Davila was sick enough that staffers at the local hospital gave her 2 liters of IV fluids and prescribed a daily regimen of vitamins and medication. This will be Davila’s third child and she hopes the nausea means it’s another girl.

Davila had moved back to her hometown of Clayton, New Mexico, so her kids could grow up near family — her dad, aunts, uncles, and cousins all live in this remote community of about 2,800 people in the northeastern corner of the state. But Clayton’s hospital stopped delivering babies more than a decade ago.

Aside from being sick, Davila was worried about making the more than 3½-hour round trip to the closest labor and delivery doctors in the state.

“With gas and kids and just work — having to miss all the time,” Davila said. “It was going to be difficult financially, kind of.”

Then, Davila spotted a billboard advertising the use of telehealth at her local hospital.

In rural regions, having a baby can be particularly fraught. Small-town hospitals face declining local populations and poor reimbursement. Those that don’t shutter often halt obstetric services to save money — even as the number of U.S. mothers who die each year while pregnant or shortly after has hit historic highs, particularly for Black women.

More than half of rural counties lack obstetric care, according to a U.S. Government Accountability Office report released last year. Low Medicaid reimbursement rates and a lack of health workers are some of the biggest challenges, the agency reported. New Mexico Medicaid leaders say 17 of the state’s 33 counties have limited or no obstetric care.

Those realities prompted the Federal Office of Rural Health Policy, which is part of the Health Resources and Services Administration, to launch the Rural Maternity and Obstetrics Management Strategies Program, RMOMS. Ten regional efforts nationwide — including one that serves Davila in northeastern New Mexico — have been awarded federal grants to spend on telehealth and creating networks of hospitals and clinics.

“We’ve never done this sort of work before,” said Tom Morris, associate administrator for the office at HRSA. “We were really testing out a concept … could we improve access?”

After joining the telehealth program, Davila didn’t have to take the afternoon off work for a recent prenatal checkup. She drove less than a mile from her job at the county courthouse and parked near the hospital. As she stepped inside a ranch-style yellow-brick clinic building, staffers greeted Davila with hugs and laughter. She then sat on a white-papered exam table facing a large computer screen.

“Hello, everybody,” said Timothy Brininger, a family practice doctor who specializes in obstetrics. He peered out the other side of the screen from about 80 miles away at Miners Colfax Medical Center in Raton, New Mexico.

The visit was a relief — close enough for a lunchtime appointment — and with staff “I’ve known my whole life,” Davila said. She heard her baby’s heartbeat, had her blood drawn, and laughed about how she debated the due date with her husband in bed one night.

“They’re nice,” Davila said of the local staff. “They make me feel comfortable.”

Yet, Davila may be one of the last expectant mothers to benefit from the telehealth program. It is slated to run out of money at the end of August.

‘Oh My God, It Really Made a Difference’

The day after Davila’s prenatal checkup, Brininger sat at his desk in Raton and explained, “The closest OB doctor besides the one sitting in front of you who’s working today is over 100 miles in any direction.”

When the telehealth program runs out of money, Brininger said, he wants to keep devices the grant paid for that enable some patients to home-monitor with blood pressure cuffs, oxygen sensors, and fetal heart rate monitors “so they don’t have to drive to see us.”

The retired military doctor has thoughts about the pilot program ending: “I will hope that our tax dollars have been utilized effectively to learn something from this because otherwise it’s a shame.”

Because of the grant, 1,000 women and their families in northeastern New Mexico have been connected to social services like food assistance and lactation counselors since 2019. More than 760 mothers have used the program for medical care, including home, telehealth, and clinic appointments. In its first year, 57% of the women identified as Hispanic and 5% as Indigenous.

Jade Vandiver, 25, said she feels “like I wouldn’t have made it without them.”

In the early months of her pregnancy, Vandiver slept during the day and struggled with diabetic hypoglycemic episodes. Vandiver’s husband repeatedly rushed her to the Clayton hospital’s emergency room because “we were scared I was going to go into a coma or worse.”

There, hospital staffers suggested Vandiver join the program. She eventually began traveling to specialists in Albuquerque for often weekly visits.

The program covered travel and hotel costs for the family. After months of checkups, she had a planned delivery of Ezra, who’s now a healthy 6-month-old. The boy watched his mother’s smile as she talked.

Without the program, Vandiver likely would have delivered at home and been airlifted out — possibly to the smaller Raton hospital.

Raton’s Miners Colfax is a small critical access hospital that recently closed its intensive care unit. The hospital sits just off Interstate 25, less than 10 miles south of the Colorado border, and its patients can be transient, Chief Nursing Officer Rhonda Moniot said. Maintaining the hospital’s obstetric program “is not easy, financially it’s not easy,” she said.

Moms from the area “don’t always seek care when they need to,” she said. Substance use disorders are common, she said, and those babies are often delivered under emergency conditions and prematurely.

“If we can get them in that first trimester … we have healthier outcomes in the end,” Moniot said, pulling up a spreadsheet on her computer.

At Raton’s hospital, 41% of mothers who gave birth before the RMOMS program began failed to show up for their first-trimester prenatal exams. But over two years — even as the covid-19 pandemic scared many patients away from seeking care — the number dropped to only 25% of mothers missing prenatal checkups during their first three months of pregnancy.

“I was, like, oh my God, it really made a difference,” said Moniot, who helped launch the program at Miners Colfax in 2019.

‘Let’s Not Let It Die’

Just a few weeks before Davila’s checkup in Clayton, the New Mexico program’s executive director, Colleen Durocher, traveled nearly 1,600 miles east to Capitol Hill to lobby for money.

Durocher said she cornered HRSA’s Morris at an evening event while in Washington, D.C. She said she told him the program is working but that the one year of planning plus three years of implementation paid for by the federal government was not enough.

“Let’s not let it die,” Durocher said. “It would be a real waste to let those successes just end.”

By April, Sen. Martin Heinrich (D-N.M.) said he was impressed by the program’s “lifesaving” work and asked for $1 million in the federal budget for fiscal year 2024. But the money, if approved, would likely not arrive before Durocher runs out of funding in late summer.

As the August deadline looms, Durocher said one obvious option would be to simply extend the grant. HRSA spokesperson Elana Ross said the agency cannot extend funding for the program. Each site, though, can reapply by offering to target a new population, include new hospitals or clinics, or provide services in a new area.

Of the 10 regional programs across the country, the one in New Mexico and two others are slated to end their pilots this year. Seven other programs — from Minnesota to Arkansas — are scheduled to end in 2025 or 2026. During their first two years, the 2019 awardees reported more than 5,000 women received medical care, and all three recorded a decrease in preterm births during the second year of implementation, according to HRSA.

The three initial programs also expanded their patient navigation programs to connect “hundreds of women to emotional support, insurance coverage, and social services, such as transportation and home visiting,” agency spokesperson Ross wrote in an email.

New Mexico Medicaid’s interim Director Lorelei Kellogg said her agency would like to “emulate” the program’s care coordination among hospitals and health staff in other areas of the state but also alter it to work best for different Indigenous and tribal cultures as well as African American partners.

There is money in the state’s budget to pay for patient navigators or community health workers, but there are no funds dedicated to support the maternity program, she said.

In the meantime, the program’s funding is set to run out just days before Davila’s baby is due in early September. In the coming months, Davila, like many mothers with an uncomplicated pregnancy, will have monthly prenatal telehealth visits, then biweekly and, as her due date nears, weekly.

“It’s nicer to be able to just pop in,” she said, adding that “it would be harder for the community” if the program didn’t exist.

Still, Davila may be one of the last moms to benefit from it.

KFF Health 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 KFF.

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Rep. Lloyd Doggett (D-Texas) said he decided to introduce a bill in the House late last week after KHN’s reporting revealed what he called a “shocking loophole.”

“The ability of fraudsters to continue billing Medicare for services is outrageous,” Doggett said. “This is an obvious correction that is needed to safeguard our system. Wherever there are large amounts of government money available, someone tries to steal it.”

KHN found a laundry list of weaknesses that allows people accused or convicted of fraud to easily sidestep bans imposed by federal officials. Among those gaps is the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services’ lack of authority to deny or revoke National Provider Identifier, or NPI, numbers after federal regulators have prohibited a person or business from receiving payments from government programs.

Doctors, nurses, other practitioners, and health businesses use the unique, 10-digit NPI numbers to bill and file claims with insurers and others, including Medicare and Medicaid.

Taking away the NPI would “be equivalent of prohibiting a practitioner from practicing in total,” Dara Corrigan, director of CMS’ Center for Program Integrity, wrote in an email response to questions about KHN’s investigation. CMS declined to comment on Doggett’s proposed legislation.

The bill, HR 1745, would give CMS the authority to deactivate NPIs tied to anyone convicted of waste, fraud, or abuse and whose name appears on the exclusions list kept by the Office of Inspector General for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. The proposed law would also require CMS to implement recommendations that the inspector general has made to improve NPI reporting and provider transparency.

“This strikes me as what should be an easy bipartisan measure,” Doggett said, adding that he had presented the bill in a face-to-face meeting with Rep. Jason Smith (R-Mo.), who chairs the House Ways and Means Committee. Doggett also alerted that panel’s health subcommittee chair, Rep. Vern Buchanan (R-Fla.).

“They both talk about the need to eliminate fraud, and this is one modest but important way to do it,” Doggett said. Neither Smith’s nor Buchanan’s offices responded to requests for comment.

The OIG declined to comment.

Former Justice Department officials told KHN that repeat violators are savvy and find ways to circumvent the system. KHN examined a sample of 300 health care business owners and executives who are among more than 1,600 on the OIG’s exclusion list since January 2017. Journalists reviewed court and property records, social media, and other publicly available documents.

KHN found:

• Eight people appeared to be serving or served in roles that could violate their bans.
• Six transferred control of a business to family or household members.
• Nine had previous, unrelated felony or fraud convictions, and went on to defraud the health care system.
• And seven were repeat violators, some of whom raked in tens of millions of federal health care dollars before getting caught by officials after a prior exclusion.

Doggett’s bill is “a pretty smart step in the right direction in fixing this issue,” said John Kelly, a former assistant chief of health care fraud at the Department of Justice who is now a partner for the law firm Barnes & Thornburg. Kelly had previously recommended that NPIs should be “essentially wiped clean” when a person is on the exclusions list.

Kelly, who confirmed that Doggett’s office reached out to him after KHN’s investigation was published in December, said taking the NPI number away “certainly doesn’t eliminate all risk” but it’s a move “in the right direction.”

“If you want to bill Medicare, you have to have a valid NPI,” Kelly said.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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Less than two years after opening a state-of-the-art $26 million hospital in Leadville, Colorado, St. Vincent Health nearly ran out of money.

Hospital officials said in early December that without a cash infusion they would be unable to pay their bills or meet payroll by the end of the week.

The eight-bed rural hospital had turned a $2.2 million profit in 2021, but the windfall was largely a mirage. Pandemic relief payments masked problems in the way the hospital billed for services and collected payments.

In 2022, St. Vincent lost nearly $2.3 million. It was at risk of closing and leaving the 7,400 residents of Lake County without a hospital or immediate emergency care. A $480,000 bailout from the county and an advance of more than $1 million from the state kept the doors open and the lights on.

Since 2010, 145 rural hospitals across the U.S. have closed, according to the Cecil G. Sheps Center for Health Services Research at the University of North Carolina. But covid-19 relief measures slowed that trend. Only 10 rural hospitals shut down in 2021 and 2022 combined, after a record 19 in 2020. Two rural hospitals have closed already this year.

Now that those covid funds are gone, many challenges that threatened rural hospitals before the pandemic have resurfaced. Industry analysts warn that rural facilities, like St. Vincent Health, are once again on shaky ground.

Jeffrey Johnson, a partner with the consulting firm Wipfli, said he has been warning hospital boards during audits not to overestimate their financial position coming out of the pandemic.

He said the influx of cash aid gave rural hospital operators a “false sense of reality.”

No rural hospitals have closed in Colorado in the past decade, but 16 are operating in the red, according to Michelle Mills, CEO of the nonprofit Colorado Rural Health Center, the State Office of Rural Health. Last year, Delta County voters saved a rural hospital owned by Delta Health by passing a sales tax ballot measure to help support the facility. And state legislators are fast-tracking a $5 million payment to stabilize Denver Health, an urban safety-net hospital.

John Gardner took over as interim CEO of St. Vincent after the previous CEO resigned last year. He said the hospital’s cash crunch stemmed from decisions to spend covid funds on equipment instead of operating costs.

St. Vincent is classified by Medicare as a critical access hospital, so the federal program reimburses it based on its costs. Medicare advanced payments to hospitals in 2020, but then recouped the money by reducing payments in 2022. St. Vincent had to repay $1.2 million at the same time the hospital faced higher spending, a growing accounts-payable obligation, and falling revenue. The hospital, Gardner said, had mismanaged its billing process, hadn’t updated its prices since 2018, and failed to credential new clinicians with insurance plans.

Meanwhile, the hospital began adding services, including behavioral health, home health and hospice, and genetic testing, which came with high startup costs and additional employees.

“Some businesses the hospital was looking at getting into were beyond the normal menu of critical access hospitals,” Gardner said. “I think they lost their focus. There were just some bad decisions made.”

Once the hospital’s upside-down finances became clear, those services were dropped, and the hospital reduced staffing from 145 employees to 98.

Additionally, St. Vincent had purchased an accounting system designed for hospitals but had trouble getting it to work.

The accounting problems meant the hospital was late completing its 2021 audit and hadn’t provided its board with monthly financial updates. Gardner said the hospital believes it may have underreported its costs to Medicare, and so it is updating its reports in hopes of securing additional revenue.

The hospital also ran into difficulty with equipment it purchased to perform colonoscopies. St. Vincent is believed to be the highest-elevation hospital in the U.S., at more than 10,150 feet, and the equipment used to verify that the scopes weren’t leaking did not work at that altitude.

“We’re peeling the onion, trying to find out what are the things that went wrong and then fixing them, so it’s hopefully a ship that’s running fairly smoothly,” Gardner said.

Soon Gardner will hand off operations to a management company charged with getting the hospital back on track and hiring new leadership. But officials expect it could take two to three years to get the hospital on solid ground.

Some of those challenges are unique to St. Vincent, but many are not. According to the Chartis Center for Rural Health, a consulting and research firm, the average rural hospital operates with a razor-thin 1.8% margin, leaving little room for error.

Rural hospitals operating in states that have expanded Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, as Colorado did, average a 2.6% margin, but rural hospitals in the 12 non-expansion states have a margin of minus 0.5%.

Chartis calculated that 43% of rural hospitals are operating in the red, down slightly from 45% last year. Michael Topchik, who heads the Chartis Center for Rural Health, said the rate was only 33% 10 years ago.

A hospital should be able to sustain operations with the income from patient care, he said. Additional payments — such as provider relief funds, revenues from tax levies, or other state or federal funds — should be set aside for the capital expenditures needed to keep hospitals up to date.

“That’s not what we see,” Topchik said, adding that hospitals use that supplemental income to pay salaries and keep the lights on.

Bob Morasko, CEO of Heart of the Rockies Regional Medical Center in Salida, said a change in the way Colorado’s Medicaid program pays hospitals has hurt rural facilities.

Several years ago, the program shifted from a cost-based approach, similar to Medicare’s, to one that pays per patient visit. He said a rural hospital has to staff its ER every night with at least a doctor, a nurse, and X-ray and laboratory technicians.

“If you’re paid on an encounter and you have very low volumes, you can’t cover your costs,” he said. “Some nights, you might get only one or two patients.”

Hospitals also struggle to recruit staff to rural areas and often have to pay higher salaries than they can afford. When they can’t recruit, they must pay even higher wages for temporary travel nurses or doctors. And the shift to an encounter-based system, Morasko said, also complicated coding for billing , leading to difficulties in hiring competent billing staff.

On top of that, inflation has meant hospitals pay more for goods and services, said Mills, from the state’s rural health center.

“Critical access hospitals and rural health clinics were established to provide care, not to be a moneymaker in the community,” she said.

Even if rural hospitals manage to stay open, their financial weakness can affect patients in other ways. Chartis found the number of rural hospitals eliminating obstetrics rose from 198 in 2019 to 217 last year, and the number no longer offering chemotherapy grew from 311 to 353.

“These were two we were able to track with large data sets, but it’s across the board,” Topchik said. “You don’t have to close to be weak.”

Back in Leadville, Gardner said financial lifelines thrown to the hospital have stabilized its financial situation for now, and he doesn’t anticipate needing to ask the county or state for more money.

“It gives us the cushion that we need to fix all the other things,” he said. “It’s not perfect, but I see light at the end of the tunnel.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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Valley County, with a population of just over 7,500, passed levies to support the nursing home amounting to an estimated $300,000 a year for three years, starting this year. And when the Hi-Line Retirement Center in neighboring Phillips County shut down last year as the covid-19 pandemic brought more stressors to the nursing home industry, Valley View Home took in some of its patients.

Thompson said he foresees more nursing home closures on the horizon as their financial struggles continue. But lawmakers are trying to reduce that risk through measures that would raise and set standards for the Medicaid reimbursement rates that nursing homes depend on for their operations.

A study commissioned by the last legislative session found that Medicaid providers in Montana were being reimbursed at rates much lower than the cost of care. In his two-year state budget proposal before lawmakers, Republican Gov. Greg Gianforte has proposed increases to the provider rates that fall short of the study’s recommendations.

Legislators drafting the state health department budget included rates higher than the governor’s proposal, but still not enough for nursing homes to cover the cost of providing care. Those rates are subject to change as the state budget bill goes through the months-long legislative process, though majority-Republican lawmakers so far have rejected Democratic lawmakers’ attempts for full funding.

In a separate effort to address the long-term care industry’s long-term viability, a bipartisan bill going through Montana’s legislature, Senate Bill 296, aims to revise how nursing homes and assisted living facilities are funded. The bill would direct health officials to consider inflation, cost-of-living adjustments, and the actual costs of services in setting Medicaid reimbursement rates.

SB 296, which received an initial hearing on Feb. 17, has generated conflicting opinions from experts in the long-term care field on whether it does enough to avoid nursing home closures.

Republican Sen. Becky Beard, the bill’s sponsor, said that although the bill comes too late for the nursing homes that have already closed, she sees it as shining a light on a problem that’s not going away.

“We need to stop the attrition,” Beard said.

Sebastian Martinez Hickey, a research assistant at the Economic Policy Institute, a nonprofit think tank, said wages for nursing home employees had been extremely low even before the pandemic. He said the focus needs to be on raising Medicaid reimbursement rates beyond inflationary factors.

“Increasing Medicaid rates for inflation is going to have positive effects, but there’s no way that it’s going to compensate for what we’ve experienced in the last several years,” Martinez Hickey said.

Colorado, Illinois, Massachusetts, and North Carolina are among the states that have adopted laws or regulations to increase nursing home staff wages since the pandemic began. Michigan, North Carolina, and Ohio adopted increases or one-time bonuses.

In Maine, a 2020 study of long-term care workforce issues suggested that Medicaid rates should be high enough to support direct-care worker wages that amount to at least 125% of the minimum wage, which is $13.80 in that state. In combination with other goals outlined in the study, after a year there had been modest increases in residential care homes and beds, improved occupancy rates, and nods toward stabilization of the direct-care workforce.

Rose Hughes, executive director of the Montana Health Care Association, which lobbies on behalf of nursing homes and senior issues, said many of the problems plaguing senior care come down to reimbursement rates. There’s not enough money to hire staff, and, if there were, wages would still be too low to attract staff in a competitive marketplace, Hughes said.

“It’s trying to deal with systemic problems that exist in the system so that longer term the reimbursement system can be more stable,” Hughes said.

The governor’s office said Gianforte has been clear that Montana needs to raise its provider rates. For senior and long-term care, Gianforte’s proposed state budget would raise provider rates to 88% of the benchmark recommended by the state-commissioned study. Gianforte’s budget proposal is a starting point for lawmakers, and legislative budget writers have penciled in funding at about 90% of the benchmark rate.

“The governor continues to work with legislators and welcomes their input on his historic provider rate investment,” Gianforte spokesperson Kaitlin Price said.

Democratic Rep. Mary Caferro is sponsoring a bill to fully fund the Medicaid provider rates in accordance with the study.

“What we really, really need is our bill to pass so that it brings providers current with ongoing funding for predictability and stability so they can do the good work of caring for people,” Caferro said at a Feb. 21 press briefing.

But Thompson said that even the reimbursement rate recommended by the study — $279 per patient, per day, compared with the current $208 rate — isn’t high enough to cover Valley View Home’s expenses. He said he’s going to have to have a “heart to heart” with the facility’s board to see what can be done to keep it open if the local tax levies in combination with the new rate aren’t enough to cover the cost of operations.

David Trost, CEO of St. John’s United, an assisted-living facility for seniors in Billings, said the current reimbursement rate is so low that St. John’s uses savings, grants, fundraising revenue, and other investments to make up the difference. He said that while SB 296 looks at factors to cover operating costs, it doesn’t account for other costs, such as repairs and renovations.

“In addition to paying for existing operating costs as desired by SB 296, we also need to look at funding of capital improvements through some loan mechanism to help nursing facilities make improvements to existing environments,” Trost said.

Another component of SB 296 seeks to boost assisted-living services by generating more federal funding.

Additional money could help reduce or eliminate the waiting list for assisted-living homes, which now stands at about 175 people, Hughes said. That waiting list not only signals that some seniors aren’t getting service, but it also results in more people being sent to nursing homes when they may not need that level of care.

SB 296 would also ensure that money appropriated to nursing homes can be used only for nursing homes, and not be available for other programs within the Department of Public Health and Human Services, like dentists, hospitals, or Medicaid expansion. According to Hughes, in 2021 the nursing home budget had a remainder of $29 million, which was transferred to different programs in the Senior and Long Term Care division.

If the funding safeguard in SB 296 had been in place at that time, Hughes said, there may have been more money to sustain the nursing homes that closed last year.

Keely Larson is the KHN fellow for the UM Legislative News Service, a partnership of the University of Montana School of Journalism, the Montana Newspaper Association, and Kaiser Health News. Larson is a graduate student in environmental and natural resources journalism at the University of Montana.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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King contó que el banco de alimentos está muy ocupado a principios de mes porque las personas que reciben beneficios del Programa de Asistencia Nutricional Suplementaria (SNAP) federal,  vienen a abastecerse de alimentos gratis que los ayudan a estirar su presupuesto mensual.

Ha trabajado en este banco por más de 20 años, y dijo que nunca había recibido a tantas familias. En enero, FISH entregó cajas de comida a cerca de 790 personas.

Pero King y otros gerentes de bancos de alimentos temen que la demanda aumente aún más en marzo, cuando el gobierno retire los beneficios extra que SNAP ofreció durante la pandemia. El programa, administrado por el Departamento de Agricultura, proporciona dinero mensual a personas de bajos ingresos para gastos de alimentos. Antes de 2020, esos pagos promediaban poco más de $200 y aumentaron un mínimo de $95 durante la pandemia.

Funcionarios estiman que las familias con las que King trabaja verán una disminución del 30% al 40% en los pagos de SNAP a medida que se interrumpen las asignaciones de emergencia vinculadas a la emergencia de salud pública en 32 estados, incluido Nevada.

Otros estados, como Georgia, Indiana, Montana y Dakota del Sur, ya finalizaron estas asignaciones.

Los recortes a los beneficios de SNAP perjudicarán especialmente a las personas que viven en las zonas rurales del país, dijo Andrew Cheyne, director gerente de políticas públicas de GRACE, una organización sin fines de lucro dirigida por Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, enfocada en reducir el hambre infantil.

Un mayor porcentaje de personas depende de SNAP en áreas rurales en comparación con las áreas metropolitanas. Y esas zonas ya tienen tasas más altas de inseguridad alimentaria y de pobreza.

“Tenemos tantos hogares que simplemente no van a saber que esto está sucediendo”, dijo Cheyne. “Irán al mercado y esperarán tener dinero en su cuenta, y no podrán comprar los alimentos que necesitan para alimentar a sus familias”.

Mientras golpean las consecuencias de estos recortes, administradores de bancos de alimentos en áreas rurales se encuentran en el frente de batalla, tratando de llenar estos vacíos en sus comunidades. Ellos, y expertos en políticas alimentarias, temen que no sea suficiente. Por cada dólar en productos que un banco de alimentos distribuye a una comunidad, SNAP entrega $9.

“Simplemente no se puede comparar la escala de SNAP con el sector de alimentos caritativos”, dijo Cheyne. “Simplemente no es posible compensar esa diferencia”.

Los beneficios de cada hogar se reducirán en al menos $95 por mes, y algunos hogares absorberán una reducción de hasta $250, según el Center on Budget and Policy Priorities.

“Por lo que veo, no hay forma de que alguna vez compensemos por completo lo que se está perdiendo”, dijo Ellen Vollinger, directora de SNAP para el Food Research & Action Center, una organización sin fines de lucro contra el hambre, con sede en Washington, D.C.

Los recortes reducirán los pagos a los hogares que reciben asistencia a un promedio de alrededor de $6 por persona, por día, dijo Vollinger. Y agregó que $2 por comida no es suficiente para alimentar a una persona, especialmente sumando otros factores, como el aumento de la gasolina, el alquiler, y los precios de los alimentos. Añadió que algunos adultos mayores verán la caída más abrupta en los beneficios, pasando de $280 al mes a $23.

Chasity Harris, de 42 años, dijo que los $519 en beneficios que ha recibido mensualmente desde octubre marcan una gran diferencia para ella y su nieta. Cuando termine la asignación de emergencia, dijo que sabe que hará lo necesario para asegurarse de que haya comida en la mesa, pero eso no significa que será fácil.

“No se puede comer sano sin tener un presupuesto amable”, dijo Harris. “La mala comida es barata. El hecho de que pueda arreglármelas no significa que esté obteniendo todo lo que necesitamos. Estoy comprando las cosas más baratas”.

Un estudio publicado por el Urban Institute estimó que las asignaciones de emergencia de SNAP ayudaron a más de 4 millones de personas a mantenerse por encima del umbral de pobreza a fines de 2021. Las personas negras no hispanas e hispanas vieron la mayor reducción en los niveles de pobreza, según el análisis.

En Montana, los beneficios ampliados de SNAP se redujeron en el verano de 2021. Brent Weisgram, vicepresidente y director de operaciones de Montana Food Bank Network, dijo que los informes de los socios de la red mostraron un aumento del 2% en la cantidad de hogares que buscaron asistencia de bancos de alimentos de emergencia entre julio de 2021 y julio de 2022.

Weisgram dijo que las despensas de alimentos no están preparadas para absorber el impacto del recorte al programa federal de asistencia nutricional más grande, y que son estrictamente un recurso complementario.

Los bancos de alimentos de todo el país todavía están haciendo frente a la mayor demanda que comenzó en 2020, dijo Cheyne. Esa necesidad persistente de la pandemia, junto con la inflación que ha disparado los precios de los alimentos, deja a los bancos menos preparados para la demanda que resultará de los recortes a las asignaciones de emergencia de SNAP.

Si bien ahora el banco de alimentos FISH tiene suficiente carne para las familias, King dijo que le preocupa si será suficiente dentro de seis meses. En una escala del 1 al 10, su nivel de preocupación con respecto a las consecuencias de los inminentes recortes de SNAP es 9, remarcó.

Mirando el pasado reciente, sus preocupaciones son válidas.

En 2009, los beneficiarios de SNAP recibieron, en promedio, entre un 15% y un 20% más en beneficios cuando el gobierno federal estaba respondiendo a los desafíos de la Gran Recesión. Una familia de cuatro recibía $80 más al mes en beneficios. En 2013, el gobierno revirtió esto, promediando un recorte del 7% por hogar. Los efectos fueron inmediatos y a largo plazo, dijo Cheyne, incluidos picos significativos en la inseguridad alimentaria y el hambre relacionados con la pobreza que se prolongaron durante casi una década.

Esta vez, los recortes son mucho mayores que en 2013 y hay mucho menos tiempo para que los estados se preparen, lo que hace más difícil garantizar que los que reciben SNAP estén al tanto de los beneficios que están a punto de perder.

Si bien se espera que las familias e individuos recurran a otros lugares, como los bancos de alimentos, otras organizaciones de ayuda enfrentan desafíos producto de la inflación y el aumento del costo de vida.

El Banco de Alimentos del Norte de Nevada, que ayuda a suministrar bancos de alimentos, incluido FISH, en comunidades más pequeñas, ha visto una caída en las donaciones durante los últimos seis meses, dijo Jocelyn Lantrip, directora de marketing y comunicaciones del banco. El personal está “luchando” para obtener y comprar suficientes alimentos para satisfacer el aumento que se espera de la demanda, contó.

King dijo que la despensa de alimentos FISH dependerá de las donaciones porque los dólares de las subvenciones no se están estirando tanto como antes debido a la inflación. Pero harán todo lo posible para satisfacer las necesidades de su comunidad, que van mucho más allá de la asistencia alimentaria.

Las cajas de alimentos son solo una parte de los servicios que brinda FISH y otras despensas de alimentos, entre ellos: ayuda para inscribirse en SNAP y otros programas de beneficios, como vivienda y referencias a proveedores de salud mental.

A pesar del desafío por delante que enfrenta la pequeña despensa, King tiene esperanzas.

“Siento que todos los que tienen el poder de ayudar están haciendo todo lo posible para ayudarnos”, dijo. “Solo tienes que mirar tu comida y decir: ‘Está bien, ¿cuánto tiempo puedo hacer que esto dure y marcar la diferencia en la vida de alguien?'”.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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The beginning of the month is busy for the food pantry, King said, because people who receive benefits from the federal Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, known as SNAP, come to stock up on free food that helps them stretch their monthly allotments. The food pantry, one of a few in this city of about 20,000 people, serves more families now than at any point in King’s 20 years of working there, she said. In January, FISH provided food boxes to nearly 790 people.

But King and other food bank managers fear that demand will spike further in March, when officials roll back pandemic-era increases to SNAP benefits. The program, administered by the Department of Agriculture, provides monthly stipends to people with low incomes to spend on food. Before 2020, those payments averaged a little more than $200 and were hiked by a minimum of $95 during the pandemic.

Officials estimate families King works with will see a 30% to 40% decrease in SNAP payments as emergency allotments tied to the public health emergency halt in 32 states, including Nevada. Other states, such as Georgia, Indiana, Montana, and South Dakota, have already ended the emergency allotments.

The cuts to SNAP benefits will uniquely hurt people living in rural America, said Andrew Cheyne, managing director of public policy for GRACE, a nonprofit run by the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul focused on reducing childhood hunger. A higher percentage of people depend on SNAP in rural areas compared with metro areas. And those areas already have higher rates of food insecurity and poverty.

“We have so many households who simply aren’t going to know that this is happening,” Cheyne said. “They’re going to go to the grocery store and expect to have money in their account and not be able to buy the food they need to feed their families.”

And as the fallout from those cuts hits, food pantry managers in rural areas find themselves on the front lines trying to fill gaps in their communities. They and food policy experts fear it won’t be enough. For every dollar worth of groceries a food bank distributes to a community, SNAP delivers $9.

“There’s just no comparing the scale of SNAP to the charitable food sector,” Cheyne said. “It’s simply not possible to make up that difference.”

Each household’s benefits will drop by at least $95 per month, with some households absorbing as much as a $250 reduction, according to the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities.

“There’s no way, that I see, that we’re ever going to make up fully for what’s being lost,” said Ellen Vollinger, SNAP director for the Food Research & Action Center, an anti-hunger nonprofit in Washington, D.C.

The cuts will reduce payments to households that receive assistance to an average of about $6 per person, per day, Vollinger said, adding that $2 per meal isn’t enough to feed a person, especially given other factors, like rising fuel, rent, and grocery prices. Some older adults, she said, will see the most precipitous drop in benefits, going from $280 a month to $23.

Chasity Harris, 42, said the $519 in benefits she has received monthly since October makes a big difference for her and her granddaughter. Once the emergency allotment is cut, she said, she knows she can do what it takes to make sure there’s food on the table in her home but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy.

“You can’t eat healthy without having a nice little budget,” Harris said. “Bad food is cheap. Just because I can manage doesn’t mean I’m getting everything that we need. I’m buying the cheapest stuff.”

A study published by the Urban Institute estimated that the SNAP emergency allotments helped more than 4 million people stay above the poverty line in late 2021. Non-Hispanic Black and Hispanic people saw the biggest reduction in poverty levels, according to the study.

In Montana, the expanded SNAP benefits were cut in summer 2021. Brent Weisgram, vice president and chief operating officer of the Montana Food Bank Network, said that reporting from the network’s partners shows a 24% increase in the number of households seeking assistance from emergency food pantries from July 2021 to July 2022.

Weisgram said food pantries are not prepared to absorb the impact of the cut to the largest federal nutrition assistance program and are strictly a supplemental resource.

Food banks nationwide are still coping with increased demand that began in 2020, Cheyne said. That lingering need from the pandemic, coupled with food price inflation, leaves food pantries less prepared for demand resulting from cuts to the SNAP emergency allotments.

While the FISH food pantry has enough meat for families now, King said, she worries about whether it’ll be enough six months from now. On a scale of 1 to 10, King said, her level of concern regarding the consequences of the looming SNAP cuts is a 9.

If history is any indication, her concerns are valid.

In 2009, SNAP recipients received, on average, about 15% to 20% more in benefits as the federal government responded to the challenges of the Great Recession. A family of four received $80 more a month in benefits. In 2013, the government rolled the boosted benefits back, averaging a 7% cut for households. The effects were immediate and long-term, Cheyne said, including significant spikes in food insecurity and poverty-related hunger that lasted for nearly a decade.

The cuts this time around are much greater than in 2013 and there’s much less time for states to prepare, making it more difficult to ensure SNAP recipients are aware of the benefits they’re about to lose.

While families and individuals are expected to turn elsewhere, like food banks, other aid organizations face challenges brought on by inflation and rising food costs.

The Food Bank of Northern Nevada, which helps supply food pantries in smaller communities, including FISH, has seen a drop in food donations during the past six months, said Jocelyn Lantrip, director of marketing and communications for the food bank. Staffers are “scrambling” to source and buy enough food to meet the expected increase in demand, she said.

King said the FISH food pantry will depend on donations because its grant dollars aren’t stretching as far as they used to because of inflation. But they’ll do everything they can to meet the needs of their community, which go far beyond food assistance. The food boxes are just a spoke on the wheel of services FISH and other food pantries provide, such as assistance with signing up for SNAP and other benefit programs, housing, and referrals to mental health providers.

Despite the challenging road ahead for the small food pantry, King is hopeful.

“I feel that everybody who has the power to help is doing everything they can to help us,” she said. “You just gotta look at your food and say, ‘OK, how long can I make this last and make a difference in someone’s life?’”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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She shows up to build trust with those she encounters and offers water, condoms, referrals to services, and opportunities to be tested for HIV — anything she can muster that might be useful to someone in need.

She has seen firsthand how being proactive can combat an HIV outbreak that has persisted in the city and nearby areas since 2018. She also has witnessed the cost of political pullback on the effort.

Parker, 38, is a care coordinator for the Ryan White HIV/AIDS Program, a federal initiative that provides HIV-related services nationwide. Her work has helped build pathways into a difficult-to-reach community for which times have been particularly hard. It’s getting increasingly difficult to find a place to sleep for the night without being rousted by police. And many in this close-knit group of unhoused individuals and families remain shaken by the recent death, from complications of AIDS, of a woman Parker knew well.

The woman was barely in her 30s. Parker had encouraged her to seek medical care, but she was living in an alley; each day brought new challenges. If she could have gotten basic needs met, a few nights’ decent sleep to clear her head, Parker said, she would have more likely been open to receiving care.

Such losses, Parker and a cadre of experts believe, will continue, and maybe worsen, as political winds in the state blow against efforts to control an expanding HIV outbreak.

In August 2021, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention concluded its investigation of an HIV outbreak in Kanawha County, home to Charleston, where people who inject opioids and methamphetamine are at highest risk. The CDC’s HIV prevention chief had called it “the most concerning HIV outbreak in the United States” and warned that the number of reported diagnoses could be just “the tip of the iceberg.”

HIV spreads easily through contaminated needles; the CDC reports the virus can survive in a used syringe for up to 42 days. Research shows offering clean syringes to people who use IV drugs is effective in combating the spread of HIV.

Following its probe, the CDC issued recommendations to expand and improve access to sterile syringes, testing, and treatment. It urged officials to co-locate services for easier access.

But amid this crisis, state and local government officials have enacted laws and ordinances that make clean syringes harder to get. In April 2021, the state legislature passed a bill limiting the number of syringes people could exchange and required that they present an ID. Charleston’s City Council added an ordinance imposing criminal charges for violations.

As a result, advocates say, a substantial number of those at highest risk of contracting HIV remain vulnerable and untested.

Public health experts also worry that HIV infections are gaining a foothold in nearby rural areas, where sterile syringes and testing are harder to come by.

Joe Solomon is co-director of Solutions Oriented Addiction Response, an organization that previously offered clean syringes in exchange for contaminated ones in Kanawha County. Solomon said the CDC’s recommendations were precisely what SOAR once provided: co-location of essential services. But SOAR has ceased exchanging syringes in the face of the efforts to criminalize such work.

Solomon, who was recently elected to the Charleston City Council on a platform that includes measures to counter the region’s drug crisis, said the backlash against what’s known as harm reduction is “a public attack on public health.”

Epidemiologists agree: They contend sidelining syringe exchanges and the HIV testing they help catalyze may be exacerbating the HIV outbreak.

Fifty-six new cases of HIV were reported in 2021 in Kanawha County — which has a population of just under 180,000 — with 46 of those cases attributed to injection drug use. By the end of November, 27 new cases had been reported this year, 20 related to drug injection.

But the CDC’s “tip of the iceberg” assessment resonates with researchers and advocates. Robin Pollini, a West Virginia epidemiologist, has interviewed people in the county with injection-related HIV. “All of them are saying that syringe sharing is rampant,” she said. She believes it’s reasonable to infer there are far more than 20 people in the county who’ve contracted HIV this year from contaminated needles.

Pollini is among those concerned that testing initiatives aren’t reaching the people most at risk: those who use illicit drugs, many of whom are transient, and who may have reason to be wary of authority figures.

“I think that you can’t really know how many cases there are unless you have a very savvy testing strategy and very strong outreach,” she said.

Research shows sustained, well-targeted testing paired with access to clean syringes can effectively slow or stop an HIV outbreak.

In late 2015, the Kanawha-Charleston Health Department launched a syringe exchange, but in 2018 shuttered it after the city imposed restrictions on the number of syringes that could be exchanged and who could receive them. Then-Mayor Danny Jones called it a “mini-mall for junkies and drug dealers.”

When officials abandoned the effort, SOAR began hosting health fairs where it exchanged clean syringes for used ones. It also distributed the opioid overdose-reversing drug naloxone; offered treatment, referrals, and fellowship; and provided HIV testing.

But when the new state restrictions and local criminal ordinance took effect, SOAR ceased exchanging syringes, and attendance at its fairs plummeted.

“It’s indisputable and well established. It’s comprehensive; it’s inclusive,” Pollini said of research supporting syringe exchange. “You can’t even get funding to study the effectiveness of syringe service programs anymore because it’s established science that they work.”

Syringe exchanges are credited with tamping down an HIV outbreak in Scott County, Indiana, in 2015, after infections spread to more than 200 intravenous drug users. At that time, then-Gov. Mike Pence — after initially being resistant — approved the state’s first syringe service.

A team of epidemiologists worked with the Scott County Health Department on a study that determined that discontinuing the program would result in an increase in HIV infections of nearly 60%. But in June 2021, local officials voted to shut it down.

In Kanawha County, SOAR was making inroads. Interviews with numerous clients underscore that people felt safe at its health fairs. They could seek services anonymously. But most acknowledge that the promise of clean syringes was what brought them in.

Charleston-based West Virginia Health Right operates a syringe exchange that Dr. Steven Eshenaur, executive director of the Kanawha-Charleston Health Department, credits with helping reduce the number of new HIV diagnoses. But advocates say the imposed constraints — particularly the requirement to present an ID, which many potential clients don’t have — inhibit its success.

HIV diagnoses are up this year in nearby Cabell County and Pollini worries that without more aggressive action, an HIV epidemic could take root statewide. As of Dec. 1, 24 of West Virginia’s 55 counties had reported at least one positive diagnosis this year.

HIV is preventable. It’s also treatable, but treatment is expensive. The average cost of an antiretroviral regimen ranges from $36,000 to $48,000 a year. “If you’re 20 years old, you could live to be 70 or 80,” said Christine Teague, director of the Ryan White program in Charleston. That’s a cost of more than $2 million.

Saving lives and money, Pollini said, requires being both proactive — ongoing, comprehensive testing — and reactive — ramping up efforts when cases rise.

It also requires “meeting people where they are,” as it’s commonly put — building trust, which opens the door to education about what HIV is, how it’s spread, and how to combat it.

Teague said it also requires something more: addressing the fundamental needs of those on the margins; foremost, housing.

Parker agrees: “Low-barrier and transitional housing would be a godsend.”

But Teague questions whether the political will exists to confront HIV full force among those most at risk in West Virginia.

“I hate to say it, but it’s like people think that this is a group of people that are beyond help,” she said.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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The federal system meant to stop health care business owners and executives from repeatedly bilking government health programs fails to do so, a KHN investigation has found.

That means people are once again tapping into Medicaid, Medicare, and other taxpayer-funded federal health programs after being legally banned because of fraudulent or illegal behavior.

In large part that’s because the government relies on those who are banned to self-report their infractions or criminal histories on federal and state applications when they move into new jobs or launch companies that access federal health care dollars.

The Office of Inspector General for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services keeps a public list of those it has barred from receiving any payment from its programs — it reported excluding more than 14,000 individuals and entities since January 2017 — but it does little to track or police the future endeavors of those it has excluded.

The government explains that such bans apply to “the excluded person” or “anyone who employs or contracts with” them. Further, “the exclusion applies regardless of who submits the claims and applies to all administrative and management services furnished by the excluded person,” according to the OIG.

Federal overseers largely count on employers to check their hires and identify those excluded. Big hospital systems and clinics typically employ compliance staff or hire contractors who routinely vet their workers against the federal list to avoid fines.

However, those who own or operate health care businesses are typically not subject to such oversight, KHN found. And people can sidestep detection by leaving their names off key documents or using aliases.

“If you intend to violate your exclusion, the exclusion list is not an effective deterrent,” said David Blank, a partner at Arnall Golden Gregory who previously was senior counsel at the OIG. “There are too many workarounds.”

KHN examined a sample of 300 health care business owners and executives who are among more than 1,600 on OIG’s exclusion list since January 2017. Journalists reviewed court and property records, social media, and other publicly available documents. Those excluded had owned or operated home health care agencies, medical equipment companies, mental health facilities, and more. They’d submitted false claims, received kickbacks for referrals, billed for care that was not provided, and harmed patients who were poor and old, in some cases by stealing their medication or by selling unneeded devices to unsuspecting Medicare enrollees. One owner of an elder care home was excluded after he pleaded guilty to sexual assault.

Among those sampled, KHN found:

• Eight people appeared to be serving or served in roles that could violate their bans;
• Six transferred control of a business to family or household members;
• Nine had previous, unrelated felony or fraud convictions, and went on to defraud the health care system;
• And seven were repeat violators, some of whom raked in tens of millions of federal health care dollars before getting caught by officials after a prior exclusion.

The exclusions list, according to Blank and other experts, is meant to make a person radioactive — easily identified as someone who cannot be trusted to handle public health care dollars.

But for business owners and executives, the system is devoid of oversight and rife with legal gray areas.

One man, Kenneth Greenlinger, pleaded guilty in 2016 to submitting “false and fraudulent” claims for medical equipment his California company, Valley Home Medical Supply, never sent to customers that totaled more than $1.4 million to Medicare and other government health care programs, according to his plea agreement. He was sentenced to eight months in federal prison and ordered to pay restitution of more than $1 million, according to court records. His company paid more than $565,000 to resolve allegations of false claims, according to the Justice Department website.

Greenlinger was handed a 15-year exclusion from Medicare, Medicaid, and any other federal health care program, starting in 2018, according to the OIG.

But this October, Greenlinger announced a health care business with government contracts for sale. Twice on LinkedIn, Greenlinger announced: “I have a DME [durable medical equipment] company in Southern California. We are contracted with most Medicare and Medi-Cal advantage plans as well as Aging in Place payers. I would like to sell,” adding a Gmail address.

Reached by phone, Greenlinger declined to comment on his case. About the LinkedIn post, he said: “I am not affiliated directly with the company. I do consulting for medical equipment companies — that was what that was, written representing my consulting business.”

His wife, Helene, who previously worked for Valley Home Medical Supply, is now its CEO, according to LinkedIn and documentation from the California Secretary of State office. Although Helene has a LinkedIn account, she told KHN in a telephone interview that her husband had posted on her behalf. But Kenneth posted on and commented from his LinkedIn page — not his wife’s.

At Valley Home Medical Supply, a person who answered the phone last month said he’d see whether Kenneth Greenlinger was available. Another company representative got on the line, saying “he’s not usually in the office.”

Helene Greenlinger said her husband may come by “once in a while” but “doesn’t work here.”

She said her husband doesn’t do any medical work: “He’s banned from it. We don’t fool around with the government.”

“I’m running this company now,” she said. “We have a Medicare and Medi-Cal number and knew everything was fine here, so let us continue.”

No Active Enforcement

Federal regulators do not proactively search for repeat violators based on the exclusion list, said Gabriel Imperato, a managing partner with Nelson Mullins in Florida and former deputy general counsel with HHS’ Office of the General Counsel in Dallas.

He said that for decades he has seen a “steady phenomenon” of people violating their exclusions. “They go right back to the well,” Imperato said.

That oversight gap played out during the past two years in two small Missouri towns.

Donald R. Peterson co-founded Noble Health Corp., a private equity-backed company that bought two rural Missouri hospitals, just months after he’d agreed in August 2019 to a five-year exclusion that “precludes him from making any claim to funds allocated by federal health care programs for services — including administrative and management services — ordered, prescribed, or furnished by Mr. Peterson,” said Jeff Morris, an attorney representing Peterson, in a March letter to KHN. The prohibition, Morris said, also “applies to entities or individuals who contract with Mr. Peterson.”

That case involved a company Peterson created called IVXpress, now operating as IVX Health with infusion centers in multiple states. Peterson left the company in 2018, according to his LinkedIn, after the settlement with the government showed a whistleblower accused him of altering claims, submitting false receipts for drugs, and paying a doctor kickbacks. He settled the resulting federal charges without admitting wrongdoing. His settlement agreement provides that if he violates the exclusion, he could face “criminal prosecution” and “civil monetary penalties.”

In January 2020, Peterson was listed in a state registration document as one of two Noble Health directors. He was also listed as the company’s secretary, vice president, and assistant treasurer. Four months later, in April 2020, Peterson’s name appears on a purchasing receipt obtained under the Freedom of Information Act. In addition to Medicare and Medicaid funds, Noble’s hospitals had received nearly $20 million in federal covid relief money.

A social media account with a photo that appears to show Peterson announced the launch of Noble Health in February 2020. Peterson identified himself on Twitter as executive chairman of the company.

It appears federal regulators who oversee exclusions did not review or approve his role, even though information about it was publicly available.

Peterson, whose name does not appear on the hospitals’ Medicare applications, said by email that his involvement in Noble didn’t violate his exclusion in his reading of the law.

He said he owned only 3% of the company, citing OIG guidance — federal regulators may exclude companies if someone who is banned has ownership of 5% or more of them — and he did not have a hand in operations. Peterson said he worked for the corporation, and the hospitals “did not employ me, did not pay me, did not report to me, did not receive instructions or advice from me,” he wrote in a November email.

A 2013 OIG advisory states that “an excluded individual may not serve in an executive or leadership role” and “may not provide other types of administrative and management services … unless wholly unrelated to federal health care programs.”

Peterson said his activities were apart from the business of the hospitals.

“My job was to advise Noble’s management on the acquisition and due diligence matters on hospitals and other entities it might consider acquiring. … That is all,” Peterson wrote. “I have expert legal guidance on my role at Noble and am comfortable that nothing in my settlement agreement has been violated on any level.”

For the two hospitals, Noble’s ownership ended badly: The Department of Labor opened one of two investigations into Noble this March in response to complaints from employees. Both Noble-owned hospitals suspended services. Most employees were furloughed and then lost their jobs.

Peterson said he left the company in August 2021. That’s the same month state regulators cited one hospital for deficiencies that put patients “at risk for their health and safety.”

If federal officials determine Peterson’s involvement with Noble violated his exclusion, they could seek to claw back Medicaid and Medicare payments the company benefited from during his tenure, according to OIG records.

Enforcement in a Gray Zone

Dennis Pangindian, an attorney with the firm Paul Hastings who had prosecuted Peterson while working for the OIG, said the agency has limited resources. “There are so many people on the exclusions list that to proactively monitor them is fairly difficult.”

He said whistleblowers or journalists’ reports often alert regulators to possible violations. KHN found eight people who appeared to be serving or served in roles that could violate their bans.

OIG spokesperson Melissa Rumley explained that “exclusion is not a punitive sanction but rather a remedial action intended to protect the programs and beneficiaries from bad actors.”

But the government relies on people to self-report that they are banned when applying for permission to file claims that access federal health care dollars through the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services.

While federal officials are aware of the problems, they so far have not fixed them. Late last year, the Government Accountability Office reported that 27 health care providers working in the federal Veterans Affairs system were on the OIG’s exclusion list.

If someone “intentionally omits” from applications they are an “excluded owner or an owner with a felony conviction,” then “there’s no means of immediately identifying the false reporting,” said Dara Corrigan, director of the center for program integrity at CMS. She also said there is “no centralized data source of accurate and comprehensive ownership” to check for violators.

The OIG exclusion list website, which health care companies are encouraged to check for offenders, notes that the list does not include altered names and encourages those checking it to vet other forms of identification.

Gaps in reporting also mean many who are barred may not know they could be violating their ban because exclusion letters can go out months after convictions or settlements and may never reach a person who is in jail or has moved, experts said. The exclusion applies to federal programs, so a person could work in health care by accepting only patients who pay cash or have private insurance. In its review, KHN found some on the exclusion list who were working in health care businesses that don’t appear to take taxpayer money.

OIG said its exclusions are “based largely on referrals” from the Justice Department, state Medicaid fraud-control units, and state licensing boards. A lack of coordination among state and federal agencies was evident in exclusions KHN reviewed, including cases where years elapsed between the convictions for health care fraud, elder abuse, or other health-related felonies in state courts and the offenders’ names appearing on the federal list.

ProviderTrust, a health care compliance group, found that the lag time between state Medicaid fraud findings and when exclusions appeared on the federal list averaged more than 360 days and that some cases were never sent to federal officials at all.

The NPI, or National Provider Identifier record, is another potential enforcement tool. Doctors, nurses, other practitioners, and health businesses register for NPI numbers to file claims to insurers and others. KHN found that NPI numbers are not revoked after a person or business appears on the list.

The NPI should be “essentially wiped clean” when the person is excluded, precluding them from submitting a bill, said John Kelly, a former assistant chief for health care fraud at the Department of Justice who is now a partner for the law firm Barnes & Thornburg.

Corrigan said the agency didn’t have the authority to deactivate or deny NPIs if someone were excluded.

The Family ‘Fronts’

Repeat violators are all too common, according to state and federal officials. KHN’s review of cases identified seven of them, noted by officials in press releases or in court records. KHN also found six who transferred control of a business to a family or household member.

One common maneuver to avoid detection is to use the names of “family members or close associates as ‘fronts’ to create new sham” businesses, said Lori Swanson, who served as Minnesota attorney general from 2007 to 2019.

Blank said the OIG can exclude business entities, which would prevent transfers to a person’s spouse or family members, but it rarely does so.

Thurlee Belfrey stayed in the home care business in Minnesota after his 2004 exclusion for state Medicaid fraud. His wife, Lanore, a former winner of the Miss Minnesota USA title, created a home care company named Model Health Care and “did not disclose” Thurlee’s involvement, according to his 2017 plea agreement.

“For more than a decade” Belfrey, his wife, and his twin brother, Roylee, made “millions in illicit profits by cheating government health care programs that were funded by honest taxpayers and intended for the needy,” according to the Justice Department. The brothers spent the money on a Caribbean cruise, high-end housing, and attempts to develop a reality TV show based on their lives, the DOJ said.

Federal investigators deemed more than $18 million in claims Model Health Care had received were fraudulent because of Thurlee’s involvement. Meanwhile, Roylee operated several other health care businesses. Between 2007 and 2013, the brothers deducted and collected millions from their employees’ wages that they were supposed to pay in taxes to the IRS, the Justice Department said.

Thurlee, Lanore, and Roylee Belfrey all were convicted and served prison time. When reached for comment, the brothers said the government’s facts were inaccurate and they looked forward to telling their own story in a book. Roylee said he “did not steal people’s tax money to live a lavish lifestyle; it just didn’t happen.” Thurlee said he “never would have done anything deliberately to violate the exclusion and jeopardize my wife.” Lanore Belfrey could not be reached for comment.

Melchor Martinez settled with the government after he was accused by the Department of Justice of violating his exclusion and for a second time committing health care fraud by enlisting his wife, Melissa Chlebowski, in their Pennsylvania and North Carolina community mental health centers.

Previously, Martinez was convicted of Medicaid fraud in 2000 and was excluded from all federally funded health programs, according to DOJ.

Later, Chlebowski failed to disclose on Medicaid and Medicare enrollment applications that her husband was managing the clinics, according to allegations by the Justice Department.

Their Pennsylvania clinics were the largest providers of mental health services to Medicaid patients in their respective regions. They also had generated $75 million in combined Medicaid and Medicare payments from 2009 through 2012, according to the Justice Department. Officials accused the couple of employing people without credentials to be mental health therapists and the clinics of billing for shortened appointments for children, according to the DOJ.

They agreed, without admitting liability, to pay $3 million and to be excluded — a second time, for Martinez — according to court filings in the settlement with the government. They did not respond to KHN’s attempts to obtain comment.

‘Didn’t Check Anything’

In its review of cases, KHN found nine felons or people with fraud convictions who then had access to federal health care money before being excluded for alleged or confirmed wrongdoing.

But because of the way the law is written, Blank said, only certain types of felonies disqualify people from accessing federal health care money — and the system relies on felons to self-report.

According to the DOJ court filing, Frank Bianco concealed his ownership in Anointed Medical Supplies, which submitted about $1.4 million in fraudulent claims between September 2019 and October 2020.

Bianco, who opened the durable medical equipment company in South Florida, said in an interview with KHN that he did not put his name on a Medicare application for claims reimbursement because of his multiple prior felonies related to narcotics.

And as far as he knows, Bianco told KHN, the federal regulators “didn’t check anything.” Bianco’s ownership was discovered because one of his company’s contractors was under federal investigation, he said.

Kenneth Nash had been convicted of fraud before he operated his Michigan home health agency and submitted fraudulent claims for services totaling more than $750,000, according to the Justice Department. He was sentenced to more than five years in prison last year, according to the DOJ.

Attempts to reach Nash were unsuccessful.

“When investigators executed search warrants in June 2018, they shut down the operation and seized two Mercedes, one Land Rover, one Jaguar, one Aston Martin, and a $60,000 motor home — all purchased with fraud proceeds,” according to a court filing in his sentencing.

“What is readily apparent from this evidence is that Nash, a fraudster with ten prior state fraud convictions and one prior federal felony bank fraud conviction, got into health care to cheat the government, steal from the Medicare system, and lavishly spend on himself,” the filing said.

As Kelly, the former assistant chief for health care fraud at the Justice Department, put it: “Someone who’s interested in cheating the system is not going to do the right thing.”

KHN Colorado correspondent Rae Ellen Bichell contributed to this report.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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