Folx picked up $25 million from firms including Bessemer Venture Partners, a backer of Pinterest, LinkedIn, and Yelp-it’s offered HRT in 17 states since January and is expanding to include skin- and hair-care products. Plume launched in 2019 with $14 million from funders like Craft Ventures, a backer of Elon Musk’s SpaceX it’s available in 33 states. Everyone is trying to cash in, from Amazon’s recent investments in health care startups to Apple’s attempts to build its own primary care service. Unlike federally subsidized brick-and-mortar clinics, these digital outfits are backed by venture capital, which sees a lucrative opportunity in the pandemic-driven telemedicine boom. Trans telehealth services believe they can change that-and turn a profit. According to a 2015 study, a third of trans people report that health care providers have harassed them or denied them treatment on the basis of their gender identity. It’s a niche market aimed at eliminating the barriers trans people face to accessing healthcare. Plume is one of dozens of telehealth services catering to trans clients that have cropped up in the last two years. That night, Felicity picked up her first dose. Later that day, Plume connected her with a local physician who prescribed her estrogen and dutasteride, a testosterone blocker.
They asked her a few questions and chatted about hormone replacement therapy (HRT) options. Three days after she paid the $99-per-month subscription fee, Felicity met by video with a team of clinicians. Scrolling through Twitter one night, Felicity read about Plume, a new subscription telehealth service that makes it easier for trans people to access hormones, lab work, and letters for surgeries and name changes. She “called them every day” and still couldn’t get on the waitlist.
But the pandemic meant waitlists were backlogged for months, forcing Felicity to wait at least until March for a consultation and likely longer to begin taking estrogen. At the start of 2021, she spent weeks calling Planned Parenthoods in Fort Worth, Texas, where she and her spouse live. “It was an attempt to break from who I was and who I grew up as,” she told me on the drive to her trucking company’s office. The 36-year-old trucker changed her name, adopted the middle name Saoirse- freedom in Gaelic-and started looking into transitioning medically.
#Folx health insurance free
doi:10.1080/ disinformation: Sign up for the free Mother Jones Daily newsletter and follow the news that matters.īy August, Felicity Giles knew it was time. Cultural factors influencing mental health help-seeking attitudes among Black English-Speaking Caribbean immigrants in the United States and Britain. Yorke C, Voisin D, Berringer K, Alexander L. I Didn’t Ask to Come to this Country…I was a Child: The Mental Health Implications of Growing Up Undocumented. Stacciarini J, Smith R, Wiens B, Pérez A, Locke B, LaFlam M. Identifying Essential Components of School‐Linked Mental Health Services for Refugee and Immigrant Children: A Comparative Case Study. McNeely C, Sprecher K, Bates‐Fredi D, Price O, Allen C. Effects of Nativity, Length of Residence, and County-Level Foreign-Born Density on Mental Health Among Older Adults in the U.S. Mental Health Service Use Among Immigrants in the United States: A Systematic Review. Mental Health in Immigrants Versus Native Population: A Systematic Review of the Literature. Pew Research Center.īas-Sarmiento P, Saucedo-Moreno M, Fernández-Gutiérrez M, Poza-Méndez M.
0 kommentar(er)
