The Rural Emergency Hospital program is the first new federal payment model for hospitals since 1997.

This article was published on Tuesday, January 16, 2024 in KFF Health News.

By Sarah Jane Tribble and Tony Leys

KEOKUK, Iowa — Folks in this Mississippi River town hope a new federal program can revive the optimism engraved long ago in a plaque on the side of their hospital.

"Dedicated to the Future of Health Care in the Tri-State Area," the sign declares. "May 11, 1981."

More recent placards posted at the facility's entryways are ominous, however. "Closed," they say. "No Trespassing."

The Keokuk hospital, which served rural areas of Iowa, Illinois, and Missouri, closed in October 2022. But new owners plan to reopen the hospital with the help of a new federal payment system. The Rural Emergency Hospital program guarantees hospitals extra cash if they provide emergency and outpatient services but end inpatient care.

"We've been without a hospital for over a year — and I don't think anybody in Keokuk or the surrounding areas will be picky in any way, shape, or form," said Kathie Mahoney, mayor of the town of about 9,800 people. She said residents would prefer to have a full-service hospital with inpatient beds, even though those types of beds had been used sparingly in recent years.

The revival of the Keokuk hospital would mark a small victory in the nationwide struggle to save rural hospitals, which continue to close due to staffing shortages, low reimbursement rates, and declining patient numbers. The new federal program, which went into effect in January 2023, is meant to stem the closures. But there have been growing pains, said George Pink, deputy director of the North Carolina Rural Health Research Program, which tracks hospital closures and conversions.

Just 18 of the more than 1,700 eligible rural hospitals nationwide have applied for and won the new designation. Many hospitals are reluctant to give up inpatient services entirely, and some are concerned about how other payment streams could be affected, rural health leaders say. The new designation's unclear definition of "rural" has also caused confusion.

"We are still in an era of rural hospital closures," Pink said. Nine hospitals closed in 2023, and that number could rise in 2024, he said. An influx of federal relief funds during the pandemic kept struggling hospitals afloat, but now that money is largely gone.

The Rural Emergency Hospital program is the first new federal payment model for hospitals since 1997. Dora Hughes, acting chief medical officer of the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services, said the new model's criteria are outlined by statute and "hospitals should consider specific circumstances before making the decision to apply."

The federal agency is providing outreach to rural communities and welcomes feedback, Hughes wrote in an email to KFF Health News.

Now, rural health leaders and federal lawmakers are working quickly to tweak the new program to attract more applicants, said Carrie Cochran-McClain, chief policy officer of the National Rural Health Association.

Currently, facilities that convert to rural emergency hospitals receive a 5% increase in Medicare payments, plus an average annual payment of about $3.2 million, in exchange for giving up their expensive inpatient beds and focusing solely on emergency and outpatient care. Rural hospitals with no more than 50 beds, like Keokuk's, that closed after the law was signed on Dec. 27, 2020, are eligible to apply for the program and reopen with emergency and outpatient services.

More than 100 rural hospitals nationwide have inquired about converting, said Janice Walters, interim executive director for the Rural Health Redesign Center, which has a federal grant to provide technical assistance to hospitals that want to apply.

But only about a quarter of those inquiries are likely to become a rural emergency hospital, and persuading more troubled hospitals to make the leap would require regulators to make changes, Walters said.

Her advice? "Give them 10 beds to just take care of their community."

In a journal article published last year, general surgeon Sara Schaefer worried about the unintended consequences of getting rid of rural inpatient beds. Schaefer, who spent six months of medical school at a small rural Idaho hospital, said she saw firsthand how difficult it was for the hospital to transfer patients to bigger facilities, which were often too full to take them.

"There has to be a better way," said Schaefer, who is also a research fellow at the Center for Healthcare Outcomes & Policy at the University of Michigan.

The rural health association's Cochran-McClain said lawmakers are considering changes that could allow the hospitals to:

• Keep overnight beds for patients who need moderate levels of care, such as those with pneumonia or in need of physical therapy after surgery.
   
• Allow participation in a federal drug discount program called 340B, which provides hospitals with extra revenue.
   
• Keep inpatient psychiatric or rehabilitation units open.
   
• Clarify eligibility, including which facilities qualify under the definition of "rural" and whether the hospitals that closed before the 2020 date in the law can apply.

Updates to the law could affect communities nationwide. In Fort Scott, Kansas, where the hospital closed in late 2018, Mayor Matthew Wells said the community wants the eligibility date pushed back. U.S. Sen. Jerry Moran (R-Kan.) introduced a bill in December that, if passed, would push eligibility back to 2015.

"This is a matter of life and death to my community," Wells said. "I see a clear path, but the federal regulations in particular make that path nearly impossible."

In Holly Springs, Mississippi, hospital chief executive Kenneth Williams said he doesn't understand the federal definition of "rural." His hospital, Alliance Healthcare Hospital, was one of the first to win the new Rural Emergency Hospital designation in early 2023. He laid off staff and shut down his inpatient beds. Then, CMS officials called to tell him they had made a mistake.

"And I said, 'Wait a minute,'" Williams said. The hospital, which is about an hour south of Memphis, Tennessee, doesn't meet the current criteria of rural, they told him. Williams, an internal medicine doctor, bought the hospital in 1999 and has been trying to keep it running since.

Federal regulators are now asking Williams to convert the facility into another type of Medicare payment model, such as the sole community hospital with inpatient beds that it was before. Williams said that would be difficult: "What kind of transition can I make, especially with reduced services?"

In Keokuk, the hospital fits the current requirements. Insight Health Group, the Michigan company that bought the shuttered facility last March, plans to apply for the new federal designation as soon as it obtains state permits under new Iowa regulations tailored to rural emergency hospitals. It would be the first such hospital in the state.

Like many other rural hospitals struggling to survive, Keokuk's shuttered several key departments years ago, including its birthing and inpatient psychiatric units. In 2021, the last full year it was open, the hospital averaged fewer than three inpatients per night, according to data posted by the Iowa Hospital Association.

More than half of the three-story building would remain mothballed if the facility reopened under the new designation, but the emergency department could serve patients again as soon as late summer, said Atif Bawahab, Insight"s chief strategy officer.

Bruce Mackie has worked 32 years at the hospital, including 10 years as director of plant operations. The new owners kept him on to watch over the building. Beds, high-tech scanners, and lab equipment remain, but most of the clocks have stopped. "It's spooky," he said.

Even if the services are more limited than before, Mackie said, "everybody wants the hospital to reopen. This city needs an ER."

Sarah Jane Tribble: sjtribble@kff.org, @SJTribble

Tony Leys: tleys@kff.org, @tonyleys

An increase in costs amid lower payments from insurance plans makes it harder for small hospitals to fund large capital improvement projects.

This article was published on Friday, January 12, 2024 in KFF Health News.

By Markian Hawryluk

Kevin Stansbury, the CEO of Lincoln Community Hospital in the 800-person town of Hugo, Colorado, is facing a classic Catch-22: He could boost his rural hospital's revenues by offering hip replacements and shoulder surgeries, but the 64-year-old hospital needs more money to be able to expand its operating room to do those procedures.

"I've got a surgeon that's willing to do it. My facility isn't big enough," Stansbury said. "And urgent services like obstetrics I can't do in my hospital, because my facility won't meet code."

Besides securing additional revenue for the hospital, such an expansion could keep locals from having to drive the 100 miles to Denver for orthopedic surgeries or to deliver babies.

Rural hospitals throughout the nation are facing a similar conundrum. An increase in costs amid lower payments from insurance plans makes it harder for small hospitals to fund large capital improvement projects. And high inflation and rising interest rates coming out of the pandemic are making it tougher for aging facilities to qualify for loans or other types of financing to upgrade their facilities to meet the ever-changing standards of medical care.

"Most of us are operating at very low margins, if any margin at all," Stansbury said. "So, we're struggling to find the money."

Aging hospital infrastructure, particularly in rural areas, is a growing concern. Data on the age of hospitals is hard to come by, because hospitals expand, upgrade, and refurbish different parts of their facilities over time. A 2017 analysis by the American Society for Health Care Engineering, a part of the American Hospital Association, found that the average age of hospitals in the U.S. increased from 8.6 years in 1994 to 11.5 years in 2015. That number has likely grown, industry insiders say, as many hospitals delayed capital improvement projects, particularly during the pandemic.

Research published in 2021 by the capital planning firm Facility Health Inc., now called Brightly, found that U.S. health care facilities had deferred about 41% of their maintenance and would need $243 billion to complete the backlog.

Rural hospitals don't have the resources of larger hospitals, particularly those in hospital chains, to fund billion-dollar expansions.

Most of today's rural hospitals were opened with funding from the Hill-Burton Act, passed by Congress in 1946. That program was rolled into the Public Health Service Act in the 1970s and, by 1997, had funded the construction of nearly 7,000 hospitals and clinics. Now, many of those buildings, particularly those in rural areas, are in dire need of improvements.

Stansbury, who is also board chair of the Colorado Hospital Association, said at least a half-dozen rural hospitals in the state need significant capital investment.

Harold Miller, president and CEO of the Center for Healthcare Quality and Payment Reform, a think tank in Pittsburgh, said the major problem for small rural hospitals is that private insurance is no longer covering the full cost of providing care. Medicare Advantage, a program under which Medicare pays private plans to provide coverage for seniors and people with disabilities, is a major contributor to the problem, he said.

"You're basically taking patients away from what may be the best payer that the small hospital has, and pushing those patients onto a private insurance plan, which doesn't pay the same way that traditional Medicare pays and ends up also using a variety of techniques to deny claims," Miller said.

Rural hospitals also must staff their emergency rooms with physicians round-the-clock, but the hospitals get paid only if someone comes in.

Meanwhile, labor costs coming out of the pandemic have increased, and inflation has driven up the cost of supplies. Those financial headwinds will likely push more rural hospitals out of business. Hospital closures dropped during the pandemic, from a record 18 closures in 2020 to a combined eight closures in 2021 and 2022, according to the Cecil G. Sheps Center for Health Services Research at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, as emergency relief funds kept them open. But that life support has ended, and at least nine more closed in 2023. Miller said closures are reverting to pre-pandemic rates.

That raises concerns that some hospitals might invest in new facilities and end up shutting down anyway. Miller said only a small portion of rural hospitals might be able to make a meaningful difference to their bottom lines by adding new services.

Lawmakers have tried to help. California, for example, has loan programs charging low to no interest that rural hospitals can participate in, and hospital representatives are urging Colorado legislators to approve similar support.

At the federal level, Rep. Yadira Caraveo, a Colorado Democrat, has introduced the bipartisan Rural Health Care Facilities Revitalization Act, which would help rural hospitals get more funding for capital projects through the U.S. Department of Agriculture. The USDA has been one of the largest funders of rural development through its Community Facilities Programs, providing over $3 billion in loans a year. In 2019, half of the more than $10 billion in outstanding loans through the program helped health care facilities.

"Otherwise, facilities would have to go to private lenders," said Carrie Cochran-McClain, chief policy officer for the National Rural Health Association.

Rural hospitals might not be very attractive to private lenders because of their financial constraints, and thus may have to pay higher interest rates or meet additional requirements to get those loans, she said.

Caraveo's bill would also allow hospitals that already have loans to refinance at lower interest rates, and would cover more categories of medical equipment, such as devices and technology used for telehealth.

"We need to keep these places open, even not just for emergencies, but to deliver babies, to have your cardiology appointment," said Caraveo, who is also a pediatrician. "You shouldn't have to drive two, three hours to get it."

Kristin Juliar, a capital resources consultant for the National Organization of State Offices of Rural Health, has been studying the challenges rural hospitals face in borrowing money and planning big projects.

"They're trying to do this while they're doing their regular jobs running a hospital," Juliar said. "A lot of times when there are funding opportunities, for example, the timing may be just too tight for them to put together a project."

Some funding is contingent on the hospital raising matching funds, which may be difficult in distressed rural communities. And most projects require hospitals to cobble together funding from multiple sources, adding complexity. And since these projects often take a long time to put together, rural hospital CEOs or board members sometimes leave before they come to fruition.

"You get going at something and then key people disappear, and then you feel like you're starting all over again," she said.

Expansion of Lincoln Community Hospital could keep locals from having to drive the 100 miles to Denver for orthopedic surgeries or to deliver babies.(Lincoln Health)

The hospital in Hugo opened in 1959 after soldiers coming back from World War II decided that Lincoln County on the eastern Colorado plains needed a hospital. They donated money, materials, land, and labor to build it. The hospital has added four family practice clinics, an attached skilled nursing facility, and an off-site assisted living center. It brings in specialists from Denver and Colorado Springs.

Stansbury would like to build a new hospital roughly double the size of the current 45,000-square-foot facility. With inflation easing and interest rates likely to go down this year, Stansbury hopes to get financing lined up in 2024 and to break ground in 2025.

"The problem is, every day I wake up, it gets more expensive," Stansbury said.

When hospital officials first contemplated building a new hospital three years ago, they estimated a total project cost of about $65 million. But inflation skyrocketed and now interest rates have gone up, pushing the total cost to $75 million.

"If we have to wait another couple of years, we may be pushing up closer to $80 million," Stansbury said. "But we've got to do it. I can't wait five years and think the costs of construction are going to go down."

Markian Hawryluk: MarkianH@kff.org, @MarkianHawryluk

If this AI analysis is so great, why doesn't insurance cover it?

This article was published on Wednesday, January 10, 2024 in KFF Health News.

By Michelle Andrews

As I checked in at a Manhattan radiology clinic for my annual mammogram in November, the front desk staffer reviewing my paperwork asked an unexpected question: Would I like to spend $40 for an artificial intelligence analysis of my mammogram? It's not covered by insurance, she added.

I had no idea how to evaluate that offer. Feeling upsold, I said no. But it got me thinking: Is this something I should add to my regular screening routine? Is my regular mammogram not accurate enough? If this AI analysis is so great, why doesn't insurance cover it?

I'm not the only person posing such questions. The mother of a colleague had a similar experience when she went for a mammogram recently at a suburban Baltimore clinic. She was given a pink pamphlet that said: "You Deserve More. More Accuracy. More Confidence. More power with artificial intelligence behind your mammogram." The price tag was the same: $40. She also declined.

In recent years, AI software that helps radiologists detect problems or diagnose cancer using mammography has been moving into clinical use. The software can store and evaluate large datasets of images and identify patterns and abnormalities that human radiologists might miss. It typically highlights potential problem areas in an image and assesses any likely malignancies. This extra review has enormous potential to improve the detection of suspicious breast masses and lead to earlier diagnoses of breast cancer.

While studies showing better detection rates are extremely encouraging, some radiologists say, more research and evaluation are needed before drawing conclusions about the value of the routine use of these tools in regular clinical practice.

"I see the promise and I hope it will help us," said Etta Pisano, a radiologist who is chief research officer at the American College of Radiology, a professional group for radiologists. However, "it really is ambiguous at this point whether it will benefit an individual woman," she said. "We do need more information."

The radiology clinics that my colleague's mother and I visited are both part of RadNet, a company with a network of more than 350 imaging centers around the country. RadNet introduced its AI product for mammography in New York and New Jersey last February and has since rolled it out in several other states, according to Gregory Sorensen, the company's chief science officer.

Sorensen pointed to research the company conducted with 18 radiologists, some of whom were specialists in breast mammography and some of whom were generalists who spent less than 75% of their time reading mammograms. The doctors were asked to find the cancers in 240 images, with and without AI. Every doctor's performance improved using AI, Sorensen said.

Among all radiologists, "not every doctor is equally good," Sorensen said. With RadNet's AI tool, "it's as if all patients get the benefit of our very top performer."

But is the tech analysis worth the extra cost to patients? There's no easy answer.

"Some people are always going to be more anxious about their mammograms, and using AI may give them more reassurance," said Laura Heacock, a breast imaging specialist at NYU Langone Health's Perlmutter Cancer Center in New York. The health system has developed AI models and is testing the technology with mammograms but doesn't yet offer it to patients, she said.

Still, Heacock said, women shouldn't worry that they need to get an additional AI analysis if it's offered.

"At the end of the day, you still have an expert breast imager interpreting your mammogram, and that is the standard of care," she said.

About 1 in 8 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer during their lifetime, and regular screening mammograms are recommended to help identify cancerous tumors early. But mammograms are hardly foolproof: They miss about 20% of breast cancers, according to the National Cancer Institute.

The FDA has authorized roughly two dozen AI products to help detect and diagnose cancer from mammograms. However, there are currently no billing codes radiologists can use to charge health plans for the use of AI to interpret mammograms. Typically, the federal Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services would introduce new billing codes and private health plans would follow their lead for payment. But that hasn't happened in this field yet and it's unclear when or if it will.

CMS didn't respond to requests for comment.

Thirty-five percent of women who visit a RadNet facility for mammograms pay for the additional AI review, Sorensen said.

Radiology practices don't handle payment for AI mammography all in the same way.

The practices affiliated with Boston-based Massachusetts General Hospital don't charge patients for the AI analysis, said Constance Lehman, a professor of radiology at Harvard Medical School who is co-director of the Breast Imaging Research Center at Mass General.

Asking patients to pay "isn't a model that will support equity," Lehman said, since only patients who can afford the extra charge will get the enhanced analysis. She said she believes many radiologists would never agree to post a sign listing a charge for AI analysis because it would be off-putting to low-income patients.

Sorensen said RadNet's goal is to stop charging patients once health plans realize the value of the screening and start paying for it.

Some large trials are underway in the United States, though much of the published research on AI and mammography to date has been done in Europe. There, the standard practice is for two radiologists to read a mammogram, whereas in the States only one radiologist typically evaluates a screening test.

Interim results from the highly regarded MASAI randomized controlled trial of 80,000 women in Sweden found that cancer detection rates were 20% higher in women whose mammograms were read by a radiologist using AI compared with women whose mammograms were read by two radiologists without any AI intervention, which is the standard of care there.

"The MASAI trial was great, but will that generalize to the U.S.? We can't say," Lehman said.

In addition, there is a need for "more diverse training and testing sets for AI algorithm development and refinement" across different races and ethnicities, said Christoph Lee, director of the Northwest Screening and Cancer Outcomes Research Enterprise at the University of Washington School of Medicine.  

The long shadow of an earlier and largely unsuccessful type of computer-assisted mammography hangs over the adoption of newer AI tools. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, "computer-assisted detection" software promised to improve breast cancer detection. Then the studies started coming in, and the results were often far from encouraging. Using CAD at best provided no benefit, and at worst reduced the accuracy of radiologists' interpretations, resulting in higher rates of recalls and biopsies.

"CAD was not that sophisticated," said Robert Smith, senior vice president of early cancer detection science at the American Cancer Society. Artificial intelligence tools today are a whole different ballgame, he said. "You can train the algorithm to pick up things, or it learns on its own."

Smith said he found it "troubling" that radiologists would charge for the AI analysis.

"There are too many women who can't afford any out-of-pocket cost" for a mammogram, Smith said. "If we're not going to increase the number of radiologists we use for mammograms, then these new AI tools are going to be very useful, and I don't think we can defend charging women extra for them."

Michelle Andrews: andrews.khn@gmail.com, @mandrews110

The private plans serve 30.8 million people despite concerns about aggressive sales tactics and misleading coverage claims.

This article was published on Friday, January 5, 2024 in KFF Health News.

By Sarah Jane Tribble

In 2016, Richard Timmins went to a free informational seminar to learn more about Medicare coverage.

"I listened to the insurance agent and, basically, he really promoted Medicare Advantage," Timmins said. The agent described less expensive and broader coverage offered by the plans, which are funded largely by the government but administered by private insurance companies.

For Timmins, who is now 76, it made economic sense then to sign up. And his decision was great, for a while.

Then, three years ago, he noticed a lesion on his right earlobe.

"I have a family history of melanoma. And so, I was kind of tuned in to that and thinking about that," Timmins said of the growth, which doctors later diagnosed as malignant melanoma. "It started to grow and started to become rather painful."

Timmins, though, discovered that his enrollment in a Premera Blue Cross Medicare Advantage plan would mean a limited network of doctors and the potential need for preapproval, or prior authorization, from the insurer before getting care. The experience, he said, made getting care more difficult, and now he wants to switch back to traditional, government-administered Medicare.

But he can't. And he's not alone.

"I have very little control over my actual medical care," he said, adding that he now advises friends not to sign up for the private plans. "I think that people are not understanding what Medicare Advantage is all about."

Enrollment in Medicare Advantage plans has grown substantially in the past few decades, enticing more than half of all eligible people, primarily those 65 or older, with low premium costs and perks like dental and vision insurance. And as the private plans' share of the Medicare patient pie has ballooned to 30.8 million people, so too have concerns about the insurers' aggressive sales tactics and misleading coverage claims.

Enrollees, like Timmins, who sign on when they are healthy can find themselves trapped as they grow older and sicker.

"It's one of those things that people might like them on the front end because of their low to zero premiums and if they are getting a couple of these extra benefits — the vision, dental, that kind of thing," said Christine Huberty, a lead benefit specialist supervising attorney for the Greater Wisconsin Agency on Aging Resources.

"But it's when they actually need to use it for these bigger issues," Huberty said, "that's when people realize, ‘Oh no, this isn't going to help me at all.'"

Medicare pays private insurers a fixed amount per Medicare Advantage enrollee and in many cases also pays out bonuses, which the insurers can use to provide supplemental benefits. Huberty said those extra benefits work as an incentive to "get people to join the plan" but that the plans then "restrict the access to so many services and coverage for the bigger stuff."

David Meyers, assistant professor of health services, policy, and practice at the Brown University School of Public Health, analyzed a decade of Medicare Advantage enrollment and found that about 50% of beneficiaries — rural and urban — left their contract by the end of five years. Most of those enrollees switched to another Medicare Advantage plan rather than traditional Medicare.

In the study, Meyers and his co-authors muse that switching plans could be a positive sign of a free marketplace but that it could also signal "unmeasured discontent" with Medicare Advantage.

"The problem is that once you get into Medicare Advantage, if you have a couple of chronic conditions and you want to leave Medicare Advantage, even if Medicare Advantage isn't meeting your needs, you might not have any ability to switch back to traditional Medicare," Meyers said.

Traditional Medicare can be too expensive for beneficiaries switching back from Medicare Advantage, he said. In traditional Medicare, enrollees pay a monthly premium and, after reaching a deductible, in most cases are expected to pay 20% of the cost of each nonhospital service or item they use. And there is no limit on how much an enrollee may have to pay as part of that 20% coinsurance if they end up using a lot of care, Meyers said.

To limit what they spend out-of-pocket, traditional Medicare enrollees typically sign up for supplemental insurance, such as employer coverage or a private Medigap policy. If they are low-income, Medicaid may provide that supplemental coverage.

But, Meyers said, there's a catch: While beneficiaries who enrolled first in traditional Medicare are guaranteed to qualify for a Medigap policy without pricing based on their medical history, Medigap insurers can deny coverage to beneficiaries transferring from Medicare Advantage plans or base their prices on medical underwriting.

Only four states — Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts, and New York — prohibit insurers from denying a Medigap policy if the enrollee has preexisting conditions such as diabetes or heart disease.

Paul Ginsburg is a former commissioner on the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission, also known as MedPAC. It's a legislative branch agency that advises Congress on the Medicare program. He said the inability of enrollees to easily switch between Medicare Advantage and traditional Medicare during open enrollment periods is "a real concern in our system; it shouldn't be that way."

The federal government offers specific enrollment periods every year for switching plans. During Medicare's open enrollment period, from Oct. 15 to Dec. 7, enrollees can switch out of their private plans to traditional, government-administered Medicare.

Medicare Advantage enrollees can also switch plans or transfer to traditional Medicare during another open enrollment period, from Jan. 1 to March 31.

"There are a lot of people that say, 'Hey, I'd love to come back, but I can't get Medigap anymore, or I'll have to just pay a lot more,'" said Ginsburg, who is now a professor of health policy at the University of Southern California.

Timmins is one of those people. The retired veterinarian lives in a rural community on Whidbey Island just north of Seattle. It's a rugged, idyllic landscape and a popular place for second homes, hiking, and the arts. But it's also a bit remote.

While it's typically harder to find doctors in rural areas, Timmins said he believes his Premera Blue Cross plan made it more challenging to get care for a variety of reasons, including the difficulty of finding and getting in to see specialists.

Nearly half of Medicare Advantage plan directories contained inaccurate information on what providers were available, according to the most recent federal review. Beginning in 2024, new or expanding Medicare Advantage plans must demonstrate compliance with federal network expectations or their applications could be denied.

Amanda Lansford, a Premera Blue Cross spokesperson, declined to comment on Timmins' case. She said the plan meets federal network adequacy requirements as well as travel time and distance standards "to ensure members are not experiencing undue burdens when seeking care."

Traditional Medicare allows beneficiaries to go to nearly any doctor or hospital in the U.S., and in most cases enrollees do not need approval to get services.

Timmins, who recently finished immunotherapy, said he doesn't think he would be approved for a Medigap policy, "because of my health issue." And if he were to get into one, Timmins said, it would likely be too expensive.

For now, Timmins said, he is staying with his Medicare Advantage plan.

"I'm getting older. More stuff is going to happen."

There is also a chance, Timmins said, that his cancer could resurface: "I'm very aware of my mortality."

Sarah Jane Tribble: sjtribble@kff.org, @SJTribble