How Drug Shortages Are Delaying Treatment and Endangering Patient Care

When a patient needs a life-saving drug and it’s simply not there, the consequences aren’t theoretical-they’re immediate, personal, and sometimes deadly. In 2025, over 250 drugs remained in short supply across the U.S., from antibiotics to cancer therapies to basic IV fluids. These aren’t rare exceptions. They’re the new normal. And every shortage means someone, somewhere, is waiting longer for treatment, taking a riskier substitute, or skipping doses altogether.

What Happens When a Critical Drug Disappears?

Imagine you’re a parent whose child has leukemia. The only drug that can keep the cancer in check is asparaginase. One day, the pharmacy calls: it’s out of stock. No backorder. No estimated restock date. The next available dose might be two weeks away. That delay isn’t just inconvenient-it can mean the difference between remission and relapse. This isn’t a rare scenario. Between 2022 and 2025, shortages of oncology drugs like asparaginase, nelarabine, and vincristine lasted an average of 18 months, with some stretching beyond five years.

The same is true for antibiotics. When meropenem or ceftriaxone runs out, doctors are forced to use older, less effective, or more toxic alternatives. A 2024 study found that 43% of medication errors in hospitals were directly tied to drug shortages-nurses giving the wrong dose because the label was unfamiliar, or pharmacists substituting drugs without full clinical knowledge. These aren’t mistakes from carelessness. They’re mistakes born of desperation.

Who Gets Hurt the Most?

It’s not just cancer patients or ICU cases. Drug shortages ripple through every corner of care. Elderly patients with heart failure need heparin to prevent clots after surgery. When it’s unavailable, hospitals scramble to find alternatives, extending procedure times by 22% and increasing complications. Diabetics rely on insulin-yet even basic insulin formulations have faced intermittent shortages since 2023, forcing patients to ration doses or switch to less reliable brands.

Pediatric care is hit hardest. Kids don’t just need smaller doses-they need specific formulations. A drug that comes in a 10mg tablet might not have a liquid version for toddlers. When that happens, pharmacists have to compound medications from scratch, which takes time, increases cost, and raises the risk of dosing errors. In 2023, pediatric hospitals were monitoring 25% more drug shortages than general hospitals, according to Vizient’s survey of 132 U.S. healthcare facilities.

And then there’s chronic pain. Patients on long-term opioid therapy for conditions like sickle cell disease or severe arthritis face daily refills. When oral morphine or oxycodone disappears, they’re left without relief. Some turn to the street. Others endure unnecessary suffering. The American Hospital Association found that nearly 30% of Americans have skipped or cut their medication due to cost or availability-and that number is rising.

The Hidden Costs: Time, Labor, and System Strain

Behind every shortage is a team of pharmacists, nurses, and administrators working overtime just to keep the lights on. Hospitals now spend an average of 15 to 20 hours per week per drug shortage just tracking inventory, calling suppliers, training staff on alternatives, and rewriting protocols. For pediatric units, that jumps to 25 hours. That’s not a small burden-it’s a full-time job stacked on top of already overloaded shifts.

One hospital pharmacist in Ohio described her week: “On Monday, we ran out of lorazepam for seizure control. Tuesday, we had no heparin for dialysis patients. Wednesday, the last vial of propofol was used in the ER. Thursday, we spent six hours training the entire nursing staff on a new sedative. Friday, we got a call that the IV saline bags we ordered were delayed again.” This isn’t an outlier. It’s routine.

The financial toll is just as heavy. Drug shortages cost U.S. hospitals nearly $900 million annually in extra labor, wasted time, and alternative medications. Add in canceled surgeries, extended hospital stays, and emergency room visits caused by untreated conditions, and the real cost likely exceeds $3 billion a year. And none of that money goes toward healing patients-it goes toward damage control.

Why Are These Shortages Happening?

The problem isn’t random. It’s structural. Over 80% of drug shortages involve generic medications-drugs that cost pennies to make but are sold for just a few dollars. Pharmaceutical companies have little financial incentive to produce them. If a drug sells for $2 a vial and costs $1.80 to make, there’s no profit. So manufacturers shut down production lines. One plant in Puerto Rico that made 40% of the country’s IV saline bags shut down in 2022 after failing FDA inspections. That single event triggered nationwide shortages that lasted over a year.

Global supply chains are another weak point. Raw materials for many drugs come from just two or three countries-India and China. When a factory there faces power outages, regulatory crackdowns, or shipping delays, U.S. hospitals feel it within weeks. The FDA estimates that 47% of shortages trace back to international supply chain issues.

Even when manufacturers want to produce more, they can’t. The FDA’s approval process for new production lines takes 18 to 24 months. There’s no fast track for lifesaving drugs. And even when a new supplier gets approved, hospitals are slow to adopt them due to liability fears and outdated electronic health records that don’t recognize new drug codes.

What’s Being Done-and Why It’s Not Enough

There have been efforts to fix this. In 2023, Congress passed the Drug Shortage Electronic Registration and Notification Act, requiring manufacturers to notify the FDA six months before a potential shortage. That sounds good-until you realize many companies still delay reporting, or claim a shortage is “temporary” when it’s really permanent.

Some hospitals are turning to group purchasing organizations like Vizient, which pool resources to secure inventory across dozens of facilities. Since 2023, these networks have saved members nearly $300 million in avoided inventory costs. But they can’t create drugs that don’t exist. They can only help distribute what’s already made.

A few systems are building automated shortage alert tools that scan pharmacy databases in real time. But these are expensive, complex, and mostly used by large urban hospitals. Rural clinics and small community pharmacies still rely on phone calls and spreadsheets.

The truth? We’re patching a leaky dam with duct tape. We’re managing symptoms, not curing the disease.

What Patients Can Do

You can’t control the supply chain. But you can protect yourself.

• Ask your doctor early: If you’re on a medication that’s commonly in short supply-like insulin, heparin, or certain antibiotics-ask if there’s a backup option. Don’t wait until your prescription runs out.
• Keep a written list: Know the generic and brand names of your meds. Pharmacists need this to find alternatives.
• Call your pharmacy weekly: Don’t assume your drug is in stock. Many shortages are sudden and last only a few days. You might get lucky if you show up just after a delivery.
• Don’t skip doses: If you can’t get your medication, contact your provider immediately. Skipping can lead to dangerous rebounds-like uncontrolled seizures, infections, or heart complications.

The Bigger Picture

Drug shortages aren’t just a pharmacy problem. They’re a public health emergency. Every shortage means someone’s treatment is delayed. Someone’s pain is untreated. Someone’s life is at risk. The numbers tell part of the story: 253 drugs short in 2025, 43% more medication errors, 65% of procedures delayed. But behind each number is a person-maybe your mother, your child, your neighbor.

Until we fix the broken economics of generic drug manufacturing, improve supply chain transparency, and give regulators real power to enforce production, these shortages will keep coming. And every time they do, patients pay the price.

Drug shortages are not a glitch in the system. They’re a symptom of a system that values profit over people. And until that changes, no one is truly safe.