Ahmeir’s preschool teacher relayed her concerns to his mother, Kanika Thornton, who was already worried about Ahmeir’s refusal to eat anything but yogurt, Chef Boyardee spaghetti, oatmeal, and applesauce. He also sometimes hit himself and others to cope with the frustration of not being able to communicate, she said.

Thornton took her son, who is on Medi-Cal, California’s Medicaid program, which covers low-income families, to his pediatrician. Then he was evaluated by a school district official, a speech therapist, and the pediatrician — again. Along the way, Thornton consulted teachers, case managers, and social service workers.

Ten months later, she still doesn’t have an accurate diagnosis for Ahmeir.

“I felt like I failed my child, and I don’t want to feel that,” said Thornton, 30, who has been juggling Ahmeir’s behavior and appointments on top of her pregnancy and caring for her two other children.

“Some days I don’t eat because he doesn’t eat,” said Thornton from her home in Alameda County in the San Francisco Bay Area. “I don’t want to hurt my unborn child. So I try to eat some crackers and cheese and stuff, but I don’t eat a meal because he doesn’t eat a meal.”

Seeking a diagnosis for a child’s behavioral problems can be challenging for any family as they navigate complicated medical and educational systems that don’t communicate effectively with parents, let alone each other.

A common obstacle families face is landing an appointment with one of a limited number of developmental specialists. It is particularly difficult for families with Medi-Cal, whose access to specialists is even more restricted than for patients with private insurance.

As they await their turn, they boomerang among counselors, therapists, and school officials who address isolated symptoms, often without making progress toward an overall diagnosis.

Obtaining a timely diagnosis for autism, anxiety, attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, or other behavioral disorders is important for children and their parents, said Christina Buysse, a clinical associate professor in developmental and behavioral pediatrics at Stanford University.

“Parent stress levels go down when a child is diagnosed early,” because they learn how to manage their child’s behaviors, she said.

Intervening early can also help retrain a child’s brain quickly and avoid lifelong consequences of developmental delays, said Adiaha Spinks-Franklin, president of the Society for Developmental and Behavioral Pediatrics.

“A speech and language delay at the age of 2 can put a child at risk of reading comprehension problems in the third grade,” she said.

Buysse is likely the right type of medical specialist for Ahmeir. As a developmental-behavioral pediatrician, she can often unify different symptoms into one diagnosis, and she knows what kind of therapy or medication patients need.

The Society for Developmental and Behavioral Pediatrics reports that there are actively certified developmental specialists in the nation.

“There just aren’t enough of us,” Buysse said, and some developmental specialists don’t accept Medicaid patients because they believe the reimbursement rates aren’t adequate.

Thornton didn’t know her son needed to see a developmental specialist, and he had never been referred to one, despite his many medical appointments. Once she learned about this type of specialist in May, she asked his pediatrician for a referral.

Alameda Health System, which provides Ahmeir’s primary care, “does not have a developmental-behavioral pediatrician on staff at this time,” said Porshia Mack, the system’s associate chief medical officer of ambulatory services.

“We have made efforts to hire them, but recruiting and retaining pediatric subspecialists is difficult for all health systems, and public safety-net systems in particular,” she said.

Karina Rivera, a spokesperson for the Alameda Alliance for Health, Thornton’s Medi-Cal managed care plan, provided a list of nine developmental-behavioral pediatricians she said are in the plan’s network.

However, the only two in Alameda County work for Kaiser Permanente, which “is a closed system,” acknowledged Donna Carey, interim chief medical officer of the Alameda Alliance. In practice, that means “even if they have a developmental pediatrician, we don’t have access to that pediatrician,” she said.

The other seven specialists are in surrounding counties, which could pose transportation challenges for Thornton and other patients.

The Alameda Alliance for Health met state requirements for patient access to specialists in the most recent review of its network, in 2022, said Department of Health Care Services spokesperson Griselda Melgoza. The plan “was found compliant with all time or distance standards,” she said.

However, after learning from California Healthline that the plan considers Kaiser Permanente specialists part of its network, the department contacted the insurer to inquire, and will work with it “to ensure member-facing materials accurately represent their current network,” Melgoza said.

A month after starting preschool in fall 2023, Ahmeir was evaluated for speech delay through his school district. His pediatrician also began ordering tests to understand his eating habits.

But Thornton believes Ahmeir’s symptoms aren’t isolated problems that can be addressed in a piecemeal fashion. “It’s just something else. It’s his development,” she said. “I know a tantrum, but he doesn’t get tantrums. He will hit people. That’s a no-go.”

In addition to addressing medical concerns, a developmental specialist could help parents like Thornton understand what school districts offer and how to expedite school evaluations, Spinks-Franklin said. Ahmeir faces a six- to eight-month wait for a comprehensive evaluation through his school district for additional services, Thornton said.

It’s common for parents to get confused about what a school district can and can’t do for kids with developmental disabilities, said Corina Samaniego, who works at Family Resource Navigators, an organization that helps parents like Thornton in Alameda County. For instance, Samaniego said, school districts cannot provide medical diagnoses of autism, nor the therapy to address it.

Ahmeir has made significant improvement with speech therapy provided through the school district, Thornton said, and now speaks in full sentences more often. But she remains frustrated that she does not have a diagnosis that explains his persistent symptoms, especially his reluctance to eat and difficulty expressing emotions.

Thornton believes she has done everything she can to help him. She has even created elaborate food landscapes for Ahmeir with dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, mashed potato volcanoes, gravy lava, and broccoli trees — only to have him turn his head away.

As of late May, she continued to seek advice from teachers and counselors while she waited for an appointment with a specialist.

“I try to stay strong for my son and do the best I can and be there for him, talk to him, teach him things,” she said. “It’s been really tough.”

This article is part of “,” a California Healthline series exploring the impact of the state’s safety-net health program on enrollees.

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Ravera, an ER nurse at Sutter Medical Center in Sacramento, recalled an incident in which an agitated patient wanted to leave. “Without any warning he just reached up, grabbed my glasses, and punched me in the face,” said Ravera, 54. “And then he was getting ready to attack another patient in the room.” Ravera and hospital security guards subdued the patient so he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Violence against health care workers is on the rise, including in the ER, where tensions can run high as staff juggle multiple urgent tasks. Covid-19 only made things worse: With routine care harder to come by, many patients ended up in the ER with serious diseases — and brimming with frustrations.

In California, simple assault against workers inside an ER is considered the same as simple assault against almost anyone else, and carries a maximum punishment of a $1,000 fine and six months in jail. In contrast, simple assault against emergency medical workers in the field, such as an EMT responding to a 911 call, carries maximum penalties of a $2,000 fine and a year in jail. Simple assault does not involve the use of a deadly weapon or the intention to inflict serious bodily injury.

State Assembly member Freddie Rodriguez, who worked as an EMT, has authored a bill to make the punishments consistent: a $2,000 fine and one year in jail for simple assault on any on-the-job emergency health care worker, whether in the field or an ER. The measure would also eliminate the discrepancy for simple battery.

Patients and family members are assaulting staff and “doing things they shouldn’t be doing to the people that are there to take care of your loved ones,” said Rodriguez, a Democrat from Pomona. The bill passed the state Assembly unanimously in January and awaits consideration in the Senate.

Rodriguez has introduced similar measures twice before. Then-Gov. Jerry Brown vetoed one in 2015, saying he doubted a longer jail sentence would deter violence. “We need to find more creative ways to protect the safety of these critical workers,” he wrote in his veto message. The 2019 bill died in the state Senate.

Rodriguez said ERs have become more dangerous for health care workers since then and that “there has to be accountability” for violent behavior. Opponents fear stiffer penalties would be levied disproportionately on patients of color or those with developmental disabilities. They also point out that violent patients can already face penalties under existing assault and battery laws.

Data from the California Division of Occupational Safety and Health shows that reported attacks on ER workers by patients, visitors, and strangers jumped about 25% from 2018 to 2023, from 2,587 to 3,238. The rate of attacks per 100,000 ER visits also increased.

Punching, kicking, pushing, and similar aggression accounted for most of the attacks. Only a small number included weapons.

These numbers are likely an undercount, said Al’ai Alvarez, an ER doctor and clinical associate professor at Stanford University’s Department of Emergency Medicine. Many hospital staffers don’t fill out workplace violence reports because they don’t have time or feel nothing will come of it, he said.

Ravera remembers when her community rallied around health care workers at the start of the pandemic, acting respectfully and bringing food and extra N95 masks to workers.

“Then something just switched,” she said. “The patients became angrier and more aggressive.”

Violence can contribute to burnout and drive workers to quit — or worse, said Alvarez, who has lost colleagues to suicide, and thinks burnout was a key factor. “The cost of burnout is more than just loss of productivity,” he said. “It's loss of human beings that also had the potential to take care of many more people.”

The National Center for Health Workforce Analysis projects California will experience an 18% shortage of all types of nurses in 2035, the third worst in the country.

Federal legislation called the Safety From Violence for Healthcare Employees Act would set sentences of up to 10 years for assault against a health care worker, not limited to emergency workers, and up to 20 years in cases involving dangerous weapons or bodily injury. Though it was introduced in 2023, it has not yet had a committee hearing.

Opponents of the California bill, which include , the California Public Defenders Association, and advocates for people with autism, argue it wouldn’t deter attacks — and would unfairly target certain patients.

“There's no evidence to suggest that increased penalties are going to meaningfully address this conduct,” said Eric Henderson, a legislative advocate for ACLU California Action. “Most importantly, there are already laws on the books to address assaultive conduct.”

Beth Burt, executive director of the , said the measure doesn’t take into account the special needs of people with autism and other developmental disorders.

The smells, lights, textures, and crowds in the ER can overstimulate a person with autism, she said. When that happens, they can struggle to articulate their feelings, which can result in a violent outburst, “whether it’s a 9-year-old or a 29-year-old,” Burt said.

She worries that hospital staff may misunderstand these reactions, and involve law enforcement when it’s not necessary. As “a parent, it is still my worst fear” that she’ll get a phone call to inform her that her adult son with autism has been arrested, she said.

Burt would rather the state prioritize de-escalation programs over penalties, such as the training programs for first responders she helped create through the Autism Society Inland Empire. After implementing the training, hospital administrators asked Burt to share some strategies with them, she said. Hospital security staffers who do not want to use physical restraints on autistic patients have also sought her advice, she said.

Supporters of the bill, including health care and law enforcement groups, counter that people with mental health conditions or autism who are charged with assault in an ER may be eligible for existing programs that provide mental health treatment in lieu of a criminal sentence.

Stephanie Jensen, an ER nurse and head of governmental affairs for the Emergency Nurses Association, California State Council, said her organization is simply arguing for equity. “If you punch me in the hospital, it’s the same as if you punch me on the street,” she said.

If lawmakers don’t act, she warned, there won’t be enough workers for the patients who need them.

“It’s hard to keep those human resources accessible when it just seems like you’re showing up to get beat up every day,” Jensen said. “The emergency department is taking it on the chin, literally and figuratively.”

This article was produced by ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News, which publishes , an editorially independent service of the .Ìý

ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about .

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This story can be republished for free (details).