Kirk Vartan pays more than $2,000 a month for a high-deductible health insurance plan from Blue Shield on Covered California, the state's Affordable Care Act marketplace. He could have selected a cheaper plan from a different provider, but he wanted one that includes his wife's doctor.
"It's for the two of us, and we're not sick," said Vartan, general manager at A Slice of New York pizza shops in the Bay Area cities of San Jose and Sunnyvale. "It's ridiculous."
Vartan, who is in his late 50s, is one of millions of Californians struggling to keep up with health insurance premiums ballooning faster than inflation.
Average monthly premiums for families with employer-provided health coverage in California's private sector nearly doubled over the last 15 years, from just over $1,000 in 2008 to almost $2,000 in 2023, a KFF Health News analysis of federal data shows. That's more than twice the rate of inflation. Also, employees have had to absorb a growing share of the cost.
The spike is not confined to California. Average premiums for families with employer-provided health coverage grew as fast nationwide as they did in California from 2008 through 2023, federal data shows. Premiums continued to grow rapidly in 2024, according to KFF.
Small-business groups warn that, for workers whose employers don't provide coverage, the problem could get worse if Congress does not extend enhanced federal subsidies that make health insurance more affordable on individual markets such as Covered California, the public marketplace that insures more than 1.9 million Californians.
Premiums on Covered California have grown about 25% since 2022, roughly double the pace of inflation. But the exchange helps nearly 90% of enrollees mitigate high costs by offering state and federal subsidies based on income, with many families paying little or nothing.
Rising premiums also have hit government workers — and taxpayers. Premiums at CalPERS, which provides insurance to more than 1.5 million of California's active and retired public employees and family members, have risenabout 31%since 2022. Public employers pay part of the cost of premiums as negotiated with labor unions; workers pay the rest.
"Insurance premiums have been going up faster than wages over the last 20 years," said Miranda Dietz, a researcher at the University of California-Berkeley Labor Center who focuses on health insurance. "Especially in the last couple of years, those premium increases have been pretty dramatic."
Dietz said rising hospital prices are largely to blame. Consumer costs for hospitals and nursing homes rose about 88% from 2009 through 2024, roughly double the overall inflation rate, according to data from the Department of Labor. The rising cost of administering America's massive health care system has also pushed premiums higher, she said.
Insurance companies remain highly profitable, but their gross margins — the amount by which premium income exceeds claims costs — were fairly steady during the last few years, KFF research shows. Under federal rules, insurers must spend a minimum percentage of premiums on medical care.
Rising insurance costs are cutting deeper into family incomes and squeezing small businesses.
The average annual cost of family health insurance offered by private sector companies was about $24,000, or roughly $2,000 a month, in California during 2023, according to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. Employers paid, on average, about two-thirds of the bill, with workers paying the remaining third, about $650 a month. Workers' share of premiums has grown faster in California than in the rest of the nation.
Many small-business workers whose employers don't offer health care turn to Covered California. During the last three decades, the percentage of businesses nationwide with 10 to 24 workers offering health insurance fell from 65% to 52%, according to the Employee Benefit Research Institute. Coverage fell from 34% to 23% among businesses with fewer than 10 employees.
"When an employee of a small business isn't able to access health insurance with their employer, they're more likely to leave that employer," said Bianca Blomquist, California director for Small Business Majority, an advocacy group representing more than 85,000 small businesses across America.
Kirk Vartan said his pizza shop employs about 25 people and operates as a worker cooperative — a business owned by its workers. The small business lacks negotiating power to demand discounts from insurance companies to cover its workers. The best the shop could do, he said, were expensive plans that would make it hard for the cooperative to operate. And those plans would not offer as much coverage as workers could find for themselves through Covered California.
"It was a lose-lose all the way around," he said.
Mark Seelig, a spokesperson for Blue Shield of California, said rising costs for hospital stays, doctor visits, and prescription drugs put upward pressure on premiums. Blue Shield has created a new initiative that he said is designed to lower drug prices and pass on savings to consumers.
Even at California companies offering insurance, the percentage of employees enrolled in plans with a deductible has roughly doubled in 20 years, rising to 77%, federal data shows. Deductibles are the amount a worker must pay for most types of care before their insurance company starts paying part of the bill. The average annual deductible for an employer-provided family health insurance plan was about $3,200 in 2023.
During the last two decades, the cost of health insurance premiums and deductibles in California rose from about 4% of median household income to about 12%, according to the UC Berkeley Labor Center, which conducts research on labor and employment issues.
As a result, the center found, many Californians are choosing to delay or forgo health care, including some preventive care.
California is trying to lower health care costs by setting statewide spending growth caps, which state officials hope will curb premium increases. The state recently established the Office of Health Care Affordability, which set a five-year target for annual spending growth at 3.5%, dropping to 3% by 2029. Failure to hit targets could result in hefty fines for health care organizations, though that likely wouldn't happen until 2030 or later.
Other states that imposed similar caps saw health care costs rise more slowly than states that did not, Dietz said.
"Does that mean that health care becomes affordable for people?" she asked. "No. It means it doesn't get worse as quickly."
BOLIGEE, Ala. — Green lights flickered on the wireless router in Barbara Williams' kitchen. Just one bar lit up — a weak signal connecting her to the world beyond her home in the Alabama Black Belt.
Next to the router sat medications, vitamin D pills, and Williams' blood glucose monitor kit.
"I haven't used that thing in a month or so," said Williams, 72, waving toward the kit. Diagnosed with diabetes more than six years ago, she has developed nerve pain from neuropathy in both legs.
Williams is one of nearly 3 million Americans who live in mostly rural counties that lack both health care and reliable high-speed internet, according to an analysis by KFF Health News, which showed that these people tend to live sicker and die younger than others in America.
Compared with those in other regions, patients across the rural South, Appalachia, and remote West are most often unable to make a video call to their doctor or log into their patient portals. Both are essential ways to participate in the U.S. medical system. And Williams is among those who can do neither.
This year, more than $42 billion allocated in the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act is expected to begin flowing to states as part of a national "Internet for All" initiative launched by the Biden administration. But the program faces uncertainty after Commerce Department Secretary Howard Lutnick last week announced a "rigorous review" asserting that the previous administration's approach was full of "woke mandates."
High rates of chronic illness and historical inequities are hallmarks of many of the more than 200 U.S. counties with poor services that KFF Health News identified. Dozens of doctors, academics, and advocates interviewed for this article unanimously agreed that limited internet service hinders medical care and access.
Without fast, reliable broadband, "all we're going to do is widen health care disparities within telemedicine," said Rashmi Mullur, an endocrinologist and chief of telehealth at VA Greater Los Angeles. Patients with diabetes who also use telemedicine are more likely to get care and control their blood sugar, Mullur found.
Diabetes requires constant management. Left untreated, uncontrolled blood sugar can cause blindness, kidney failure, nerve damage, and eventually death.
Williams, who sees a nurse practitioner at the county hospital in the next town, said she is not interested in using remote patient monitoring or video calls.
"I know how my sugar affects me," Williams said. "I get a headache if it's too high." She gets weaker when it's down, she said, and always carries snacks like crackers or peppermints.
Williams said she could even drink a soda pop — orange, grape — when her sugar is low but would not drink one when she felt it was high because she would get "kind of goozie-woozy."
'This Is America'
Connectivity dead zones persist in American life despite at least $115 billion lawmakers have thrown toward fixing the inequities. Federal broadband efforts are fragmented and overlapping, with more than 133 funding programs administered by 15 agencies, according to a 2023 federal report.
"This is America. It's not supposed to be this way," said Karthik Ganesh, chief executive of Tampa, Florida-based OnMed, a telehealth company that in September installed a walk-in booth at the Boligee Community Center about 10 minutes from Williams' home. Residents can call up free life-size video consultations with an OnMed health care provider and use equipment to check their weight and blood pressure.
OnMed, which partnered with local universities and the Alabama Cooperative Extension System, relies on SpaceX's Starlink to provide a high-speed connection in lieu of other options.
A short drive from the community center, beyond Boligee's Main Street with its deserted buildings and an empty railroad depot and down a long gravel drive, is the 22-acre property where Williams lives.
Last fall, Williams washed a dish in her kitchen, with its unforgiving linoleum-topped concrete floors. A few months earlier, she said, a man at the community center signed her up for "diabetic shoes" to help with her sore feet. They never arrived.
As Williams spoke, steam rose from a pot of boiling potatoes on the stove. Another pan sizzled with hamburger steak. And on a back burner simmered a mix of Velveeta cheese, diced tomatoes, and peppers.
She spent years on her feet as head cook at a diner in Cleveland, Ohio. The oldest of nine, Williams returned to her family home in Greene County more than 20 years ago to care for her mother and a sister, who both died from cancer in the back bedroom where she now sleeps.
Williams looked out a window and recalled when the landscape was covered in cotton that she once helped pick. Now three houses stand in a carefully tended clearing surrounded by tall trees. One belongs to a brother and the other to a sister who drives with her daily to the community center for exercise, prayers, and friendship with other seniors.
All the surviving siblings, Williams said, have diabetes. "I don't know how we became diabetic," she said. Neither of their parents had been diagnosed with the illness.
In Greene County, an estimated quarter of adults have diabetes — twice the national average. The county, which has about 7,600 residents, also has among the nation's highest rates for several chronic diseases such as high blood pressure, stroke, and obesity, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data shows.
The county's population is predominately Black. The federal CDC reports that Black Americans are more likely to be diagnosed with diabetes and are 40% more likely than their white counterparts to die from the condition. And in the South, rural Black residents are more likely to lack home internet access, according to the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies, a Washington-based think tank.
To identify counties most lacking in reliable broadband and health care providers, KFF Health News used data from the Federal Communications Commission and George Washington University's Mullan Institute for Health Workforce Equity. Reporters also analyzed U.S. Census Bureau, CDC, and other data to understand the health status and demographics of those counties.
The analysis confirms that internet and care gaps are "hitting areas of extreme poverty and high social vulnerability," said Clese Erikson, deputy director of the health workforce research center at the Mullan Institute.
Digital Haves vs. Have-Nots
Just over half of homes in Greene County have access to reliable high-speed internet — among the lowest rates in the nation. Greene County also has some of the country's poorest residents, with a median household income of about $31,500. Average life expectancy is less than 72 years, below the national average.
By contrast, the KFF Health News analysis found that counties with the highest rates of internet access and health care providers correlated with higher life expectancy, less chronic disease, and key lifestyle factors such as higher incomes and education levels.
One of those is Howard County, Maryland, between Baltimore and Washington, D.C., where nearly all homes can connect to fast, reliable internet. The median household income is about $147,000 and average life expectancy is more than 82 years — a decade longer than in Greene County. A much smaller share of residents live with chronic conditions such as diabetes.
One is 78-year-old Sam Wilderson, a retired electrical engineer who has managed his Type 2 diabetes for more than a decade. He has fiber-optic internet at his home, which is a few miles from a cafe he dines at every week after Bible study. On a recent day, the cafe had a guest Wi-Fi download speed of 104 megabits per second and a 148 Mbps upload speed. The speeds are fast enough for remote workers to reliably take video calls.
Americans are demanding more speed than ever before. Most households have multiple devices — televisions, computers, gaming systems, doorbells — in addition to phones that can take up bandwidth. The more devices connected, the higher minimum speeds are needed to keep everything running smoothly.
To meet increasing needs, federal regulators updated the definition of broadband last year, establishing standard speeds of 100/20 Mbps. Those speeds are typically enough for several users to stream, browse, download, and play games at the same time.
Christopher Ali, professor of telecommunications at Penn State, recommends minimum standard speeds of 100/100 Mbps. While download speeds enable consumption, such as streaming or shopping, fast upload speeds are necessary to participate in video calls, say, for work or telehealth.
At the cafe in Howard County, on a chilly morning last fall, Wilderson ordered a glass of white wine and his usual: three-seeded bread with spinach, goat cheese, smoked salmon, and over-easy eggs. After eating, Wilderson held up his wrist: "This watch allows me to track my diabetes without pricking my finger."
Wilderson said he works with his doctors, feels young, and expects to live well into his 90s, just as his father and grandfather did.
Telehealth is crucial for people in areas with few or no medical providers, said Ry Marcattilio, an associate director of research at the Institute for Local Self-Reliance. The national research and advocacy group works with communities on broadband access and reviewed KFF Health News' findings.
High-speed internet makes it easier to use video visits for medical checkups, which most patients with diabetes need every three months.
Being connected "can make a huge difference in diabetes outcomes," said Nestoras Mathioudakis, an endocrinologist and co-medical director of Johns Hopkins Medicine Diabetes & Education Program, who treats patients in Howard County.
Paying More for Less
At Williams' home in Alabama, pictures of her siblings and their kids cover the walls of the hallway and living room. A large, wood-framed image of Jesus at the Last Supper with his disciples hangs over her kitchen table.
Williams sat down as her pots simmered and sizzled. She wasn't feeling quite right. "I had a glass of orange juice and a bag of potato chips, and I knew that wasn't enough for breakfast, but I was cooking," Williams said.
Every night Williams takes a pill to control her diabetes. In the morning, if she feels as if her sugar is dropping, she knows she needs to eat. So, that morning, she left the room to grab a peppermint, walking by the flickering wireless router.
The router's download and upload speeds were 0.03/0.05 Mbps, nearly unusable by modern standards. Williams' connection on her house phone can sound scratchy, and when she connects her cellphone to the router, it does not always work. Most days it's just good enough for her to read a daily devotional website and check Facebook, though the stories don't always load.
Rural residents like Williams paid nearly $13 more a month on average in late 2020 for slow internet connections than those in urban areas, according to Brian Whitacre, an agricultural economics professor at Oklahoma State University.
"You're more likely to have competition in an urban area," Whitacre said.
In rural Alabama, cellphone and internet options are limited. Williams pays $51.28 a month to her wireless provider, Ring Planet, which did not respond to calls and emails.
In Howard County, Maryland, national fiber-optic broadband provider Verizon Communications faces competition from Comcast, a hybrid fiber-optic and cable provider. Verizon advertises a home internet plan promising speeds of 300/300 Mbps starting at $35 a month for its existing mobile customers. The company also offers a discounted price as low as $20 a month for customers who participate in certain federal assistance programs.
"Internet service providers look at the economics of going into some of these communities and there just isn't enough purchasing power in their minds to warrant the investment," said Ross DeVol, chief executive of Heartland Forward, a nonpartisan think tank based in Bentonville, Arkansas, that specializes in state and local economic development.
Conexon, a fiber-optic cable construction company, estimates it costs $25,000 per mile to build above-ground fiber lines on poles and $60,000 to $70,000 per mile to build underground.
Former President Joe Biden's 2021 infrastructure law earmarked $65 billion with a goal of connecting all Americans to high-speed internet. Money was designated to establish digital equity programs and to help low-income customers pay their internet bills. The law also set aside tens of billions through the Broadband Equity Access and Deployment Program, known as BEAD, to connect homes and businesses.
That effort prioritizes fiber-optic connections, but federal regulators recently outlined guidance for alternative technologies, including low Earth orbit satellites like SpaceX's Starlink service.
Funding the use of satellites in federal broadband programs has been controversial inside federal agencies. It has also been a sore point for Elon Musk, who is chief executive of SpaceX, which runs Starlink, and is a lead adviser to President Donald Trump.
After preliminary approval, a federal commission ruled that Starlink's satellite system was "not reasonably capable" of offering reliable high speeds. Musk tweeted last year that the commission had "illegally revoked" money awarded under the agency's Trump-era Rural Digital Opportunity Fund.
In February, Trump nominated Arielle Roth to lead the federal agency overseeing the infrastructure act's BEAD program. Roth is telecommunications policy director for the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation. Last year, she criticized the program's emphasis on fiber and said it was beleaguered by a "woke social agenda" with too many regulations.
Commerce Secretary Lutnick last week said he will get rid of "burdensome regulations" and revamp the program to "take a tech-neutral approach." Republicans echoed his positions during a U.S. House subcommittee hearing the same day.
When asked about potentially weakening the program's required low-cost internet option, former National Telecommunications and Information Administration official Sarah Morris said such a change would build internet connections that people can't afford. Essentially, she said, they would be "building bridges to nowhere, building networks to no one."
'That Hurt'
Over a lunch of tortilla chips with the savory sauce that had been simmering on the stove, Williams said she hadn't been getting regular checkups before her diabetes diagnosis.
"To tell you the truth, if I can get up and move and nothing is bothering me, I don't go to the doctor," Williams said. "I'm just being honest."
Years ago, Williams recalled, "my head was hurting me so bad I had to just lay down. I couldn't stand up, walk, or nothing. I'd get so dizzy."
Williams thought it was her blood pressure, but the doctor checked for diabetes. "How did they know? I don't know," Williams said.
As lunch ended, she pulled out her glucose monitor. Williams connected the needle and wiped her finger with an alcohol pad. Then she pricked her finger.
"Oh," Williams said, sucking air through her teeth. "That hurt."
She placed the sample in the machine, and it quickly displayed a reading of 145 — a number, Williams said, that meant she needed to stop eating.
Panelists at a COVID conference last fall were asked to voice their regrets — policies they had supported during the pandemic but had come to see as misguided. COVID contact tracing, one said. Closing schools, another said. Vaccine mandates, a third said.
When Marty Makary's turn came, the Johns Hopkins University surgeon said, "I can't think of anything," adding, "The entire COVID policy of three to four years felt like a horror movie I was forced to watch."
It was a characteristic response for Makary, President Donald Trump's nominee to lead the Food and Drug Administration, who looks set to be confirmed after a Senate committee hearing on Thursday. A decorated doctor and a brash critic of many of his medical colleagues, Makary drew Trump's attention during the pandemic with frequent appearances on Fox News shows such as "Tucker Carlson Tonight," in which he excoriated public health officials over their handling of COVID.
Many former FDA officials and scientists with knowledge of the agency are optimistic about Makary — to a degree.
"He's a world-class surgeon, and he has health policy expertise," said Jennifer Nuzzo, a Brown University professor of epidemiology and former colleague of Makary's at Johns Hopkins. "If you have pancreatic cancer, he's the person you want to operate on you. The university is probably losing a lot of money to not have him doing that work."
His critics say he at times exaggerated the harms of the COVID vaccine and undersold the dangers of the virus, contributing to a pandemic narrative that led many Americans to shun the shots and other practices intended to curb transmission and reduce hospitalizations and deaths.
Should he take the reins at the FDA, transitioning from gadfly to the head of an agency that regulates a fifth of the U.S. economy, Makary would have to engage in the thorny challenges of governing.
"Makary spent the pandemic raving against the medical establishment as if he were an outsider, which he wasn't," said Jonathan Howard, a New York City neurologist and the author of "We Want Them Infected," a book that criticizes Makary and other academics who opposed government policies. "Now he really is the establishment. Everything that happens is going to be his responsibility."
At his confirmation hearing, Makary sounded a lower-key tone, extolling the FDA's professional staff and promising to apply good science and common sense in the service of attacking chronic disease in the U.S., including by studying food additives and chemicals that could be contributing to poor health.
"We need more humility in the medical establishment. You have to be willing to evolve your position as new data comes in," he testified. What makes a great doctor "is not how much you know; it's your humility and your willingness to learn, as you go, from patients."
Colleagues have applauded Makary's skill and intelligence as a surgeon and medical policy thinker. He contributed to a 2009 surgery checklist believed to have prevented thousands of mistakes and infections in operating rooms. He wrote a widely cited 2016 paper claiming that medical errors were the third-leading cause of death in the United States, although some researchers said the assertion was overblown. He's also founded or been a director for companies and said in the hearing that a surgical technique he invented eventually could help cure diabetes.
Humility, however, has not been Makary's most obvious trait.
During the pandemic, he took to op-eds and conservative media with controversial positions on public health policy. Some proved astute, while others look less prescient in hindsight.
In December 2020, Makary defied established scientific knowledge and said that vaccination of 20% of the population would be enough to create "herd immunity." In a February 2021 Wall Street Journal piece, he predicted that COVID would virtually disappear by April because so many people would have become immune through infection or vaccination. The U.S. death toll from COVID stood at 560,000 that April, with an additional 650,000 deaths to come. In June 2021, he said he had been unable to find evidence of a single COVID death of a previously healthy child. By then there were many reports of such deaths, although children were much less likely than older people to suffer severe disease.
In February 2023, Makary testified in Congress that the lab-leak theory of COVID's origin was a "no brainer," a surprisingly unequivocal statement for a scientist discussing a scientifically unresolved issue.
Some public health officials felt Makary gratuitously attacked authorities working in difficult circumstances.
"He went from being a pretty reasonable person to saying a lot of things that were over the top and unnecessary," said Ashish Jha, dean of the Brown University School of Public Health, who was the White House COVID-19 response coordinator under President Joe Biden.
And while almost everyone involved in fighting COVID has admitted to getting things wrong during the pandemic, Jha said, "I never had any sense from Marty that he did."
Makary did not respond to requests for comment.
Makary accused Biden administration officials of ignoring emerging evidence that previous infection with COVID could be as or more effective against future infection than vaccination. While he was probably right, Nuzzo said, his statements seemed to encourage people to get infected.
"It's reasonable to say that vaccine mandates weren't the right approach," she said. "But you can also understand that people were trying to blindly stumble our way out of the situation, and some people thought vaccine mandates would be expedient."
At Johns Hopkins, for example, Nuzzo opposed a booster mandate for the campus in 2022 but understood the final decision to require it. School authorities were intent on bringing students back to campus and worried that outbreaks would force them to shut down again, she said.
"You can argue that seat belt laws are bad because they impinge on civil rights," Howard said. "But a better thing to do would be to urge people to wear seat belts."
Makary's statements had "no grace," he said. "These were people dealing with an overwhelming virus, and he constantly accused them of lying."
Several public health officials were particularly upset by the way Makary cast aspersions on the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention's vaccine safety program. In a Jan. 16, 2023, appearance on Tucker Carlson's Fox News show, Makary said the CDC had "tried to quickly downplay" evidence of an increased risk of stroke in Medicare beneficiaries who got a COVID booster. In fact, the CDC had detected a potential signal for additional strokes in one database, and in the interest of transparency it released that information, Nuzzo said. Further investigation found that there was no actual risk.
During Thursday's hearing, Makary's pandemic views were mostly left unexplored, but Democratic and Republican senators repeatedly probed for his views on the abortion drug mifepristone, which became easier to use without direct medical supervision because of a 2021 FDA ruling. Many Republicans want to reverse the FDA ruling; Democrats say there are reams of evidence that support the drug's safety when taken by a woman at home.
Makary tried to satisfy both parties. He told Sen. Maggie Hassan (D-N.H.) he would be led by science and had no preconceived ideas about mifepristone's safety. Questioned by Republican Bill Cassidy, chair of the Health, Education, Labor and Pensions Committee and an abortion foe, he said he would examine ongoing data on the drug from the FDA's risk evaluation system, which gathers reports from the field.
The abortion pill question exemplifies the kind of dilemmas Makary will face at the FDA, Jha said.
"He's going to have to decide whether he listens to the scientists in his administration, or his boss, who often disagrees with science," he said. "He's a smart, thoughtful guy and my hope is he'll find his way through."
"The two most important organs for the FDA commissioner are the brain and the spine," said former FDA deputy commissioner Joshua Sharfstein. "The spine because there's attempted influence coming from many directions, not just political but also commercial and from multiple advocacy communities. It's very important to stand up for the agency's success."
We'd like to speak with current and former personnel from the Department of Health and Human Services or its component agencies who believe the public should understand the impact of what's happening within the federal health bureaucracy. Please message KFF Health News on Signal at (415) 519-8778 or get in touch here.
More than three years ago, health insurance giant Centene Corp. settled allegations that it overcharged Medicaid programs in Ohio and Mississippi related to prescription drug billing.
Now at least 20 states have settled with Centene over its pharmacy benefit manager operation that coordinated the medications for Medicaid patients. Arizona was among the most recent to join the ranks, settling for an undisclosed payout, Richie Taylor, a spokesperson for the state's attorney general, told KFF Health News in December.
All told, Centene has agreed to pay more than $1 billion in settlements, according to Cohen Milstein, one of the law firms representing states in the agreements. Meanwhile, St. Louis-based Centene reported $163 billion in revenue in 2024, largely proceeds from government health programs for Medicaid, Medicare, and the Affordable Care Act. The health care company has admitted no wrongdoing in the settlements.
Two state holdouts appear to remain: Georgia has yet to settle with Centene, even though the administration of Gov. Brian Kemp hired law firm Liston & Deas in 2019 to investigate state pharmacy benefit operations.
Florida hired the same law firm in 2021 to pursue overbilling allegations involving Centene, but state officials declined to answer a reporter's questions about whether Florida has dropped the case, reached an undisclosed settlement, or is still discussing the issue.
Neither state has publicly disclosed what's standing in the way of potentially tens of millions of dollars in Centene payouts, or whether negotiations are taking place. Because the deals are largely occurring outside the court system, the process between the private law firms hired by states and Centene remains generally out of public view.
Centene spokespeople did not return multiple phone calls and emails asking for updates. In 2022, the company said it was working on settlements with Georgia and eight other states, having reached deals with 13 others. And in a Securities and Exchange Commission filing in October, Centene said it had reached settlements with "the vast majority of states impacted" over the operations of its former pharmacy benefits manager.
Georgia has "taken disproportionately long compared to other states," said Greg Reybold, a vice president of the American Pharmacy Cooperative, which represents independent pharmacies.
Meanwhile, Centene's Georgia Medicaid plan, the Peach State Health Plan, lost its bid last year to continue its longtime participation in a Georgia Medicaid program in which companies cover the care for Medicaid recipients for a set fee from the government rather than for each medical service provided. The company, which has been part of the contract since the managed-care program began in 2006, filed a protest over the contract awards, saying that the process was "mismanaged, rife with errors and reckless practices."
Nationally, pharmacy benefit managers, or PBMs, have come under increased scrutiny over accusations of pocketing discounts on medications or inflating costs in the years since Centene started settling its Medicaid-related allegations. Members of Congress have proposed major policy constraints on PBMs. Centene has since overhauled its PBM operation.
Still, a possible settlement in Georgia could bring in significant money to the state. California had the largest publicly disclosed settlement at $215 million, split with the federal government, but a settlement with Georgia could be in the range of the $88 million that Centene agreed to pay in the Ohio dispute, Reybold said.
The state should aggressively pursue a settlement with Centene, said Roland Behm, co-founder of the Georgia Mental Health Policy Partnership, who is a critic of Centene and its Georgia Medicaid plan. Behm said state Attorney General Chris Carr should take "the same tenacious prosecutorial action" against Centene that Carr's agency takes against individuals involved in fraud against Medicaid, the federal-state program that provides health insurance coverage for those with low incomes or disabilities.
Carr's office said in 2022 that it stood ready to represent Georgia in settlement negotiations with Centene. Carr, a Republican who has announced he's running for governor in 2026, received tens of thousands of dollars in campaign contributions from Centene, its subsidiaries, and its executives, as did Kemp, a fellow Republican, KFF Health News reported in 2022. Contributions to the Kemp and Carr campaigns were part of more than $26.9 million that Centene, its subsidiaries, its top executives, and their spouses donated to state politicians in 33 states, to their political parties, and to nonprofit fundraising groups from 2015 through 2022.
Since 2022, the company and its political action committee have contributed, combined, at least $2 million more to the campaigns of Florida and Georgia candidates of both political parties, along with state party organizations and political committees, according to state campaign finance records.
When asked about a possible settlement, a spokesperson for Carr, Kara Murray, directed a reporter to the Georgia Department of Community Health, which administers Medicaid.
Fiona Roberts, a spokesperson for that agency, then told KFF Health News that the department "is actively pursuing options to ensure regulatory compliance with the state's contract." She declined to comment further.
Florida's attorney general's office directed a reporter to the state agency that oversees Medicaid, the Florida Agency for Health Care Administration. But that agency did not respond to multiple phone calls and emails requesting comment.
Rebecca Grapevine of Healthbeat contributed to this article.
The Justice Department's years-long court battle to force UnitedHealth Group to return billions of dollars in alleged Medicare Advantage overpayments hit a major setback Monday when a special master ruled the government had failed to prove its case.
In finding for UnitedHealth, Special Master Suzanne Segal found that the DOJ had not presented evidence to support its claim that the giant health insurer exaggerated how sick patients were to illegally pocket more than $2 billion in overpayments.
"A mere possibility of an overpayment is not enough for the government to carry its burden," Segal wrote in an initial ruling. She recommended that UnitedHealth's motion to dismiss the case be granted. The recommendation, which is to be presented to the federal judge handling the case, can be appealed within two weeks.
The civil fraud case against UnitedHealth Group, the nation's largest Medicare Advantage insurer, was filed in 2011 by whistleblower Benjamin Poehling, a former company employee. The DOJ took over the case in 2017. Medicare Advantage is the privately run alternative to the traditional Medicare program for seniors.
"After more than a decade of DOJ's wasteful and expensive challenge to our Medicare Advantage business, the Special Master concluded there was no evidence to support the DOJ's claims we were overpaid or that we did anything wrong," UnitedHealth spokesperson Heather Soule said in a statement.
Wyn Hornbuckle, a spokesperson for the Justice Department, said the agency wouldn't comment on the ruling, which was filed in federal court in Los Angeles. Attorneys for whistleblower Poehling had no comment.
Medicare pays Advantage health plans higher rates to cover sicker patients but requires that their conditions be properly documented in medical records.
The DOJ alleges Medicare paid UnitedHealth Group more than $7.2 billion from 2009 through 2016 based on the company's efforts to boost revenue by reviewing patient records to find additional diagnoses and adding medical billing codes to their files. According to the DOJ, Medicare would have paid the company $2.1 billion less if it had deleted unsupported billing codes.
The Justice Department also alleged that in these chart reviews, the health insurance giant ignored overcharges that might have reduced bills.
But the special master, who was appointed by U.S. District Judge Fernando Olguin, concluded the government's case "depends entirely on speculation and assumptions about what the codes found by the United coders actually mean."
"If this stands, I think it is a major defeat for the government," said William Hanagami, an attorney who represented a different whistleblower in one of the earliest cases alleging billing fraud by a Medicare Advantage insurance company. Hanagami said he expects the government to appeal the decision.
Segal noted that UnitedHealth executives told Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services officials about its chart review policies at an April 2014 meeting. At the time, CMS was considering a regulation to restrict use of chart reviews, but the agency backed off the regulation under pressure from the insurance industry. At the time, a CMS official described the industry's response as an "uproar."
The special master noted that United had requested the meeting with CMS officials, which she called "the opposite of concealment."
"The problem with the government's allegations is that the government knew of the very chart review practices which it now claims United prevented it from learning, and thus the government cannot have been duped into relying on any action or inaction by United in determining whether it had been the victim of overpayments," Segal wrote.
Segal noted CMS audits of UnitedHealth's Medicare Advantage plans had found that about 89% of billing codes were supported by patient medical records. The audit findings "undercut" the government's claim that the company engaged in widespread overbilling.
"This litigation has been pending for more than a decade," she wrote, "and the government has had ample opportunity to develop evidence in support of its theories. It has not."
The decision comes as UnitedHealth faces renewed investigations into its handling of Medicare Advantage coding, including a new Justice Department review.
Medicare Advantage insurance plans have grown explosively in recent years and now enroll about 33 million members, more than half of people eligible for Medicare.
The industry has been the target of dozens of whistleblower lawsuits and government audits alleging that the plans cost taxpayers too much money, including a demand last month by Senate Judiciary Committee chair Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa) that UnitedHealth explain its billing practices.
In his mid-80s, he had a stroke. Then lymphoma. Then prostate cancer. He was fatigued, isolated, not all that steady on his feet.
Then Tsubaki took part in an innovative care initiative that, over four months, sent an occupational therapist, a nurse, and a handy worker to his home to help figure out what he needed to stay safe. In addition to grab bars and rails, the handy worker built a bookshelf so neither Tsubaki nor the books he cherished would topple over when he reached for them.
Reading "is kind of the back door for my cognitive health — my brain exercise," said Tsubaki, a longtime community college teacher. Now 87, he lives independently and walks a mile and a half almost every day.
The program that helped Tsubaki remain independent, called Community Aging in Place: Advancing Better Living for Elders, or CAPABLE, has been around for 15 years and is offered in about 65 places across 26 states. It helps people 60 and up, and some younger people with disabilities or limitations, who want to remain at home but have trouble with activities like bathing, dressing, or moving around safely. Several published studies have found the program saves money and prevents falls, which the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says contribute to the deaths of 41,000 older Americans and cost Medicare about $50 billion each year.
Despite evidence and accolades, CAPABLE remains small, serving roughly 4,600 people to date. Insurance seldom covers it (although the typical cost of $3,500 to $4,000 per client is less than many health care interventions). Traditional Medicare and most Medicare Advantage private insurance plans don't cover it. Only four states use funds from Medicaid,the federal-state program for low-income and disabled people. CAPABLE gets by on a patchwork of grants from places like state agencies for aging and philanthropies.
The payment obstacles are an object lesson in how insurers, including Medicare, are built around paying for doctors and hospitals treating people who are injured or sick — not around community services that keep people healthy. Medicare has billing codes for treating a broken hip, but not for avoiding one, let alone for something like having a handy person "tack down loose carpet near stairs."
And while keeping someone alive longer may be a desirable outcome, it's not necessarily counted as savings under federal budget rules. A 2017 Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services evaluation found that CAPABLE had high satisfaction rates and some savings. But its limited size made it hard to assess the long-term economic impact.
It's unclear how the Trump administration will approach senior care.
The barriers to broader state or federal financing are frustrating, said Sarah Szanton, who helped create CAPABLE while working as a nurse practitioner doing home visits in west Baltimore. Some patients struggled to reach the door to open it for her. One tossed keys to her out of a second-story window, she recalled.
Seeking a solution, Szanton discovered a program called ABLE, which brought an occupational therapist and a handy worker to the home. Inspired by its success, Szanton developed CAPABLE, which added a nurse to check on medications, pain, and mental well-being, and do things like help participants communicate with doctors. It began in 2008. Szanton since 2021 has been the dean of Johns Hopkins University School of Nursing, which coordinates research on CAPABLE. The model is participatory, with the client and care team "problem-solving and brainstorming together," said Amanda Goodenow, an occupational therapist who worked in hospitals and traditional home health before joining CAPABLE in Denver, where she also works for the CAPABLE National Center, the nonprofit that runs the program.
CAPABLE doesn't profess to fix all the gaps in U.S. long-term care, and it doesn't work with all older people. Those with dementia, for example, don't qualify. But studies show it does help participants live more safely at home with greater mobility. And one study that Szanton co-authored estimated Medicare savings of around $20,000 per person would continue for two years after a CAPABLE intervention.
"To us, it's so obvious the impact that can be made just in a short amount of time and with a small budget," said Amy Eschbach, a nurse who has worked with CAPABLE clients in the St. Louis area, where a Medicare Advantage plan covers CAPABLE. That St. Louis program caps spending on home modifications at $1,300 a person.
Both Hill staff and CMS experts who have looked at CAPABLE do see potential routes to broader coverage. One senior Democratic House aide, who asked not to be identified because they were not allowed to speak publicly, said Medicare would have to establish careful parameters. For instance, CMS would have to decide which beneficiaries would be eligible. Everyone in Medicare? Or only those with low incomes? Could Medicare somehow ensure that only necessary home modifications are made — and that unscrupulous contractors don't try to extract the equivalent of a "copay" or "deductible" from clients?
Szanton said there are safeguards and more could be built in. For instance, it's the therapists like Goodenow, not the handy workers, who put in the work orders to stay on budget.
For Tsubaki, whose books are not only shelved but organized by topic, the benefits have endured.
"I became more independent. I'm able to handle most of my activities. I go shopping, to the library, and so forth," he said. His pace is slow, he acknowledged. But he gets there.
Kenen is the journalist-in-residence and a faculty member at Johns Hopkins University School of Public Health. She is not affiliated with the CAPABLE program.
A growing number of states have made it easier for doctors who trained in other countries to get medical licenses, a shift supporters say could ease physician shortages in rural areas.
The changes involve residency programs — the supervised, hands-on training experience that doctors must complete after graduating medical school. Until recently, every state required physicians who completed a residency or similar training abroad to repeat the process in the U.S. before obtaining a full medical license.
Since 2023, at least nine states have dropped this requirement for some doctors with international training, according to the Federation of State Medical Boards. More than a dozen other states are considering similar legislation.
About 26% of doctors who practice in the U.S. were born elsewhere, according to the Migration Policy Institute. They need federal visas to live in the U.S., plus state licenses to practice medicine.
Proponents of the new laws say qualified doctors shouldn't have to spend years completing a second residency training. Opponents worry about patient safety and doubt the licensing change will ease the doctor shortage.
Lawmakers in Republican- and Democratic-leaning states have approved the idea at a time when many other immigration-related programs are under attack. They include Florida, Iowa, Idaho, Illinois, Louisiana, Massachusetts, Tennessee, Virginia, and Wisconsin.
President Donald Trump has defended a federal visa program that many foreign doctors rely on, but they could still be hampered by his broad efforts to tighten immigration rules.
Supporters of the new licensing laws include Zalmai Afzali, an internal medicine doctor who finished medical school and a residency program in Afghanistan before fleeing the Taliban and coming to the U.S. in 2001.
He said most physicians trained elsewhere would be happy to work in rural or other underserved areas.
"I would go anywhere as long as they let me work," said Afzali, who now treats patients who live in rural areas and small cities in northeastern Virginia. "I missed being a physician. I missed what I did."
It took Afzali 12 years to obtain copies of his diploma and transcript, study for exams, and finish a three-year U.S.-based residency program before he could be fully licensed to practice as a doctor in his new country.
But a commission of national health organizations questions whether loosening residency requirements for foreign-trained doctors would ease the shortage. Doctors in these programs could still face licensing and employment barriers, it wrote in a report that makes recommendations without taking a stance on such legislation.
Erin Fraher, a health policy professor at the University of North Carolina who advises the commission and studies the issue, said lawmakers who support the changes predict they will boost the rural health workforce. But it's unclear whether that will happen, she said, because the programs are just getting started.
"I think the potential is there, but we need to see how this pans out," Fraher said.
Afzali struggled to support his family while trying to get his medical license. His jobs included working at a department store for $7.25 an hour and administering chemotherapy for $20 an hour. Afzali said nurse practitioners at the latter job had less training than him but earned nearly four times as much.
"I do not know how I did it," he said. "I mean, you get really depressed."
Many of the state bills to ease residency requirements have been based on model legislation from the Cicero Institute, a conservative think tank that sent representatives to testify to legislatures after proposing such programs in 2020.
The new pathways are open only to internationally trained physicians who meet certain conditions. Common requirements include working as a physician for several years after graduating from a medical school and residency program with similar rigor to those found in the U.S. They also must pass the standard three-part exam that all physicians take to become licensed in the U.S.
Those who qualify are granted a restricted license to practice, and most states require them to do so under supervision of another physician. They can receive full licensure after several years.
About 10 of the laws or bills also require the doctors to work for several years in a rural or underserved area.
But states without this requirement, such as Tennessee, may not see an impact in rural areas, researchers from Harvard Medical School and Rand Corp. argued in the New England Journal of Medicine. In addition to including that condition, states could offer incentives to rural hospitals that agree to hire doctors from the new training pathways, they wrote.
Lawmakers, physicians, and health organizations that oppose the changes say there are better ways to safely increase the number of rural doctors.
Barbara Parker is a registered nurse and former Republican lawmaker in Arizona, where the legislature is considering a bill for at least the fourth year in a row.
"It's a really poor answer to the doctor shortage," said Parker, who voted against the legislation last year.
Parker said making it easier for foreign-trained physicians to practice in the U.S. would unethically poach doctors from countries with greater health care needs. And she said she doubts that all international residencies are on par with those in the U.S. and worries that granting licenses to physicians who trained in them could lead to poor care for patients.
She is also concerned that hospitals are trying to save money by recruiting internationally trained doctors over those trained in the U.S. The former often will accept lower pay, Parker said.
"This is driven by corporate greed," she said.
Parker said better ways to increase the number of rural doctors include raising pay, expanding loan repayment programs for those who practice in rural areas, and creating accelerated training for nurse practitioners and physician assistants who want to become doctors.
The advisory commission — recently formed by the Federation of State Medical Boards, the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education, and Intealth, a nonprofit that evaluates international medical schools and their graduates — published its recommendations to help lawmakers and medical boards make sure these new pathways are safe and effective.
The commission and Fraher said state medical boards should collect data on the new rules, such as how many doctors participate, what their specialties are, and where they work once they gain their full licenses. The results could be compared with other methods of easing the rural doctor shortage, such as adding residency programs at rural hospitals.
"What is the benefit of this particular pathway relative to other levers that they have?" Fraher said.
The commission noted that while state medical boards can rely on an outside organization that evaluates the strength of foreign medical schools, there isn't a similar rating for residency programs. Such an effort is expected to launch in mid-2025, the commission said.
The group also said states should require supervising physicians to evaluate participants before they're granted a full license.
Afzali, the physician from Afghanistan, said some internationally trained primary care doctors have more training than their U.S. counterparts, because they had to practice procedures that are done only by specialists in the U.S.
But he agreed with the commission's recommendation that states require doctors who did residencies abroad to have supervision while they hold a provisional license. That would help ensure patient safety while also helping the physicians adjust to cultural differences and learn the technical side of the U.S. health system, such as billing and electronic health records, the commission wrote.
Fraher noted that doctors in programs with supervision requirements need to find an experienced colleague with the time and interest in providing this oversight at a health facility willing to hire them.
The commission pointed out other potential hurdles, such as malpractice insurers possibly declining to cover physicians who obtain state licenses without completing a U.S. residency. The commission and the American Board of Medical Specialties also pointed to the issue of specialty certification, which is managed by national organizations that have their own residency requirements.
Physicians who aren't eligible to take board exams could lose out on employment opportunities, and patients might have concerns about their qualifications, the board wrote. But it said a majority of its member boards would consider certifying these doctors if states added requirements it recommended.
Lawmakers' plans to use these new licensing pathways to increase the number of rural doctors will require the foreign-trained doctors to navigate all these obstacles and unknowns, Fraher said.
"There's a lot of things that need to happen to make this a reality," she said.
Jagdish Whitten was on a run in July 2023 when a car hit him as he crossed a busy San Francisco street. Whitten, then 25, described doing "a little flip" over the vehicle and landing in the street before getting himself to the curb.
Concerned onlookers called an ambulance. But Whitten instead had friends pick him up and take him to a nearby hospital, the Helen Diller Medical Center, operated by the University of California-San Francisco.
"I knew that ambulances were expensive, and I didn't think I was going to die," he said.
Whitten said doctors treated him for a mild concussion, a broken toe, and bruises.
As he sat in a hospital bed, attached to an IV and wearing a neck brace, Whitten said, doctors told him that because he had suffered a traumatic injury, they had to send him by ambulance to the city's only trauma center, Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital.
After a short ambulance ride, Whitten said, emergency room doctors checked him out, told him he had already received appropriate treatment, and released him.
Then the bill came.
The Medical Procedure
Traumatic injuries are those that threaten life or limb, and some facilities specialize in providing care for them. For someone hit by a car, that can include stabilizing vital signs, screening for internal injuries, and treating broken bones and concussions. Zuckerberg Hospital is a Level 1 trauma center, meaning it can provide any care needed for severely injured patients.
In emergency medicine, it is standard to transfer patients to centers best equipped to provide care. Ambulances are typically used for transfers because they are able to handle trauma patients, with tools to aid in resuscitation, immobilization, and life support.
At the first hospital, Whitten said, doctors performed a thorough workup, including a CT scan and X-rays, and advised him to follow up with his primary care physician and an orthopedic doctor. He was evaluated at the second hospital and released without additional treatment, he said.
The Final Bill
$12,872.99 for a 6-mile ambulance ride between hospitals: a $11,670.11 base rate, $737.16 for mileage, $314.45 for EKG monitoring, and $151.27 for "infection control."
The Billing Problem: Surprise Bills Are Common With Ground Ambulances
Ground ambulance services are operated by a hodgepodge of private and public entities — with no uniform structure, or regulatory oversight, for billing — and most function outside insurance networks. Patients don't typically have a choice of ambulance provider.
There are state and federal laws shielding patients from out-of-network ambulance bills, but none of those protections applied in Whitten's case.
Whitten was insured under his father's employer-sponsored health plan from Anthem Blue Cross. So when he received a nearly $13,000 bill months after his short transfer ride, he sent a photo of it to his dad.
Brian Whitten said the bills from the two hospitals — and the family's out-of-pocket responsibility — were in line with what he had anticipated. But he was stunned by his son's ambulance bill from AMR, one of the nation's largest ambulance providers. Anthem Blue Cross denied the claim, saying the ambulance was out-of-network and required pre-authorization.
"It didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, because the doctor is the one who put him in the ambulance," Brian Whitten said. "It's not like somehow he just decided, ‘Hey, can I take an ambulance ride?'"
Kristen Bole, a UCSF spokesperson, said in a statement that the health system's standard of care is to stabilize patients and, when appropriate, transfer them to other medical facilities that are most appropriate to care for patients' needs, adding that ambulance transfers between hospitals are standard practice.
While the medical system at large relies on negotiated prices for services, ambulance services operate largely outside of the competitive marketplace, said Patricia Kelmar, senior director of health care campaigns for PIRG, a nonpartisan consumer protection and good-government advocacy organization.
Ambulance transfers between hospitals to ensure the highest quality of care available are fairly common, Kelmar said. And with many hospitals being purchased and consolidated, it would follow that the number of ambulance transfers between facilities could increase as specialized medical units at any given hospital are downsized or eliminated, she said.
According to a study of private insurance claims data conducted in 2023, about 80% of ground ambulance rides resulted in out-of-network billing.
Generally, out-of-network providers may charge patients for the remainder of their bill after insurance pays. In some cases, patients can be on the hook even when they did not knowingly choose the out-of-network provider. These bills are known as "surprise" bills.
"It's a financial burden, a significant financial burden," said Kelmar, who is a member of the committee created to advise federal lawmakers on surprise bills and emergency ambulance transportation.
Eighteen states have implemented laws regulating surprise ambulance billing. A California law cracking down on surprise ambulance billing took effect on Jan. 1, 2024 — months after Jagdish Whitten's ambulance ride.
But Kelmar said those state laws don't really help people with employer-sponsored insurance, because those plans are beyond state control — which is why federal legislation is so important, she said.
As of 2022, federal law protects patients from receiving some surprise bills, especially for emergency services. But while lawmakers included protections against air ambulance bills in the law, known as the No Surprises Act, they excluded ground ambulance transports.
The Resolution
Whitten's father filed an insurance appeal on his son's behalf, which Anthem granted. The insurer paid AMR $9,966.60.
Michael Bowman, a spokesperson for Anthem, said AMR had not submitted all the information it required to process the claim, leading to the initial denial. After consulting with AMR, Anthem paid its coverage amount, Bowman said.
But the insurer's payment still left Whitten with a $2,906.39 bill for his out-of-network ambulance ride. Brian Whitten said he called an AMR customer service number several times to contest the remaining charges but was unable to bypass its automated system and speak with a human.
"I couldn't find a way to talk to somebody about this bill other than how to pay it, and I didn't want to pay it," he said.
Unsuccessful and frustrated, Brian Whitten paid the remaining bill in January 2024, he said, concerned it would be turned over to a collection agency and hurt his son's credit — and his well-being.
There was one more twist: He was shocked when he later reviewed his credit card statements and discovered that AMR had quietly but fully refunded his payment in October.
"It's amazing that he got his money back," Kelmar said. "That's what's shocking."
In a statement, Suzie Robinson, vice president of revenue cycle management with AMR, said the company's third-party billing agency regularly performs audits to ensure accuracy. An audit of Jagdish Whitten's bill "revealed that the care provided did not meet the criteria for critical care," Robinson said, which prompted the full refund.
Robinson said audits indicated fewer than 1% of its 4 million medical encounters annually are billed incorrectly.
The Takeaway
Robinson said patients who feel that AMR has billed them incorrectly should contact the company via email.
For patients in need of an ambulance in an emergency, there are few protections — and usually few options: Sometimes you don't have a better choice than to get in.
Federal protections require that health plans cover certain surprise bills, with patients paying only what they would if they had received in-network care. Expanding those protections to ground ambulance bills would require Congress to act.
Ambulance providers deserve to be appropriately compensated for their vital role in our medical system, Kelmar said. But the system as it stands almost incentivizes providers to charge a higher rate, which can lead to surprise billing and financial hardship for patients and their families, she said.
Kelmar said she worries not just about the debt those bills create for consumers but also that people may decline vital ambulance transportation in an emergency, for fear of getting hit with an exorbitant bill.
"We just need to bring some sense back to the system," she said.
Bill of the Month is a crowdsourced investigation by KFF Health News and The Washington Post's Well+Being that dissects and explains medical bills. Since 2018, this series has helped many patients and readers get their medical bills reduced, and it has been cited in statehouses, at the U.S. Capitol, and at the White House. Do you have a confusing or outrageous medical bill you want to share? Tell us about it!
The lobby at this St. John's Community Health clinic in South Los Angeles bustles with patients. But community health worker Ana Ruth Varela is worried that it's about to get a lot quieter. Many patients, she said, are afraid to leave their homes.
"The other day I spoke with one of the patients. She said: 'I don't know. Should I go to my appointment? Should I cancel? I don't know what to do.' And I said, 'Just come.'"
Since Donald Trump's return to the White House, fear of mass deportations carried out by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has gripped immigrant communities.
For years, a long-standing policy prevented federal immigration agents from making arrests at or near sensitive locations, including schools, places of worship, hospitals, and health centers. It was one of the first policies Trump rolled back in January, just hours after his inauguration.
Acting Department of Homeland Security Secretary Benjamine Huffman revoked the directive on Jan. 21. In an accompanying press release, a DHS spokesperson said the action would assist agents searching for immigrants who have committed crimes. "The Trump Administration will not tie the hands of our brave law enforcement, and instead trusts them to use common sense," the statement said.
The speed of the change took Darryn Harris by surprise.
"I thought we had more time," said Harris, chief government affairs and community relations officer for St. John's.
Harris is racing to teach more than 1,000 St. John's workers how to read warrants as they train for a new role — teaching patients their constitutional rights.
California Attorney General Rob Bonta, a Democrat, is advising clinics to post information about patients' right to remain silent and to provide patients with contact information for legal-aid groups.
Bonta is also urging health care providers to avoid including patients' immigration status in bills and medical records. His office directs that while staff should not physically obstruct immigration agents, they are under no obligation to assist with an arrest.
Even though immigration arrests took place in hospitals during Trump's first term, the overall policy was still one of deference to "sensitive locations." Now, however, DHS states that the previous rules hindered law enforcement efforts by creating sites where people without legal status could evade capture.
Matt Lopas, director of state advocacy and technical assistance for the National Immigration Law Center, said that in order for immigration officers to access health information or go into private spaces such as exam rooms, they must present a warrant signed by a judge.
"It's incredibly important that every health care center has somebody who is trained to be able to read those warrants" and determine their validity, Lopas said.
In the San Francisco Bay Area, Zenaida Aguilera has been tapped to read warrants for La Clínica de La Raza. She is the compliance, privacy, and risk officer for the clinic network. If immigration agents show up, she's on call for all 31 of the organization's community clinics.
Aguilera is also now in charge of training hundreds of health staffers. She has trained about 250 thus far, but the majority of that work is yet to come.
"We have about, probably, a thousand more staff," she said.
She fears the Trump administration will target California for immigration enforcement because of its approximately 2 million residents without legal status, the highest of any state, according to the Pew Research Center. In 2022, 11 million people were in the U.S. without authorization.
Aguilera said La Clínica plans to post patients' constitutional rights in clinic lobbies and will provide resources such as contact information for legal-aid groups.
"We would like to just do the work of caring for our patients rather than train our staff on what to do if there's an ICE official that tries to come into our clinics," Aguilera said.
This article is from a partnership that includes NPR and KFF Health News.
HELENA, Mont. — Despite concerns about what Congress and the Trump administration might have planned for Medicaid, Montana's Republican-led legislature and GOP governor appear ready to keep the state's Medicaid expansion program in place beyond its scheduled end date this summer.
State lawmakers don't have the luxury of waiting until the federal picture sharpens. They must decide before the session ends in early May whether to lift a June 30 sunset date for the expansion program, which covers about 76,000 adults.
However, the likelihood that significant changes lie ahead for the joint federal-state Medicaid program has spurred discussion of whether legislators should — or can — prepare for what may be coming. That's the challenge for lawmakers this session, said Republican state Rep. Jane Gillette during a recent meeting of the budget subcommittee she chairs that works on the Medicaid budget.
"What are the different options we have for bracing ourselves for that?" Gillette said.
The U.S. House is working on a budget bill to reflect President Donald Trump's priorities, including allocating up to $4.5 trillion to extend tax cuts that would otherwise expire.
A plan passed by the House Budget Committee on Feb. 13 calls for $880 billion in cuts over the next 10 years for the committee that oversees, among other things, Medicaid spending. Ideas reportedly under discussion include federal work requirements for some Medicaid enrollees and a decrease in the share of costs the federal government pays for people covered by the expansion program.
Some of the proposals would shift significant costs to the states, noted Robin Rudowitz, a vice president and the director of the Program on Medicaid and the Uninsured at KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes KFF Health News. If that happens, states will need to raise revenue or cut spending elsewhere to continue the same level of Medicaid coverage, she said.
There are "no easy answers or options for states in these scenarios," she said.
The GOP-controlled Montana House of Representatives easily passed a bill to make the Medicaid expansion program permanent on Feb. 10 by a 63-37 vote. Then on Feb. 20, House Bill 245 passed the first of two votes required for Senate approval. Gov. Greg Gianforte has not publicly said whether he would sign the bill, but he previously said he believes the expansion program should continue if strong work requirements are in place.
In late January, the budget subcommittee that Gillette chairs was reviewing Medicaid expansion's financial implications when talk quickly turned to the possible federal changes, particularly a drop in the federal matching rate.
Republican state Sen. Carl Glimm noted that observers have called a lower federal matching rate "pretty low-hanging fruit." The change would require congressional action, though, and members noted that could take time.
The federal government pays 90% of the health care costs of expansion enrollees. That group is made up of adults ages 19 to 64 without disabilities and who have annual incomes at or below 138% of the federal poverty level, or $21,597 for an individual.
Until the federal Affordable Care Act allowed states to extend Medicaid to this group, the program was generally limited to low-income children, pregnant women, and adults who are blind, disabled, or at least 65. The federal match for those groups in Montana will be about 62% in the next state fiscal year, which begins in July.
The state spent nearly $1 billion on Medicaid expansion in 2024, with its share of the costs totaling just under $100 million. Budget committee staff said a 10% reduction in the federal share would add roughly $100 million in state costs. If the state's share goes from 10% to the regular state match of 38%, the state would pay about $280 million more a year for expansion.
Subcommittee member Russ Tempel, a Republican senator, noted that the federal share changed in the past due to unexpected events, such as covid-19.
"Something's going to happen that's unpredictable," he said. "It's happened before, and it's going to happen again, so we're kind of a little bit shooting in the dark."
But Republican Sen. Jeremy Trebas focused on the likely federal changes when urging senators to support his bill to tighten the work requirements in current law and, if federal approval were denied, eventually end the program.
"We should match up our state policy to coming federal policy so that we're not caught off guard and expectations aren't radically altered by what the federal government does," he said during a committee hearing on Senate Bill 199.
The bill died last week on the Senate floor when all Democrats voted against it, along with a block of nine Republicans who have broken with their party on other issues this session. Roughly the same coalition also killed a bill by Glimm that would have phased out the expansion.
Trebas said recently he expects HB 245 to pass but also believes that federal Medicaid changes could happen more quickly than some think possible, forcing a special Montana legislative session to adjust to those changes.
Gillette, who voted against HB 245, said in a recent interview that the legislature should provide the Gianforte administration with a range of options to allow it to "course correct" without further legislative involvement if Medicaid expansion continues and federal changes come down before the legislature meets again in 2027.
State Senate President Matt Regier introduced a bill Feb. 15 to limit the expansion population to people below 100% of the federal poverty level and to give the state health agency the ability to limit spending or improve program integrity.
Regier's bill also would make the expansion program contingent on the federal government approving a "community engagement" waiver, which includes work requirements, and it calls for lawmakers to vote on whether to hold a special session if the federal Medicaid matching rate drops more than three months before the next regular session.
But HB 245 sponsor Rep. Ed Buttrey, another Republican, said in a recent interview that existing law takes care of any future decrease in federal support by requiring either the state to increase premiums for the program or the legislature to appropriate additional funds if the program is to continue.
Buttrey also said the legislature can't make decisions now based on what federal law might be in the future. He said it's unlikely that federal Medicaid policy would change quickly, but that if it did, the program affects such a large percentage of the state's population that a special session would be warranted.
"I can't think of one that's more important than that," he said.