Hospital 366 Days: Insulin Costs $35 a Month (Case No. 31)

⏱ 15 min read

Type 1.5 diabetes and insulin access: a 66-year-old woman brought to the emergency room in diabetic ketoacidosis after her insulin ran out

Hospital 366 Days · Case No. 31

Medically reviewed by Eleanor Hayes, M.D.: Hospitalist, board-certified in Family Medicine. Licensed in Florida and several other U.S. states. Reviewed on August 6, 2026 for medical and clinical accuracy. Clinical figures and guideline references reflect publicly available sources cited within the article.

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The hospital’s year does not end at 365. It runs to 366, and keeps going.

Call her Pearl. Age, location, and any potentially identifying facts have been changed. The clinical pattern is a composite reconstructed from cases hospitals see repeatedly, and it does not represent any specific patient.

Type 1.5 diabetes is not the middle setting between type 1 and type 2, whatever the name suggests. It is an autoimmune diabetes that begins in adulthood, moves slowly, and ends in a place where a person cannot get through a day without insulin. Pearl had not gotten through several.

She was 66. The ambulance brought her in.

Three lines went on the intake sheet: vomiting, diarrhea, high blood sugar. When the nurse asked when her last insulin dose had been, Pearl could not answer. Yesterday, last week, she did not know. It was not evasion. She did not know.

Type 1.5 Diabetes and the Eight Months That Kept Repeating

Over the previous eight months, Pearl had been in this building every month, or at worst every other month.

The diagnosis on the chart shifted slightly each time. Diabetic ketoacidosis. Hyperglycemia. Hypoglycemia. Osteomyelitis. Gangrene. And last fall, two toes off her left foot.

She did not attend clinic. A referral slip for a low-cost community clinic went home with her at every discharge. There is no record of her arriving at one. Her insulin came from the emergency department.

Asked where she lived, she said a shelter. Whether that meant the same place each time, the chart cannot say.

She needed a change of clothes on arrival. She had not been able to control her bowels.

That is not unusual in an emergency department, and less unusual in older patients. What made it worth writing down is that it was not the first time. She said she normally used adult incontinence supplies. Those had run out too.

In a person with long-standing diabetes, incontinence is not an accident. It is the end of a nerve, and the same nerve damage that loosens bowel control is the one that produces vomiting and diarrhea. The first three lines of her intake sheet and the change of clothes were not separate events. They came from one place.

And here a second layer appears. Incontinence supplies are not medicine. No prescription obtains them. Original Medicare does not cover incontinence supplies or adult diapers, and the patient pays 100 percent. Nor can food assistance reach them: USDA rules exclude nonfood items including paper products, hygiene items, and household supplies from SNAP purchases.

Insulin has a legal ceiling of $35 a month. This has none.

So the two run out in the same month, because both require the same three things every month: cash, a place to store them, and a store a person can actually reach. The emergency record lists them side by side, one as clinical information and one as household supply. To the patient, that distinction does not exist.

Why a $35 Prescription and a 512 Glucose Told Different Stories

Two things pulled at the eye first, and the one that mattered was neither.

Vitals and labs. The glucometer read HI, meaning the number was past what it could display. The venous draw came back at 512. Venous pH 7.19, bicarbonate 11, anion gap 22. Beta-hydroxybutyrate 5.8. A1c 12.4 percent. Creatinine 1.6. White count 14.2.

History. High blood pressure. High cholesterol. Insulin-dependent Type 1.5 diabetes. A history of polysubstance use. Two toes amputated from the left foot last fall following bone infection and gangrene.

Skin. Scabs and lesions across the arms, legs, face, neck, chest, and abdomen, some fresh and some older. No cause was established this visit. No urine toxicology was sent. An earlier admission record carries a positive cocaine screen. She denied tobacco, alcohol, and drug use.

And one question with no answer. When did the insulin run out. Nothing in the chart resolves it, and the absence is the most important entry on the page.

Insulin costs $35 a month. It has since 2023. Under federal law, Medicare enrollees pay no more than $35 per month for each covered insulin product, and all three major manufacturers run programs extending the same figure to people with no insurance at all.

So the reason Pearl arrived by ambulance is not going to be found in the price of the drug.

The team was called. She was admitted to the hospitalist service: to correct the ketoacidosis, to look for a source of infection, and to reassess the foot. Sixth admission in eight months.

Marker This Case Why It Draws Attention
Blood glucose 512 mg/dL Points to a stretch of time with no insulin reaching the body at all.
Venous pH 7.19 The blood has tipped acidic, which is what confirms ketoacidosis.
Anion gap 22 A measure of accumulated ketones, and the number the team watches close.
A1c 12.4% A record of blood sugar running high across the whole preceding season.
Creatinine 1.6 mg/dL Suggests dehydration and strain on the kidneys together.
Potassium 5.2, then 3.4 Falls quickly once insulin starts, so it is watched hour by hour.

The glucose drew the eye. The answer sat with the question nobody could answer.

Ketoacidosis is not a cause. It is a result. What a team looks for in a pattern like this is what came between the person and the insulin, and that answer does not print on a lab report.

Plain-Language Reference

Term What It Means in Plain Language
Type 1.5 diabetes (LADA) Autoimmune diabetes that starts in adulthood, looks like type 2 at first, and ends in insulin dependence.
Diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) An emergency in which too little insulin drives fat breakdown and turns the blood acidic.
Ketones The backup fuel the body burns without insulin, which turns the blood acidic as it builds.
Beta-hydroxybutyrate The main ketone measured directly in the blood.
Anion gap A calculation showing how much unmeasured acid has built up in the blood.
A1c A number reflecting average blood sugar over the past two to three months.
GAD autoantibody The antibody checked to identify autoimmune diabetes in an adult.
Basal-bolus insulin The standard approach of a background insulin plus doses at meals.
Autonomic neuropathy Damage to the nerves that run the gut, bladder, blood vessels, and heart rate.
Gastroparesis A stomach that empties too slowly, causing repeated nausea and vomiting.
Diabetic diarrhea Repeated diarrhea from lost rhythm in the bowel, often worse at night.
Fecal incontinence Loss of the ability to hold stool until an appropriate time.
Osteomyelitis An infection that has reached the bone.
Minor amputation An amputation below the ankle, which is where toe amputations are counted.
Formication The sensation of something crawling beneath the skin.

From the Reviewer · Eleanor Hayes, M.D.

(A) What Type 1.5 diabetes actually is

Most diabetes diagnosed in adulthood gets filed as type 2. A portion of it is autoimmune instead. The immune system works its way through the cells that make insulin, and over several years that capacity disappears. The international criteria are three: onset after age 30, positive islet autoantibodies, and no need for insulin during the first six months after diagnosis.

The difficulty is that oral medication works reasonably well in the early years, which is exactly what makes the label stick. Estimates put the share of adults labeled type 2 who actually have this condition at roughly 4 to 14 percent. In cases like this, the correction arrives only when control fails, and complications have often set up house by then.

(B) Three different events hiding in one sentence

“I ran out of insulin” is said several times a day in any emergency department. At least three distinct situations sit inside it. The prescription was never filled. It was filled and then lost. Or it was filled, kept, injected, and did not work.

Each calls for a different response. The first is a pharmacy and prescription problem. The second is a storage problem. The third means the drug itself degraded. All three land on the chart as the same line. In patients in this pattern, splitting that line into three questions is where the work of preventing the next admission starts.

(C) Insulin and temperature

Insulin is a protein, and proteins come apart in heat. Once the structure loosens, the molecule no longer binds where it needs to bind. The FDA states that insulin in vials or cartridges, opened or unopened, may be left unrefrigerated between 59 and 86 degrees Fahrenheit for up to 28 days, and that potency falls with exposure to extreme temperature, with longer exposure meaning greater loss. Unopened product belongs at 36 to 46 degrees.

Those figures were written for someone who lives indoors. Remove that assumption and the same dose stops producing the same effect. In cases like this, a patient can inject exactly as instructed, watch the numbers climb anyway, and end up with a chart entry about adherence.

(D) Not being able to answer is itself a finding

Once “poor historian” appears in a chart, everything downstream tilts. But in a cohort of adults with recurrent ketoacidosis, insulin discontinuation was the precipitant in 68 percent of cases, and among those who stopped, 32 percent could give no reason at all. Money accounted for 27 percent, being away from the supply 19 percent, and stretching doses 15 percent.

High blood sugar clouds thinking, and repeated crises break memory into pieces. When history-taking stops working in a patient like this, the productive move is to go find the history somewhere else: fill records, labs from prior admissions, pharmacy data. The same difficulty of reconstructing what a patient actually took runs through a case of heart failure and missed doses.

(E) Vomiting, diarrhea, and incontinence come from one nerve

Long-standing diabetes damages the autonomic nerves, which govern heart rate, blood pressure, sweating, the bladder, and the movement of the gut. The longer blood sugar runs high, the earlier those fibers give out.

Damage high in the tract slows stomach emptying. Food sits for hours, nausea and vomiting repeat, and because nobody can predict when or how much a person will eat, insulin dosing becomes guesswork. Damage lower down breaks the rhythm of the bowel, producing the pattern called diabetic diarrhea, characteristically worse at night. Further down still, the nerves serving rectal sensation and the anal sphincter are affected, and the ability to hold stool goes with them.

So in patients in this pattern, vomiting and diarrhea and incontinence are three branches of one root rather than three problems. And the branches feed back into the trunk. Vomiting and diarrhea produce dehydration, dehydration accelerates ketoacidosis, erratic intake makes dosing harder, sugar climbs higher, and the nerve damage advances.

(F) Incontinence is a medical problem and a supply problem

The incontinence itself is a diagnosis. Living a day with it is logistics. It takes several disposable products daily, a change of clothing, and somewhere to wash.

This is where the structure of American coverage becomes visible. Absorbent incontinence products are not drugs, so no prescription obtains them, and Original Medicare excludes them outright. Some state Medicaid programs cover them, with rules and applications that differ by state. Food assistance cannot reach them either, because the program is limited to food.

So for a patient in this position, incontinence demands cash, storage, and a reachable store every single month. Those are the identical requirements insulin makes. When incontinence management fails, skin breakdown, urinary infection, and social withdrawal tend to follow together. In cases like this, checking whether the obstacle is procurement rather than motivation is the more useful first step. The financial side of that calculation runs through the wider pattern of Americans skipping medical care because of cost.

(G) Housing instability and glycemic emergencies

In a population-based cohort, people with a history of homelessness presented with ketoacidosis at 40.3 events per 1,000 person-years against 8.2 in those without. Hypoglycemia presentations ran 2.62 times higher and non-ketotic hyperglycemia 2.72 times higher.

The authors attributed the gap to difficulty taking medications at regular times and to difficulty storing insulin or reaching it when needed. The gap is not produced by more severe disease. It is produced by different conditions around the same disease. Same diagnosis, same prescription, different result.

(H) Stimulant use and repeat ketoacidosis

In one city hospital cohort, active cocaine use was an independent risk factor for recurrent ketoacidosis with an odds ratio of 4.38. Two pathways are proposed. One is physiologic: cocaine raises catecholamines, which act against insulin, pushing glucose up and ketone production along with it.

The other is behavioral. In a separate case-control study, cocaine users had missed insulin before admission in 45.1 percent of cases against 24.7 percent of controls, while an identifiable precipitating illness was found in only 14.7 percent. Nothing arrived from outside to cause it. What was missing caused it. In patients in this pattern, a urine toxicology screen carries diagnostic weight rather than merely documentary weight.

(I) Reading the skin

Scabs of varying age spread across the limbs, face, and trunk open a long differential. Wound healing runs slow in diabetes because circulation is reduced and the immune response is blunted, so small breaks in the skin persist far longer than they would otherwise.

Stimulant use produces formication, the sensation of movement beneath the skin, which drives repetitive picking with a characteristic distribution on the face and arms. When both are present, telling them apart on inspection alone is not realistic. Absent the toxicology screen, the same question simply reopens at the next admission, and the answer stays out of reach for another cycle.

(J) What two toes mean

A toe amputation is classified as minor. That word describes the extent of the operation, not what follows it. A meta-analysis of nearly 17,000 patients found mortality after minor lower-extremity amputation at 20 percent at one year and 44.1 percent at five, and a systematic review put re-amputation at 20.14 percent at one year and 45.72 percent at five.

A population-based cohort found that 10.7 percent went on to a major amputation on the same side within the first year, with 49.4 percent dead by five. The strongest point of intervention on that path is not after the amputation. It is before the ulcer, and that point sits in a clinic rather than an emergency department. How quietly the same trajectory can build in someone with nobody watching shows up in a welfare check on an older man living alone, and how metabolic disorder can present as something else entirely shows up in a case of metabolic encephalopathy.

(K) A closing thought

A prescription is not a treatment plan. It is the summary of one. For the summary to hold, the omitted parts have to exist: a refrigerator, an address, a clock, a way to reach a pharmacy, clean clothes, and the assumption that next month will find you in roughly the same place. What was missing for a patient in this position is not the drug. It is the omitted part, and the omitted part is never written down. An emergency department can hand someone insulin. It cannot hand them a refrigerator. Finding that sentence uncomfortable may be the only honest response available to it.

What Type 1.5 Diabetes Costs, and Who Pays

A night like Pearl’s is not one bill. It is several, arriving over weeks, and the division between patient and payer depends heavily on coverage.

Cost Scenario Estimated Figure Who Carries It
No insurance (ambulance + ER + DKA admission) ~$15,000 to $30,000+ Patient
Private insurance (out-of-pocket) ~$2,000 to $6,000 Patient share
Medicare (if eligible) Mostly covered Part A deductible + share

Figures are broad estimates that vary widely by hospital, plan, region, and length of stay. They are illustrative, not a quote.

In the National Inpatient Sample, mean hospital charges for a ketoacidosis admission reached $26,566 per admission. That is charges, not what anyone actually paid.

Over the same span, insulin was $35 a month. Eight months of it comes to $280. Six admissions priced at that average run to roughly $159,000. The two figures sit about 568 times apart.

One line never reaches the table. Incontinence supplies are not a coverage item; they are a living expense. At $50 to $100 a month, eight months comes to $400 to $800, which is more than the insulin, and there is no $35 ceiling anywhere near it.

Nor does the cost stop at one visit. In national data, 33.7 percent of people admitted with ketoacidosis had already had an episode within the prior year, with up to 22 percent readmitted within 30 days.

Tools for Reading Your Own Numbers

Before a clinic runs its own workup, three calculators that frame blood-panel, body-composition, and longevity numbers against age-matched references.

· Blood Work Decoder (Blood Panel Reader)
· Body Truth Calculator (Body Composition Check)
· Life Calculator (Longevity Estimate)

Pearl went home three days later with an insulin prescription and a referral slip for a low-cost clinic. The same two pieces of paper she had received six times in eight months.

No single piece of this stood alone. Type 1.5 diabetes gets recognized late because it wears the face of something more common. The price of insulin had already come down. The prescriptions went out every time. And the result kept returning to the same place, because what was missing was never the medication but the conditions the medication needs in order to work.

The American safety net is largely built around events. Events get handled. The 28 days between one event and the next belong to nobody in particular, and 28 days is exactly how long a vial of insulin lasts at room temperature.


Names and identifying details in this case have been altered to protect privacy. The case is a composite reconstructed from publicly reported clinical patterns and does not represent any specific patient. This content is for general information only and is not medical advice, and reading it creates no provider-patient relationship. If you use insulin and are having trouble obtaining, storing, or taking it, or if you have symptoms such as persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, or confusion, this is a medical matter to raise promptly with a qualified licensed professional or emergency care.

Take care of yourself. Nobody else will do it for you.

For men who'd rather know than believe

A weekly briefing for men taking the second half seriously.
Friday mornings. Five-minute read. No fluff.

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