How COVID-19 Disrupted Drug Availability and Made Medications Harder to Get

How COVID-19 Disrupted Drug Availability and Made Medications Harder to Get

When the pandemic hit, most people worried about masks, ventilators, and hospital beds. But behind the scenes, something quieter but just as dangerous was happening: drug shortages started popping up everywhere. Insulin. Antibiotics. Blood pressure pills. Even basic painkillers. People didn’t just struggle to find them-they had to ration, delay doses, or switch to riskier alternatives. And it wasn’t just prescription meds. The illegal drug market collapsed, too, pushing people toward deadlier substances like fentanyl. This wasn’t a glitch. It was a system breaking down.

Why Did Medications Vanish Overnight?

The problem wasn’t that factories stopped making drugs. It was that the whole chain-raw ingredients, shipping, packaging, distribution-got tangled. Most of the active ingredients in pills and injections come from just two countries: China and India. When lockdowns hit there in early 2020, production slowed. Trucks couldn’t move. Ports backed up. By February to April 2020, nearly one in three drug supply reports turned into actual shortages. That’s a five-fold jump from normal levels.

Some of the hardest-hit drugs were the ones you’d expect in a crisis: sedatives for ICU patients, antibiotics for secondary infections, and steroids used to treat severe COVID-19. But it wasn’t just hospital drugs. Generic medications-cheaper, everyday pills like metformin or amoxicillin-also disappeared. Why? Because manufacturers make less profit on generics. When costs rise and demand gets unpredictable, they cut back. The FDA stepped in by fast-tracking inspections and pushing companies to report issues earlier. By May 2020, the worst of the shortages started to ease. But the cracks stayed.

The Illicit Drug Market Turned Deadly

While prescription drugs got harder to find, illegal drugs became more dangerous. With borders closed and traditional supply routes broken, traffickers didn’t stop selling-they just made their products stronger. Fentanyl, a synthetic opioid 50 to 100 times more powerful than heroin, started showing up in cocaine, meth, and even fake pills sold as oxycodone. Users didn’t know what they were taking. One Reddit user in June 2020 described it this way: “The street supply got weird after lockdowns started-people were getting knocked out by doses that used to be normal.”

The result? Overdose deaths exploded. From May 2019 to April 2020, about 77,000 Americans died from drug overdoses. The next year? Nearly 98,000. That’s a 27% jump in just 12 months. States like West Virginia, Kentucky, and Vermont saw increases over 50%. In places with strong harm reduction programs, naloxone distribution rose by 30% in 2020. But for many, help was too late-or too hard to reach.

Telehealth Helped Some, Left Others Behind

On the treatment side, things got messy fast. People with opioid use disorder suddenly lost access to in-person counseling, support groups, and supervised dosing. But the government moved quickly to let doctors prescribe buprenorphine via video calls and allow take-home methadone doses for longer periods. By April 2020, 95% of buprenorphine prescriptions were done remotely-up from just 13% in February.

That saved lives. One study found Medicare beneficiaries on telehealth treatment were less likely to die from an overdose. But not everyone could use it. Older adults didn’t have smartphones. Rural residents had spotty internet. People without stable housing couldn’t charge devices. A 72-year-old in rural Montana might get a prescription by Zoom, but if she couldn’t get to the pharmacy because her bus route was canceled, the pill might as well not exist. Meanwhile, behavioral health visits dropped 75% among those with private insurance. The safety net tore in places it was needed most.

Man reaching for a pill that turns into a fentanyl skull in a dark alley.

Who Got Left Out?

The pandemic didn’t create inequality-it exposed it. People of color, low-income communities, and those without insurance were hit hardest by both drug shortages and overdose spikes. A person without a regular doctor had no one to call when their blood pressure meds ran out. Someone without a car couldn’t get to a drive-through naloxone station. And stigma kept many from seeking help. One study found that fear of legal consequences or being judged kept people from calling 911 during an overdose.

Harm reduction centers saw their services cut by up to 40% during lockdowns. Needle exchanges shut down. Supervised consumption sites closed. Even when they reopened, staffing was thin. The people who needed help the most were the ones who lost access first.

What’s Still Broken?

Drug shortages from the pandemic are mostly over. But the system hasn’t fixed itself. Manufacturers still rely on overseas suppliers. There’s still no real-time tracking of inventory levels. And no one is paying enough attention to why generics vanish when profits dip. The FDA’s emergency powers helped in 2020, but they were temporary. Without permanent policy changes, the next crisis-whether it’s another pandemic, a war, or a climate disaster-will hit just as hard.

Meanwhile, overdose deaths keep climbing. In 2022, over 107,000 people died from drug overdoses in the U.S. That’s more than the number of people who died in car crashes or gun violence that year. Fentanyl is still everywhere. Treatment access is still uneven. And the mental health toll from isolation, grief, and economic stress hasn’t faded.

Elderly woman on video call while prescription sits unused at a bus stop.

What Can Be Done?

There are solutions, but they need action, not just talk. First, the U.S. needs to build domestic capacity for critical drug ingredients-not just for national security, but for public health. Second, supply chains need real-time transparency. If a pharmacy knows a drug is running low, they can alert patients early. Third, harm reduction services must be permanently funded and expanded. Drive-through naloxone, mobile clinics, and peer support networks saved lives during the pandemic-they should be standard now.

Telehealth for addiction treatment should stay. But it can’t replace in-person care. We need hybrid models: video check-ins for stable patients, with easy access to face-to-face support for those who need it. And we need to stop treating addiction as a moral failure. It’s a health issue. And health systems that leave people behind during a crisis aren’t systems-they’re traps.

What This Means for You

If you take regular medication, keep a 30-day supply on hand if you can. Talk to your pharmacist about alternatives if your usual drug is unavailable. Don’t wait until you’re out to ask. If you or someone you know uses drugs, carry naloxone. It’s free in many places. Know the signs of an overdose. And if you’re struggling with substance use, reach out-even if it’s just a text to a friend. You’re not alone.

The pandemic didn’t invent drug shortages or the overdose crisis. It just turned up the volume. The real question isn’t whether we can fix this. It’s whether we’ll choose to.