) patients tell me that he or she is at imminent risk of losing
housing. I ask about housing at every
visit because I know that it is hard for my patients to concentrate on much
else when they are worried about what will happen to their homes. And I ask
because I know that losing one’s housing is catastrophic to one’s health.
The terrible effects of homelessness on health are well
documented. Homelessness is stressful:
homeless individuals confront stigma and violence, and constantly must plan
where to find their next meal, restroom, or place to sleep. With severe
food insecurity, difficulty obtaining and keeping medicines, and difficulty
making, getting to and keeping medical appointments, homeless individuals have
a near impossible task of trying to manage chronic illnesses. The environment itself can be
relentless: in addition to being exposed
to the elements, homeless individuals are at high risk of falling victim to
violence. Because homeless individuals
have so little control of their environment, they experience high rates of
unintentional injuries, including burns, falls and pedestrian injuries.
All of these problems are compounded for older adults. The homeless population is aging, with a
median age of approximately
50. While 50 may not sound that old, we know that homeless people, by the
age of 50, have health problems worse than those in their 70s and 80s. With all of these challenges, it is not
surprising that homelessness is associated with high rates of Emergency
Department visits, inpatient hospitalizations and mortality. Simply put, homelessness is devastating to
people’s mental and physical health.
I recently started taking care of
a patient in her 80s who had just spent 3 months in a homeless shelter after
having been evicted from the apartment that she had lived in for 30 years. While homeless, her mild depression became
incapacitating, she had severe incontinence, multiple falls, and her diabetes
spiraled out of control. Once she
regained housing, I was able to do would do what I would for any elderly
patient facing similar challenges. I
sent an occupational and physical therapist into her home and ordered durable
medical equipment to help her reduce her risk of falling (she hasn’t fallen
since), ordered a commode to help her toilet, arranged for wheels on meals to
deliver healthy food to her home, engaged the help of a visiting nurse to help
her get her diabetes under reasonable control, and collaborated with mental
health colleagues to treat her depression (much better, now that she has
housing). Very little of this would
have been possible while she was homeless.
The recognition of the negative
effects of homelessness on health led to the development of an effective
intervention to address chronic homelessness.
Housing First Permanent Supportive Housing (HF-PSH), pioneered in a few
cities (including San Francisco) has been recognized by the US Interagency
Council on Homeless as the primary strategy for ending chronic homelessness. Chronic homelessness, (homeless for at least
a year, or four of more episodes in the prior three years) affects a small
segment of the homeless population; estimates are that approximately 20% of
those who experience homelessness become chronically homeless, but a relatively
large proportion of those who are homeless at any given time. These individuals face the most severe
challenges—they are the most likely to have high rates of substance use and
mental health disorders as well as physical health problems—and are most likely
to benefit from PSH. PSH is subsidized housing with on-site or closely linked
supportive services. “Housing First” means that individuals are housed without
preconditions such as sobriety. Housing
First PSH understands that it is difficult to treat someone’s mental health,
substance use or physical health needs while they are living on the
street. Housing first has been
remarkably successful; while expensive, much of the costs can be offset by
decreased need for institutional care. The dramatic expansion of HF-PSH over
the last five years has led to a decrease in the number of chronically homeless
people in the US
between 2010 and 2013.
Yet, HF PSH was not designed for
people like my 80-something year old patient who became homeless because of the
extraordinary rise in the price of housing in San Francisco. Thanks to PSH, we have seen some real
successes in confronting chronic homelessness, but rates of new homelessness
are wiping out many of the gains we should be seeing. In a study my group is doing on homeless
adults aged 50 and older in Oakland, CA, we have found that 41% of the
participants first experienced homelessness in their 50s, 60s or 70s,
suggesting that these individuals did not have lifelong chronic disabling
conditions common amongst many of the chronically homeless. But, for these individuals, even short
episodes of homelessness are devastating to health. In our city, when older people get evicted,
they often wind up on the streets. Once
they are on the streets, all the things that we try to do for older patients to
keep them safe stop working. Nothing in
my armamentarium is strong enough to overcome the overwhelming negative health
effects of homelessness.
I wish that I could prescribe
housing, as easily as I can prescribe a front wheeled walker or a blood
pressure pill. But I can’t. Small steps,
like having an onsite
medical-legal partnership would allow us to directly refer patients at risk
of losing housing to lawyers to access possible legal remedies. But,
fundamentally, what we need is a better match between the cost of housing and
income, and housing protections for vulnerable individuals. It won’t be easy (if it were, it would have
been done), but I have to believe that if everyone could see what we who work
in the safety net do—that the housing crisis is taking a major toll on the health
of our community-- there would be more political will to seek a solution. Health
care providers can’t and won’t have the answers to this complicated problem,
but we do have front row seats from which to watch the crisis unfold. And, because of that, we have a
responsibility to speak out about the devastating effects that the housing crisis
is having on our patients’ health. Healthcare providers played major roles in
advocating for and designing Housing First Permanent Supportive Housing
interventions to end chronic homelessness.
In the Bay Area, we are sitting in the center of a housing storm that is
affecting many throughout the country.
It is time for us to tell everyone what we know: that it is impossible to keep people healthy
and safe while homeless and that the toll of even short episodes of
homelessness is unacceptably high. For
our patients, affordable housing is the best medicine.
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