The state could tackle rural health issues long into the future by investing its awards from the Rural Health Transformation Program, the director of Wyoming’s health department, Stefan Johansson, told state lawmakers.

But it’s unclear whether the maneuver will pass muster with the federal government.

If approved, Wyoming’s Rural Health Transformation Perpetuity fund could provide $28.5 million for the state to spend every year, according to materials presented to lawmakers.

Congressional Republicans created the Rural Health Transformation Program as a last-minute sweetener in their One Big Beautiful Bill Act last summer. The funding was intended to offset concerns about the outsize fallout anticipated in rural communities from the new law, which is expected to reduce Medicaid spending by nearly $1 trillion over the next decade.

Since 2010, 152 rural hospitals in the U.S. have shuttered completely or stopped offering inpatient services, according to the Sheps Center for Health Services Research at the University of North Carolina. The guidelines for the federal rural health program say states can use only 15% of their funding for direct payments to providers, including hospitals.

CMS officials announced first-year funding on Dec. 29 after scoring states’ applications. States had until Jan. 30 to submit revised budgets and other documents that align with their grant awards. CMS has until March 1 to review and approve the updated material.

Wyoming — the least populous state, with about 588,000 residents — will receive $205 million in the program’s first year, $5 million more than it asked for.

States must spend each year’s grants by the end of the following fiscal year, according to CMS rules. If they don’t, unused money will be redistributed to other states. The final deadline for all spending is Oct. 1, 2032, with leftover funds being returned to the federal government.

Given those rules, “how do you square that with squirreling money away in an account?” state Rep. Ken Pendergraft, a Republican, asked during a hearing on Wyoming’s plan.

Johansson said that depositing the federal grants into the perpetuity fund counts as expending them.

He said that CMS called in December to specifically ask questions about the fund and that he believes the agency has formally approved it. But “the devil’s always in the details,” he said, as the state works with CMS during the budget review period.

Emails obtained by KFF Health News through public records requests show CMS told officials in some states in early November that the grant money can’t “fund an endowment, capital fund, or other vehicle resembling an investment fund with the purpose of generating income.”

Wyoming officials wrote in the state’s application that the perpetuity fund won’t be making or keeping any profit.

“All program income from these investments will directly fund” rural health programs, they wrote.

CMS spokesperson Catherine Howden did not directly comment on whether Wyoming’s perpetuity idea is allowed. Instead, she said states must follow regulations related to the program and federal grants.

The Trump administration gave states a mandate to spend their money by fall 2032, but on projects that will continue to help rural patients even after the federal program ends.

The perpetuity fund would ensure just that, said Patrick Hardigan, dean of the College of Health Sciences at the University of Wyoming.

“Rather than spend out now,” Hardigan said, “we would have this available to help fund us over a longer time period.”

The state health department has already presented lawmakers with a bill to create the perpetuity fund and approve other parts of its rural health plan.

The legislation says Wyoming would put 80% of this year’s award — $164 million — and 69.5% of the funding it receives over the next four years into the fund. The state treasurer’s office would invest the fund in equities, including stocks. The health department plans to spend 4% of the fund’s money — in line with its expected return — each year, according to materials presented to lawmakers.

About 41% of the annual fund distribution would be spent on incentive payments for qualifying small hospitals, the bill says. The assistance could include one-time grants, medical debt relief for patients, and ongoing payments to offset fixed costs. This funding could amount to 2.5% to 10% of these hospitals’ annual operating expenses, according to an estimate in Wyoming’s application.

Bennett said it’s unclear whether all those types of payments are allowed under the federal rules.

“I think that states will try to do a lot of creative things like this, and CMS will approve or not on a case-by-case basis,” he said.

The bill says around 27% of annual spending would go to incentive payments to encourage coordination or consolidation among rural ambulance services. The funding could be ongoing or grants that help pay for ambulances, communications equipment, and regional dispatch services.

But these incentives would come with strings attached. Hospitals and ambulance services could receive payments only if they reduce “unprofitable, duplicative or nonessential” services and participate in “cost-containment arrangements,” such as regional collaborations and shared services.

About 22% of the annual spending would provide scholarships to help Wyomingites afford nursing, behavioral health, emergency medical services, and physician education. In exchange, recipients would have to work in the state for five years.

The remaining spending, around 11%, would be for scholarships to help doctors in training afford medical school, residency programs, and fellowships if they agree to work in an “underserved” Wyoming county for five years. The state health department would prioritize scholarships for people pursuing family medicine, obstetrics, or other high-demand specialties.

Johansson told Wyoming lawmakers that CMS could claw back money if a future state legislature decides to spend the fund in ways not allowed under the federal rural health program. He said this “check and balance” could last for decades.

“I can’t predict the future,” Johansson said, but “I think they have the authority to go look at the appropriate use of those funds through their audit parameters.”

Other states proposed funds in their applications, but Wyoming’s appears unique, according to a KFF Health News review of state applications.

For example, Kentucky wants to create a rural health endowment to continue its work once the federal program ends. But it would be backed by charitable donations, not seed money and investments from the federal funding.

Several states mention putting some of their federal award money into what they call rural health “catalyst funds.” But these funds, sometimes augmented with private contributions, would be invested in rural health technology.

Bennett said he’s never heard of a state investing any other federal health grant the way Wyoming wants to.

He said that in setting aside significant portions of its Rural Health Transformation Program awards, Wyoming would have much less money for rural health care in the short term in exchange for an ongoing revenue stream that could last decades.

“Everything has trade-offs,” Bennett said.

The Wyoming House Appropriations Committee unanimously approved the bill on Feb. 12, sending the legislation to the House floor.

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Durante una mesa redonda en la Casa Blanca en enero, en la que se anunciaron los primeros fondos del nuevo programa federal de salud rural de $50.000 millones, Mehmet Oz, administrador de los Centros de Servicios de Medicare y Medicaid (CMS, por sus siglas en inglés), calificó la idea como “genial”.

Ese mismo día, el senador Bernie Sanders, independiente de Vermont, dijo que no tenía nada de genial. Obstetras y otros profesionales de salud también expresaron su preocupación en redes sociales, y un activista político llegó a llamarlo “una historia de horror distópica”.

Las reacciones encontradas reflejan el choque entre el entusiasmo por las propuestas tecnológicas que presentaron los estados en sus solicitudes al Programa de Transformación de la Salud Rural y la realidad: simplemente no hay suficientes trabajadores de salud para atender a los pacientes en muchas comunidades rurales. Ahora que los estados comienzan a invertir los fondos asignados para el primer año, la tensión va en aumento, especialmente en Alabama.

Oz elogió la propuesta del estado de invertir en la relativamente nueva tecnología de ecografías robóticas.

“Muchos condados de Alabama no tienen ginecólogos obstetras”, dijo Oz en una reunión junto al presidente Donald Trump y otros miembros del gabinete. La falta de atención, explicó, fue lo que motivó la propuesta de usar robots para hacer ecografías a mujeres embarazadas.

Britta Cedergren, directora de la Red de Calidad Perinatal de Alabama (Alabama Perinatal Quality Collaborative), tiene claro lo que ocurre: “Nadie usa robots autónomos”.

Aunque considera que las ecografías robóticas son “una tecnología muy interesante”, explicó que todavía no se utilizan en el estado. En cambio, los profesionales de salud se apoyan en las consultas telefónicas para brindar atención obstétrica y, cuando hay equipos e internet disponibles, en la telemedicina.

El objetivo, señaló, es “apoyar a los lugares donde no hay atención médica”.

Cedergren participa en varios grupos estatales de salud materna y fetal, y trabaja diariamente con doctores, hospitales y personal de emergencia. Aunque reconoce la importancia de mejorar la tecnología, insiste en que no reemplaza la necesidad de una fuerza laboral bien capacitada ni de un sistema de atención y datos bien coordinado.

En 2024, el año más reciente con datos disponibles, la tasa de mortalidad infantil en Alabama fue de 7,1 muertes por cada 1.000 partos con recién nacidos vivos. A nivel nacional, la tasa fue de 5,5 por cada 1.000 nacimientos vivos, según datos preliminares de los Centros para el Control y la Prevención de Enfermedades (CDC, por sus siglas en inglés).

El cierre de unidades obstétricas en hospitales —que suele implicar la pérdida de proveedores capacitados para atender a mujeres embarazadas y a sus bebés— es una tendencia de larga data en zonas rurales de Estados Unidos. Pero en Alabama, las pérdidas han sido especialmente graves.

En 1980, 45 de los 55 condados rurales del estado tenían servicios obstétricos en hospitales. Para 2025, solo 15 ofrecen ese tipo de atención, según datos estatales. Y la tendencia no se detiene: cinco unidades obstétricas cerraron entre 2023 y 2024, incluyendo las de tres condados rurales: Monroe, Marengo y Clarke.

Katy Backes Kozhimannil, profesora en la Escuela de Salud Pública de la Universidad de Minnesota, descubrió que los cierres en zonas remotas están relacionados con un aumento en los nacimientos prematuros, una de las principales causas de mortalidad infantil.

“Seguirá habiendo embarazos y partos en nuestras comunidades”, dijo. “Necesitamos lugares donde proporcionar atención médica”.

Casi todos los estados incluyeron en sus solicitudes para el Programa de Transformación de la Salud Rural la falta de personal médico y la salud materna como prioridades. Pero solo Alabama propuso usar robots para cubrir esa necesidad. El fondo rural, creado por el Congreso como incentivo de último minuto dentro de la ley One Big Beautiful Bill Act del presidente Trump, alentó a los estados a ser creativos, innovadores y presentar soluciones tecnológicas.

A Alabama se le asignaron $203 millones para el primer año de este programa que durará cinco años. Entre casi una docena de iniciativas para mejorar la salud rural, la solicitud del estado incluye el fortalecimiento de su fuerza laboral rural y la mejora de la salud materna y fetal.

Mike Presley, vocero del Departamento de Asuntos Económicos y Comunitarios de Alabama —agencia encargada del plan—, dijo que no había nadie disponible para hablar sobre las ecografías telerobóticas.

LoRissia Autery, gineco-obstetra en una zona rural al noroeste de Birmingham, dijo que los robots no van a reducir la mortalidad materna e infantil. Hacer una ecografía tiene matices, señaló.

Muchas de sus pacientes tienen embarazos de alto riesgo, con condiciones como diabetes, presión arterial alta y hepatitis C. Le preocupa el tipo de atención que recibirán estas mujeres —que muchas veces conducen más de una hora para verla— si se reemplaza a un especialista capacitado por un robot.

“Se pierde el tipo de atención que necesitamos brindar a estas mujeres”, afirmó Autery, quien cofundó Walker Women’s Specialists. La clínica tiene tres doctores, atiende pacientes de cinco condados y necesita otro médico para poder responder a la demanda, agregó.

“Desde hace unos seis o siete años, hemos estado buscando un cuarto socio”, dijo. “Es difícil por muchas razones”.

En redes sociales, el senador Sanders respondió a Oz afirmando que la falta de proveedores de salud en zonas rurales de Estados Unidos es una “vergüenza internacional”.

“En el país más rico del mundo, necesitamos más doctores, enfermeros, dentistas y consejeros de salud mental, no más robots”, escribió Sanders en la plataforma X.

Hay al menos un país que ya usa robots junto con personal capacitado para reducir las muertes.

En La Loche, un pueblo remoto de Canadá, Julie Fontaine opera un robot de ecografía en una clínica con dos enfermeros practicantes y doctores rotativos. Fontaine dijo que a los pacientes les gusta el robot porque les ahorra tiempo y el costo de viajar seis o siete horas hasta un centro médico regional.

“Cuando la gente llega, dice: ‘Guau, qué increíble la tecnología hoy en día’”, comentó Fontaine, miembro de la Nación Métis del norte de Saskatchewan. “Es algo que nunca habían visto ni usado”.

Cuando trabaja con pacientes, Fontaine conecta el robot de ecografía con un técnico en imágenes a distancia, ubicado en Saskatoon. Ese profesional maneja el brazo robótico de la máquina. Luego, un radiólogo —que puede estar en cualquier parte— analiza las imágenes y envía el reporte al médico de familia en La Loche, explicó Ivar Mendez, neurocirujano y director del Centro de Salud Virtual de Canadá. En ese país, la mayoría de los bebés nacen con la atención de médicos de familia o parteras, no especialistas.

“Lo más importante es identificar un embarazo de alto riesgo con suficiente anticipación para poder intervenir”, dijo Mendez, quien aseguró que la ecografía robótica “es tan buena como la presencial”, aunque no puede usarse en casos que requieran una ecografía vaginal más invasiva. La tasa de mortalidad materna e infantil en el norte de Canadá, donde está ubicada La Loche, es de 20 a 25 veces más alta que en el resto del país, agregó.

“Una de las razones es que no hay disponibilidad de ecografías prenatales en esas comunidades, por lo que las embarazadas deben viajar a las ciudades y alojarse en hoteles”, explicó.

En una investigación de 2022, Mendez y su equipo de la Universidad de Saskatchewan analizaron 87 ecografías telerobóticas y encontraron que, en el 70% de los casos, no fue necesario viajar para recibir atención. Casi todos los pacientes dijeron que volverían a usar el robot.

Esta misma tecnología de ecografía robótica fue aprobada para su uso en Estados Unidos en 2017.

Nicolas Lefebvre, presidente y director ejecutivo de AdEchoTech —empresa que creó y fabrica el robot—, dijo que tienen “proyectos específicos para maternidad en Estados Unidos que están en preparación”. Según el consultor de desarrollo comercial de la empresa, el precio promedio de uno de estos robots es de entre $250.000 y $350.000.

El uso de ecografías robóticas es solo una parte de la iniciativa de salud materna y fetal propuesta por Alabama, según la solicitud. Reconociendo el cierre de unidades obstétricas, los funcionarios plantearon conectar a proveedores más pequeños y centros de salud rurales —que no tienen servicios de calidad en salud materna y fetal— con centros regionales que pueden brindar esos servicios de forma digital, incluyendo mediante ecografías telerobóticas.

Para su iniciativa de fuerza laboral, el estado propuso programas de capacitación para doctores, servicios de emergencia y enfermeros obstétricos.

El financiamiento estimado necesario para la iniciativa de salud materna y fetal es de $24 millones durante cinco años. Para la iniciativa de fuerza laboral, los funcionarios de Alabama propusieron $309,75 millones para el mismo período.

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An older couple in flannel pajamas sat together in the waiting room. A toddler waved as Patricia Hall walked past him, a stethoscope draped over her neck. The family physician waved and smiled back.

But in the privacy of a conference room, her mood shifted. She is often bogged down with paperwork and can’t get patients timely appointments with specialists. She also fears that a health care worker shortage affecting her clinic — and many others across the nation — will only get worse.

Hall’s clinic, the Celo Health Center, is one of seven locations that make up the Mountain Community Health Partnership, which was supposed to receive up to $10 million over the next decade through Making Care Primary, a federal program to improve primary care, especially in rural areas, by providing payments for physicians to address patient needs. Her organization planned to use the money to hire staff, build better connections with local specialists, and buy more vehicles to shuttle patients to appointments, according to its CEO, Tim Evans.

Then, in March, clinic administrators received an email during the Department of Government Efficiency’s whirlwind of federal cuts: The Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services would soon shutter Making Care Primary, a year into what was supposed to be a 10-year program. Nearly 700 practices in eight states enrolled in Making Care Primary. North Carolina had 23 clinics and centers in the program, the most of any state, followed by Washington, New Mexico, and New York. Doctors who had signed up for it said they were stunned.

“I’m angry, but more than that, I am so very sad,” Hall said. “It’s heartbreaking — to have an already inadequate health care system be made even more inadequate, to throw away opportunities to improve, even a little.”

Now, CMS’ Innovation Center, which created Making Care Primary, is set to launch a new 10-year program to boost primary care called the Long-term Enhanced ACO Design, known by its acronym LEAD. In that program, funding will be sent to health care organizations, often managed by companies, instead of directly to primary care doctors and clinics.

CMS wouldn’t say how much the programs cost. But it maintained that eliminating Making Care Primary reduced spending without sacrificing its mission to improve quality of care. Nixing Making Care Primary and three other programs at the agency — including another focused on primary care — would save taxpayers $750 million, CMS said at the time.

Making Care Primary “was not on track to meet its intended savings goal,” CMS spokesperson Alexx Pons said. Innovation Center models are meant to save money over time, in part by improving patients’ access to health care and helping them avoid costly hospital visits. Practices that signed up for Making Care Primary and want to join LEAD will have to apply for the program beginning in March.

Yet Making Care Primary’s elimination has created skepticism among doctors. The change exacerbated their fears about uncertain funding overseen by the Trump administration as covid-era Medicaid provisions expired, enhanced Affordable Care Act subsidies ended, and Congress passed more funding cuts in President Donald Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act.

William Hathaway, a physician and the CEO of the Mountain Area Health Education Center in western North Carolina, which serves 16 mostly rural counties, questions how his organization is supposed to plan for the future “when the future can just go away so quickly.”

A Chance To Change Primary Care

The U.S. is facing a primary care crisis. In 2023, more than 100 million people in the U.S. had no access to a primary care doctor in their area, the National Association of Community Health Centers reported. Some states, such as Colorado, have passed legislation to ensure more primary care funding at the state level.

The health care shortage where Hall works in western North Carolina is so severe, she said she often makes personal calls to doctors to schedule appointments.

Hall said one of her patients is an uninsured woman who has been waiting six months for a colonoscopy. The patient has severe anemia and possibly gastrointestinal bleeding. Hall has been trying to get the patient somewhere that offers free or discounted care.

The additional funding through Making Care Primary would have allowed the network of clinics to improve its communication systems with specialists. Coordination of this kind of care is one of the challenges Making Care Primary was supposed to address.

“I’m still not sure what we’re going to do for her,” Hall said.

Making Care Primary sought to create an efficient payment system for primary care clinics and help them better track patients, allowing doctors to be less burdened by administrative duties and focus more on care.

It provided bonuses to primary care doctors for maintaining their patients’ health, as well as flexible funding that could be used to improve patients’ quality of life in numerous ways. That included patients’ transportation to health care facilities, food vouchers, moving expenses, or help with utility bills.

Spokespeople for health departments in the states that signed up for Making Care Primary said some doctors have since lost trust in federal support.

“It can be difficult for providers, especially smaller community base practitioners, to pool resources to invest in non-clinical development,” said Cadence Acquaviva, a spokesperson for New York’s health agency. “An abrupt change can damage the confidence in future programs’ sustainability.”

An Uncertain Future

The CMS Innovation Center tests health care models to find those that improve care and lower costs for the health system and patients. The center created Making Care Primary after testing it as one of those models. It’s unclear whether the models have ultimately saved money; a 2023 Congressional Budget Office report criticized the Innovation Center for increasing spending by nearly double the amount the CBO projected the center would save in taxpayer money over 10 years.

Elizabeth Fowler, who directed the center under President Joe Biden, said Making Care Primary ended so early that it could not have produced any meaningful data on whether the patients it served became healthier.

She acknowledged that the program didn’t draw in as many clinics as she hoped and lagged in enrollment. But if it were her decision to make, “I would have said, ‘It’s not enough time,’” Fowler said. “It takes more than a year to get the numbers.”

Hathaway said his Mountain Area Health Education Center signed on to Making Care Primary believing it could change the profession: It promised to ensure practices received immediate, consistent federal money to enhance primary care. Other models made that funding more difficult to obtain.

It’s unclear whether LEAD will draw more enrollment than Making Care Primary, but Hathaway, who has years of experience with elements included in LEAD, is skeptical of the program.

“Anytime you put multiple layers of bureaucracy between us and the patients and the dollars, it just costs more,” he said.

Hall said doctors “see the suffering firsthand” but often feel helpless in a system that cuts people off from primary care. She has been frustrated with the nation’s health care system, she said, which she feels focuses on profits over patients.

“We should be rolling out the red carpet for everybody to come see their family doctor and keep them out of the emergency room,” Hall said. “That would keep costs lower for the whole system. I’m wearing rose-colored glasses now, but I really believe that.”

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During a January White House roundtable touting the first grants to states under a new $50 billion rural health fund, Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services Administrator Mehmet Oz called the idea “pretty cool.” Later that day, Sen. Bernie Sanders, the independent from Vermont, said it is decidedly not cool. And obstetricians and others chimed in on social media to express alarm, with one political activist calling it a “dystopian horror story.”

The disparate responses highlight how excitement over the tech-heavy ideas states pitched in their applications for the federal Rural Health Transformation Program conflicts with the reality that there simply aren’t enough health workers to serve patients in many rural communities. Now, as states prepare to spend their first-year awards, tension is mounting, and nowhere is that strain more visible than in Alabama.

Oz has lauded the state’s proposal to invest in the relatively new technology of robotic ultrasounds.

“Alabama has no OB-GYNs in many of their counties,” Oz said, sitting with President Donald Trump and Cabinet members. The dearth of care, he said, prompted the proposal to use robots for ultrasounds on pregnant women.

Britta Cedergren directs the Alabama Perinatal Quality Collaborative and has a firm grip on reality: “No one is using autonomous robots.”

While robotic ultrasounds are a “really neat technology,” she said, they are not yet being used in the state. Instead, clinicians providing obstetric care lean on phone consultations and — when equipment and internet are available — telehealth.

The goal, she said, is to “support places where there is no care.”

Cedergren is part of multiple state maternal and fetal health groups and works daily with doctors, hospitals, and first responders. While enhanced technology is vital for patient care, it’s not a replacement for a well-trained workforce and a coordinated care and data system, she said.

In 2024, the most recent year for which data is available, Alabama’s infant mortality rate was 7.1 deaths per 1,000 live births. The nationwide rate was 5.5 per 1,000 live births, according to provisional data released by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Hospital-based obstetric unit closures, which often lead to a loss of health care providers who can care for expectant mothers and their babies, are a long-standing, ongoing trend in rural America. But Alabama’s loss of services has been particularly profound.

In 1980, 45 of the state’s 55 rural counties had hospital-based obstetric services. By 2025, only 15 offered such care, according to state data. And the losses aren’t slowing. Five hospital obstetric units closed in 2023 and 2024, including in three rural counties: Monroe, Marengo, and Clarke.

Katy Backes Kozhimannil, a professor at the University of Minnesota School of Public Health, found that closures in remote areas lead to an increase in preterm births, a leading cause of infant mortality.

“People will be pregnant and give birth in communities all over the place,” she said. “You have to be able to get to a place where you can be cared for.”

Nearly all 50 states’ applications for the Rural Health Transformation Program declared workforce shortages and maternal health needs as priorities, but only Alabama proposed using robots to fill the gap. The rural fund, which Congress created as a last-minute sweetener in Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act last summer, encouraged states to be creative, be innovative, and pitch tech solutions.

Alabama was awarded $203 million for the first of the program’s five years. Among nearly a dozen rural health initiatives, the state’s application included bolstering its rural workforce as well as improving maternal and fetal health.

Mike Presley, a spokesperson for the Alabama Department of Economic and Community Affairs, which is overseeing the plan, said no one was available for an interview about telerobotic ultrasounds.

LoRissia Autery, an obstetrics and gynecology specialist in rural Alabama northwest of Birmingham, said the robots won’t decrease maternal and infant mortality. There are nuances, she said, to doing ultrasounds.

Many of her patients have high-risk pregnancies with diabetes, high blood pressure, and hepatitis C, she said. She said she worries about the kind of care that will be given to her patients, many of whom drive an hour or more to get to her, if robots are used instead of a trained specialist.

“It takes away just the care that we need to have for women,” said Autery, who co-founded Walker Women’s Specialists. The clinic includes three doctors, draws patients from five counties, and could use an additional physician to meet the demand, Autery said.

“Probably for the past six or seven years, we’ve been putting out feelers trying to find a fourth partner,” Autery said. “It’s difficult for a variety of reasons.”

In his social media remarks to Oz, Vermont’s Sanders called the lack of rural health care providers in the U.S. an “international embarrassment.”

“In the richest country on earth, we need more doctors, nurses, dentists and mental health counselors, not more robots,” Sanders wrote on the social platform X.

At least one country is using robots paired with trained workers to decrease deaths.

In the remote Canadian village of La Loche, Julie Fontaine operates an ultrasound robot at a clinic with two on-site nurse practitioners and rotating doctors. She said patients like the robot because it saves them the time and expense of traveling to a bigger regional health care facility six to seven hours away.

“When people come in, they’re like, ‘Wow, like, technology these days,’” said Fontaine, a member of the Métis people in northern Saskatchewan. “It’s something they’ve never seen before or even used.”

When working with patients, Fontaine connects the robotic ultrasound machine to a tele-sonographer at a control station in Saskatoon. The sonographer then remotely operates a robotic arm on the machine. A radiologist, who can be anywhere, reads the scan’s report and sends it back to the family doctor in La Loche, said Ivar Mendez, a neurosurgeon and the director of Canada’s Virtual Health Hub. Most babies in Canada, he said, are delivered by family doctors or midwives, not specialists.

“The most important thing is the identification of a high-risk pregnancy early enough so you can intervene,” said Mendez, who added that the robotic ultrasound is “as good as the in-person ultrasound” but can’t be used when a patient needs a more invasive vaginal ultrasound. The mortality rate for mothers and newborns in the north, site of the La Loche clinic, is 20 to 25 times greater than in the rest of the nation, he said.

“One of the reasons is that there’s no availability of prenatal ultrasonography in those communities, so pregnant women have to travel to cities and they’re put up at hotels,” he said.

In a 2022 paper, Mendez and his team at the University of Saskatchewan examined 87 telerobotic ultrasounds and found that 70% of the time, the robotic ultrasound made travel for care unnecessary. Nearly all the patients said they would use the robot again.

The same robotic ultrasound technology was approved in 2017 for use in the U.S.

Nicolas Lefebvre, chairman and chief executive of the robot’s creator and manufacturer, AdEchoTech, said the company has “U.S. maternity-specific projects that are currently under preparation.” The average price of a robot will be $250,000 to $350,000, according to AdEchoTech’s U.S.-based business development consultant.

Using robotic ultrasounds is one part of Alabama’s proposed maternal and fetal health initiative, according to the state’s application. Acknowledging loss of hospital obstetric units, officials said they planned to connect smaller rural providers and health care facilities that lack “high-quality maternal and fetal health services” to regional care hubs that can provide the services digitally, including through telerobotic ultrasound.

For their workforce initiative, state officials proposed training programs for doctors, emergency services, and nurse-midwives.

The estimated required funding for the maternal and fetal health initiative is $24 million over five years. Alabama officials proposed $309.75 million for their workforce initiative over five years.

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To ensure it tastes good and is safe to drink, a small team of scientists and technicians is constantly testing the water for pH, odors, heavy metals, and microbes.

But unlike many smaller municipal utilities in the U.S., Louisville Water regularly checks for PFAS — per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances.

That’s a class of chemicals used by manufacturers for decades to make things like nonstick pans, cosmetics, raincoats, food wrappers, and firefighting foam.

Research studies have linked PFAS to health risks like cancer, reduced immune system functioning, high cholesterol, and developmental delays in children.

They’re also known as “forever chemicals” because their strong chemical structures make them degrade incredibly slowly in the environment.

Today, they litter soil and water sources around the world and can be found in the blood of almost everyone in the U.S.

One type of PFAS that the Louisville water technicians are tracking is HFPO-DA, also known by a trade name, GenX.

Just over a year ago, workers noticed an unexpected increase in the level of GenX detected in a sample of the raw, untreated water drawn from the Ohio River for filtering and processing.

The GenX levels Louisville found in December 2024 were 15 times the reading from the previous month: 52 parts per trillion versus 3.4 ppt.

“A part per trillion is like one second in 32,800 years. Put your head around that, right?” said Peter Goodmann, the city utility’s director of water quality and research.

He offered another way to think of it: One part per trillion would be a single drop of water in 20 Olympic swimming pools.

Goodmann told KFF Health News and NPR he wasn’t worried about local customers’ safety, because the increased levels were still pretty low.

Risks posed by low PFAS concentrations are measured over a lifetime of exposure, he said. And recent data from Louisville shows the PFAS levels in city drinking water fell back within planned federal safety limits.

Plus, water is just one way people can be exposed to PFAS, Goodmann added. “Because you get a lot more of these pollutants from packaging, from prefixed food, cake mixes, weird things, you know, popcorn boxes,” he said.

Louisville Water’s data showed that the elevated levels of GenX in the water sample drawn in December 2024 fell once the water underwent typical treatment and filtering.

Federal Regulation Fight

The federal government has long regulated the levels of certain contaminants in drinking water, such as arsenic, E. coli, and lead.

But the Environmental Protection Agency didn’t issue regulations regarding PFAS until 2024, during the final year of the Biden administration. The new limits applied to six types of PFAS in drinking water. Starting in 2029, utilities that exceeded the limits would have been required to treat the water to reduce the contamination.

But after Donald Trump’s reelection, new EPA administrator Lee Zeldin announced the agency will keep the rules for only two types of PFAS, called PFOA and PFOS, but drop the restrictions on the other four types, including GenX.

In addition, the EPA announced it will give water utilities two additional years, until 2031, to comply with the remaining rules, attributing the change in part to the financial burden on rural water plants.

Many utilities, large and small, may need to invest in infrastructure to remove PFAS.

A federal study estimated about 45% of U.S. tap water contains at least one type of PFAS.

When it announced the final PFAS limits, the Biden administration anticipated that up to 10% of the estimated 66,000 U.S. public drinking water systems affected by these regulations might have PFAS levels high enough to require them to take action to reduce the contamination.

Finding the Source

Goodmann’s team traced the increased levels of PFAS up the Ohio River, past Cincinnati, and through Appalachian forests, all the way to a West Virginia factory about 400 miles upstream.

There, the Chemours Co. uses GenX to make fluoropolymers, a plastic critical to the semiconductors that power phones.

Its Washington Works facility near Parkersburg, West Virginia, has a history of PFAS pollution.

A lawyer, Robert Bilott, fought the plant’s previous owner, DuPont, in court, ultimately revealing the company knew that a type of PFAS it was using, PFOA, was toxic but didn’t disclose that information.

DuPont went on to settle various lawsuits that claimed it contaminated local environments with forever chemicals. The company has repeatedly denied wrongdoing.

Chemours was spun off from DuPont in 2015.

The Louisville Water team’s calculations eventually showed that the December 2024 spike in GenX levels corresponded to publicly available data from Chemours about its chemical discharges into the Ohio River.

In Chemours’ responses to a lawsuit filed by a West Virginia environmental group, the company denied its discharges were connected to Louisville’s GenX spike. (Louisville is not a party in the lawsuit.)

The company also contended that sampling data showed levels of GenX in the river and in downstream utilities’ treated drinking water are “indisputably safe.”

PFAS Removal Will Challenge Water Utilities

Under current federal environmental regulations, Chemours can release some chemicals into the Ohio River. But it has exceeded the legal limits repeatedly over several years, according to court filings and the EPA.

That’s why the West Virginia Rivers Coalition filed its lawsuit in 2024.

The EPA took enforcement action in 2023, when it said it found Chemours’ West Virginia factory had repeatedly exceeded permit limits for two types of forever chemicals, GenX and PFOA.

But the West Virginia Rivers Coalition said in a court filing that the EPA’s consent order for Chemours “is not being diligently prosecuted.”

Chemours declined to answer questions from KFF Health News and NPR, citing ongoing litigation, except to point out that Louisville’s “finished drinking water is safe for consumption,” with PFAS levels below the EPA’s regulatory limits, as stated on Louisville Water’s website and in the annual water quality report from Cincinnati, which also draws from the Ohio River.

As research into the health effects of PFAS exposure continues, environmental advocates say it’s imperative for companies to meet the limitations set by government permits.

“Environmental regulatory permitting is a license to pollute,” said Nick Hart, the water policy director for the Kentucky Waterways Alliance.

“You’re permitting someone to put something into the atmosphere, into water, into soil that would not be there otherwise. And so when we talk about the safe levels,” he said, “stop using the word ‘safe,’ right? This is the maximum allowable limit.”

It is possible to remove PFAS from drinking water. For example, Louisville’s utility is spending about $23 million to redesign its powdered activated carbon system, which is one method used to take out PFAS.

But PFAS removal can get expensive, especially for small, rural towns, Hart said. Preventing contaminants such as PFAS from getting into a community’s drinking water supply is easier and less costly compared with removing it on the back end, he added.

In Chemours’ responses to the lawsuit, the company acknowledged that its violating its current permit but noted it’s working with government regulators on an eventual fix.

The federal judge in the case, Joseph Goodwin, decided that wasn’t fast enough.

In August, he ordered Chemours to immediately stop overpolluting. The company quickly filed an appeal.

The West Virginia Rivers Coalition declined to speak with KFF Health News and NPR but did point to its August news release on the judge’s ruling.

“This is a victory for public health and the Ohio River,” Autumn Crowe, the organization’s deputy director, said in the statement. “The Court recognized what communities have known for years: Chemours has been polluting our water and ignoring its legal obligations.”

In a court filing for the case, Goodmann said that elevated levels of GenX could make it more challenging for water utilities such as Louisville’s to comply with federal rules for safe drinking water.

In regard to Chemours specifically, Goodmann told KFF Health News and NPR that when government regulators issue the company’s next permit, he wants them to take into account the water treatment plants downstream.

“So what we do is manage risk, and we start that at the river,” he said. “It sounds weird, but source water protection — keeping the stuff out of the river — is a big deal.”

This article is from a partnership that includes Louisville Public Media, NPR, and KFF Health News.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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After his mom finally saw a specialist in Glasgow, about an hour away, she was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer, Bighorn said.

Now, 16 years after his mother’s death, Bighorn has access to regular screenings for cancer and other specialty care that she didn’t have, through a health insurance program the Fort Peck Tribes created in 2016. The program, which covers most of the costs for the roughly 1,000 tribal citizens enrolled, is among a growing number of tribally sponsored health insurance programs.

Such programs vary by tribe, but they essentially screen and enroll people living within tribal boundaries in Affordable Care Act marketplace plans. They allow participating Native Americans flexibility to go to outside doctors and clinics when care through the Indian Health Service is unavailable.

“I’d be in a bind otherwise,” said Bighorn, a 65-year-old tribal game warden and member of the Dakota community.

But the Fort Peck Tribes now limit who has access to that coverage. Other tribal organizations that offer Native Americans similar coverage are struggling with rising costs, too.

The financial crunch began when congressional lawmakers allowed enhanced subsidies under the Affordable Care Act to expire on Dec. 31. Those tax credits, created under the Biden administration during the covid-19 pandemic, expanded subsidized health coverage for millions of people. By late 2025, ACA plans saw about 24 million enrollees, more than twice the number of pre-pandemic annual sign-ups. The cost of coverage shot up for most of those people as the expanded subsidies expired, and enrollment so far has dropped by more than 1 million people, according to federal health officials.

The subsidies had also boosted tribal health insurance programs, like the one Bighorn is enrolled in. The programs pay the price of each person’s share of premiums after subsidies, and the coverage lowers patients’ treatment costs. Now that premium prices have ballooned, so have tribes’ costs.

Rae Jean Belgarde, who directs Fort Peck Tribes’ program, said the higher costs leave the tribes with one option at this point: “Start limiting who gets help.”

The tribes are helping people shift to other insurance options and, in some cases, find state programs to cover their premiums. Tribal leaders also sent a letter to Montana’s all-Republican congressional delegation asking them to support extending the subsidies.

“Our program is saving lives,” the letter read. Belgarde said she didn’t know whether the lawmakers responded.

Scrambling for Solutions

U.S. House members approved a temporary extension of the enhanced subsidies in January. But that measure stalled in the Senate. Lawmakers are scrambling for an alternative after President Donald Trump threatened to veto an extension if a bill reaches his desk. On Jan. 15, the president released an outline of a health care proposal that includes creating savings accounts for people to pay their health costs — an idea Senate Republicans previously floated as an alternative to the subsidies.

A.C. Locklear, CEO of the National Indian Health Board, a nonprofit that works to improve health in Native communities, said tribes are “looking at ways to cut back just as much as everyone else.”

Native Americans as a group continue to face disproportionately high rates of chronic diseases. Their median age at death is 14 years younger than that of white Americans.

“Reducing access to even just general primary care has a significant impact on those disparities,” Locklear said.

Tribal leaders have said letting the subsidies expire further undermines the federal government’s duty to ensure adequate care for Native Americans.

In exchange for taking tribal land through colonization, the U.S. government made long-standing promises to provide for the health and well-being of tribes. Native Americans are guaranteed free health care at clinics and hospitals operated or funded by the Indian Health Service. But that agency’s chronic underfunding has created massive blackouts in care. It sometimes pays for patients’ outside care through its Purchased/Referred Care program, but that’s limited too. Due to funding shortfalls, the agency prioritizes which treatments it will pay for.

To help fill the coverage gaps, some tribal nations have built their own health insurance programs. When tribes pay health premiums, clinics and hospitals in their areas can bill for services that might otherwise go unpaid. Some tribes have leveraged that money to expand services.

“I don’t see tribes getting rid of these programs,” Locklear said. “But it will drastically shift how much tribes can really put back in their community.”

For example, Tuba City Regional Health Care Corp., in northern Arizona within the Navajo Nation, is unique in providing comprehensive cancer treatment on a reservation, Locklear said. The corporation, he said, estimates its costs to cover patients this year are increasing by roughly 170% to nearly $38,000 per month without the enhanced subsidies.

One of the newer programs is on the Blackfeet reservation in northwestern Montana, where basic health services can be hard to find. Medical visits are often offered on a first-come, first-served basis, and services vanish when staff positions go unfilled, said Lyle Rutherford, a Blackfeet Nation council member.

“Some of it is just getting a regular eye appointment, or a primary care appointment,” Rutherford said.

The tribe has been slowly building its health insurance program since launching it in 2024. Rutherford said the enhanced subsidies made that possible. Fewer than 400 people are enrolled out of an estimated 3,000 who qualify. In January, the tribe paused the employer-sponsored coverage portion of its insurance program, which at the time included 52 people.

He said tribal leaders are seeking extra funding to keep the program afloat, and he hopes Congress finds a solution.

Lives on the Line

The impact goes beyond tribes’ insurance programs. The Urban Institute, a Washington, D.C.-based economic and social policy research nonprofit, estimates that 125,000 Native Americans will become uninsured in 2026 due to the higher costs.

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It’s all part of a drama that roiled the ACA’s 2026 open enrollment period. Congressional debate over whether to extend more generous subsidies made available under the Biden administration led to the longest-ever government shutdown and focused public attention on rising health care costs and the affordability issue.

The enhanced subsidies, which expanded eligibility both by lowering the percentage of household income people had to pay toward their care and removing an income cap, expired at the end of last year. As a result, just about everyone buying ACA coverage saw their costs increase. For some, what they paid toward premiums doubled or more, even though less generous subsidies remain in place.

Many experts expected ACA enrollment, which hit a record 24 million in 2025, to fall this time around.

“If you raise the price of something a whole lot, economics tell us that a lot of people will buy less of it or not buy at all,” said Katherine Hempstead, a senior policy officer with the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation.

Here are things to watch now:

Initial Numbers Aren’t Final

The Congressional Budget Office told lawmakers in December 2024 that not extending the enhanced subsidies would cause 2.2 million people to lose insurance in 2026, with further increases in following years. Analysts with the Wakely Consulting Group also estimated that millions would opt out of insurance for this year.

Data released Jan. 28 by federal officials showed a year-over-year drop of about 1.2 million enrollments across the federal healthcare.gov marketplace and those run by states. Overall, there were 23 million enrollees, including 3.4 million new to ACA coverage.

At about the same time last year, there were 24.2 million sign-ups, with 3.9 million new to the marketplaces.

But there’s more to it than those initial numbers.

For one thing, both years’ data was pegged to Jan. 15 for the federal marketplace, which closed its open enrollment period that day. But, the data for the states that run their own marketplaces included sign-ups in most cases only through Jan. 10 or 11, even though some held open enrollment until the end of the month. Thus, the numbers don’t reflect what might have happened in those last days. Was there a surge in state sign-ups? Or, conversely, did the marketplaces see more enrollees cancel their coverage?

Additionally, those initial numbers are a mix of newly minted ACA enrollees and existing customers, many of whom were auto-reenrolled for 2026 — which raises other issues.

For existing, reenrolled policyholders, the real figures won’t be known for weeks or months, when it becomes clear how many actually pay their premiums. Some consumers may not have focused on their reenrollment costs or may have hoped Congress would extend the subsidies.

That’s an important factor to keep in mind because the CBO and Wakely estimates of millions losing insurance were based on projections for full-year coverage, not initial sign-ups.

In the coming weeks, “consumers may find they really can’t afford the premiums and cancel their plans, while carriers may also cancel coverage for nonpayment,” said Pat Kelly, executive director of Your Health Idaho, a state-based ACA marketplace, during a Jan. 22 call with reporters.

Sharp Differences in State Enrollment Patterns

Changes are also afoot in the 19 other states (and the District of Columbia) that run their own exchanges, some of which have issued more detailed data about enrollment than the federal marketplace.

Most states saw lower enrollment for 2026 than the prior year, with the biggest drop in North Carolina, where sign-ups fell by nearly 22%, federal data shows.

In a few states — including New Mexico, Texas, California, and Maryland, as well as the District of Columbia — the number of people selecting ACA plans increased.

The jump was largest in New Mexico, with its initial number of people selecting plans up by nearly 14%. Increases were in the single digits in the other states and Washington, D.C.

New Mexico — uniquely — used its own tax dollars to fully offset the loss of the more generous federal tax subsidies for all consumers. A few other states, including California, Colorado, Maryland, and Washington, used state money to help some enrollees.

The State Marketplace Network, a collective of 22 state marketplaces supported by the National Academy for State Health Policy, said initial enrollment figures raise concern. Compared with the same time last year, outright plan cancellations are up 83% in Colorado, disenrollments are four times what they were in Idaho, and Virginia has seen cancellations double.

New enrollments are down 32% in California from the same period last year, according to data from the state. In Pennsylvania, people ages 55 to 64, the group with the highest premiums, and young people 26 to 34 are terminating their coverage in higher numbers than other age groups, state data shows.

“We have drastically higher rates of people dropping their coverage,” said Devon Trolley, executive director of the Pennsylvania Health Insurance Exchange Authority. “We had 70,000 drop in the last two months, from early retirees to small-business owners to farmers not knowing how to make ends meet.”

On Feb. 9, Pennsylvania released final numbers, showing enrollment dropped by about 2% from last year, although that figure masks some of the effects. The state says nearly 18% of enrollees dropped coverage altogether, with older and rural residents being the most likely to fall out.

Some Republicans credited Trump-administration-backed anti-fraud measures, which included a range of regulatory and legislative changes, for tightening the system. Although some of those actions were paused by a federal court and have not taken effect, those ACA critics, some of whom have produced controversial estimates that millions may have been improperly enrolled, say that’s behind the decline. They have previously blamed the more generous subsidies for unauthorized enrollments or ACA plan-switching by commission-seeking brokers.

States that run their own ACA marketplaces, however, reported little or no such unauthorized switching. Relative to the federal marketplace, the state-based ACA platforms employ additional safeguards to prevent brokers from accessing consumers’ coverage without authorization.

Among consumers not returning to the marketplace, the main reason is cost, said Mila Kofman, executive director of the DC Health Benefit Exchange Authority, which runs the district’s ACA marketplace.

“When we looked at who these folks are, half are small-business owners,” Kofman said. “They are not folks committing fraud.”

Lower Premiums, Higher Deductibles

Rather than sticking with automatic reenrollment, existing customers in many states shifted sharply into lower-priced “bronze” plans that come with higher deductibles than silver, gold, and platinum plans.

California saw 73% of renewing members who switched plans move to a bronze plan, up from 27% at the same time last year, the State Marketplace Network reported. In Maine, bronze enrollment now represents almost 60% of all plans purchased.

People are “looking at what works in their monthly budget, looking for that lower premium,” said Stacey Pogue, a senior research fellow at the Center on Health Insurance Reforms at Georgetown University. “Some might be crossing their fingers that they won’t need to meet their deductible.”

On average, bronze plans have an annual deductible of $7,500. All ACA plans are required to cover certain preventive services — such as some vaccinations, cancer screenings, and other tests — without a copayment or deductible, but most everything else is covered only after an annual deductible is met.

High deductibles can lead some patients to avoid seeking medical care, Hempstead said.

“People are terrified to use their care,” she said. “They may delay something until it’s more serious.”

She added that medical providers, including hospitals and doctors, are bracing for an increase in the number of insured patients who can’t afford to pay their deductibles.

“Everyone is anticipating that hospitals will have to give out more charity care, which will hurt their bottom lines and might lead them to have to lay off people or close or reduce services,” she said.

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Ballad Health announced in January that it would spend about $44 million to rebuild the 10-bed Unicoi County Hospital in a field behind a Walmart in Unicoi, Tennessee, about 7 miles from the shuttered hospital that was the site of catastrophic flooding and a daring helicopter rescue on Sept. 27, 2024.

But the new location also faces significant flood risk, according to a KFF Health News review of information from Fathom and First Street, two climate data companies whose flood modeling is considered more sophisticated than outdated flood maps published by the Federal Emergency Management Agency. Both Fathom and First Street estimate that a 100-year flood — a weather event more common and less intense than Helene — could cover much of the hospital site with more than 2 feet of water.

“The proposed site is so obviously a flood plain geomorphologically,” said Oliver Wing, chief scientific officer at Fathom. “You don’t need a model to see that.”

Wing said the new hospital site was actually more likely to flood than the old site and “very risky” for development due to a nearby creek and potential storm runoff from mountains to the west. But the flooding would be less powerful than at the old site, Wing said, and its impact could be lessened by elevating the hospital or building earthen embankments.

Ballad Health confirmed the new hospital location but did not respond to questions about flood risk or defenses planned for the site. In a brief written statement, spokesperson Molly Luton said Ballad was working with geotechnical professionals, Zurich Insurance Group, and a high-profile architecture firm in Nashville, Earl Swensson Associates, to “plan and build a safe hospital for the Unicoi County community.” Luton said Ballad is also working with FEMA, which is providing about $7.4 million for the rebuild.

FEMA has served as the nation’s de facto authority for estimating flood risk for half a century, and its flood maps generally determine which buildings must be designed to withstand a flood. But those maps are often incomplete and do not account for the impacts of climate change. FEMA’s flood maps of Unicoi, last updated in 2008, do not identify the new hospital site as a flood hazard zone.

Nationwide, FEMA maps don’t capture much of the flood risk identified by Fathom and First Street, which use sophisticated computer models and detailed terrain data to create flood simulations that are relied on by major developers, insurance companies, and government agencies. First Street publishes much of its modeling online, while Fathom shared data with KFF Health News through a data-use agreement.

Chad Berginnis, executive director of the Association of State Floodplain Managers, said that while the hilly terrain of northeastern Tennessee may limit Ballad’s options to rebuild, it should not ignore the data from Fathom and First Street or rely purely on FEMA’s maps, which suggest the hospital could be built with minimal flood protections.

If Ballad builds behind the Walmart, Berginnis said, it should follow the latest standards from the American Society of Civil Engineers, which recommend elevating hospitals enough to withstand a 1,000-year flood — like the one caused by Helene.

According to those standards and Google Earth elevation data, that could require earthwork to raise the ground of the Unicoi site by at least 8 feet and as much as 18 feet before construction.

“It’s going to require some elevation, and there is going to be some cost,” Berginnis said. “But, my God, you just lost your dang hospital.”

The destruction of Unicoi County Hospital in 2024 prompted a KFF Health News investigation into hospital flood risk, which used Fathom data to identify more than 170 hospitals across the nation that face the greatest risk of significant or dangerous flooding. Of those hospitals, at least 39 faced circumstances similar to Unicoi’s: Nearby rivers or creeks were predicted to swell beyond their banks and engulf the facility.

Ballad Health, which owns Unicoi and 19 other hospitals in Tennessee and Virginia, is the nation’s largest state-sanctioned hospital monopoly and the only option for hospital care for most residents in a 29-county region of Appalachia.

In a news release announcing the Unicoi reconstruction, Ballad said it was finalizing a land purchase for the new hospital site and expected construction to begin in the spring and last two years. Ballad Health Chief Operating Officer Eric Deaton said the reconstruction announcement was “a long-awaited step toward healing.”

“Rebuilding Unicoi County Hospital is about more than bricks and mortar,” Deaton said in the release. “It’s about keeping care close to home for people who have been through so much.”

Tennessee state Rep. Renea Jones, a Republican whose district includes both the old and new Unicoi hospital sites, praised the reconstruction plan in Ballad’s news release. The release did not mention that Ballad would buy about 15 acres of land for the new hospital from Jones’ family, which was first reported by local television station WJHL and later confirmed by Tennessee public records.

Jones did not agree to be interviewed about the sale of the property or its flood risk.

The destroyed Unicoi County Hospital, which cost $30 million, was built along a bend of the Nolichucky River even though FEMA had labeled that area a flood zone for decades. Mountain States Health Alliance began construction in 2017, then later became Ballad Health, which opened the hospital in 2018.

Alan Levine, who was the CEO of Mountain States and now leads Ballad, told KFF Health News in a 2024 interview that Mountain States was aware of the flood risk when Unicoi was built but believed levees could protect the facility.

“I feel like everything we did when we built it was done the right way,” Levine said.

Helene proved too much to handle. As the hurricane carved a deadly path across Southern states and into Appalachia, heavy rainfall caused the Nolichucky to overspill its banks and engulf the hospital in as much as 12 feet of water.

Floodwater pushed inside the hospital and cut the power, forcing patients and staff to evacuate to the roof in hopes of rescue. Ultimately, helicopters plucked 70 people from the roof and the rushing water, narrowly avoiding fatalities.

Angel Mitchell, a Unicoi survivor who was airlifted to safety with her ailing mother, said she was appalled that the hospital would be rebuilt in an area vulnerable to another flood.

But the worst part, Mitchell said, was that locals would have little choice but to tolerate the risk because of Ballad’s monopoly.

“It’s ridiculous,” Mitchell said. “We want to go somewhere to heal, not somewhere to worry.”

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The retiree, 70, was diagnosed with glaucoma in her right eye in 2019. She had a laser procedure to treat it in 2022, and she uses medicated drops in both eyes to prevent more damage. She is supposed to be checked regularly, she said.

During the May appointment, Tuszynski’s optometrist examined her eyes and reassured her that the glaucoma had not worsened.

Tuszynski, who lives in central Wisconsin, had looked up beforehand whether the clinic in nearby Madison participated in her insurance plan. The insurer’s website listed the optometrist’s name with a green check mark and the words “in-network.” She assumed that meant her policy would cover the appointment.

Then the bill came.

The Medical Procedure

An optometrist tested Tuszynski’s vision and took pictures of her optic nerves.

The Final Bill

$340, which included $120 for vision testing and $100 for optic nerve imaging.

The Billing Problem: Vision Coverage vs. Medical Coverage

Tuszynski’s UnitedHealthcare Medicare Advantage plan declined to pay for her eye appointment. “The member has no out of network benefits,” the company’s denial letter said.

Tuszynski felt like she was seeing double. How could an eye doctor be in-network and out-of-network at the same time? She said she sent the insurer a screenshot of its own webpage showing the clinic listed as in-network.

She said that after she complained, UnitedHealthcare representatives explained that the eye clinic was in-network under her vision plan, so her policy would cover the clinic’s services related to glasses or contact lenses. But they said the clinic was not in-network for her medical insurance plan, and glaucoma treatment is considered a medical issue.

Tuszynski was baffled that care for a patient’s eyes would not be covered by vision insurance. She said she didn’t realize that insurers can have contracts with eye clinics to provide some services but not others.

UnitedHealthcare spokesperson Meg Sergel said such arrangements are common, including with non-Medicare insurance provided by employers or purchased by individuals. “I looked up my eye doctor, and it’s the same thing,” she said in an interview with KFF Health News.

Sergel said she understood how a customer could mistakenly think vision insurance would cover all care for the eyes. She said UnitedHealthcare recommends that before undergoing treatment, patients ask care providers whether they are in-network for specific services.

Otherwise, she said, to know whether a test or treatment is covered by vision insurance, “you’d have to read the nitty-gritty” of a policy.

Leaders at Steinhauer Family Eye Clinic, where Tuszynski saw the optometrist, declined to comment.

Casey Schwarz, senior counsel for education and federal policy at the nonprofit Medicare Rights Center, said such complications frequently come up when Medicare Advantage members try to use their insurance at eye clinics or dental offices.

The federal government pays insurers to run Medicare Advantage plans for people who choose them instead of traditional Medicare. More than half of Medicare beneficiaries sign up for the private plans. Many offer routine vision and dental coverage that isn’t included with traditional Medicare.

“We hear from people who choose these plans because of those supplemental benefits, but there is not a lot of transparency around them,” Schwarz said.

The Resolution

After receiving the rejection letter, Tuszynski repeatedly contacted UnitedHealthcare to question the decision and filed an appeal with the company. Then, she said, she called a Medicare hotline to complain to federal officials. She also wrote to KFF Health News, which asked the insurer about the case.

UnitedHealthcare eventually agreed to cover the bill as if the service had been in-network. “In good faith, we made an exception,” Sergel said. However, Tuszynski was warned that if she received medical care from the clinic again, it would not be covered, because the clinic remains out-of-network for such services, Sergel said. “It doesn’t sound like that pleased her.”

Tuszynski confirmed that she is not pleased.

She said she lost sleep over the dispute and felt that it shouldn’t have taken so much effort to obtain a fair outcome. “It’s just been a horrible, difficult whirlwind,” she said.

The Takeaway

Schwarz said regulators should require insurance companies to clearly explain to customers and care providers how different procedures and services will be covered under vision, dental, and health plans. “They’re tricky,” she said.

In an ideal world, Schwarz said, Medicare would consider things like dental cleanings, eye checkups, and hearing aids as basic health care that would be covered in the same way as other medical care. But until that happens, she said, patients with any doubt should call their insurers beforehand to check whether services will be covered.

Tricia Neuman, a senior vice president with KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes KFF Health News, noted that Medicare’s website now includes a tool that can help people determine whether their doctors participate in a Medicare Advantage plan.

“This is helpful and a step forward, but information about provider networks is not always correct,” Neuman said. “Errors can come at a cost to enrollees, unless they are willing and able to take on their insurer.”

Tuszynski worked for 30 years as a secretary in hospitals and at doctors’ offices, so she’s familiar with billing issues, she said. “If I can’t sort through all this, how can anybody else do it?”

She knows her $340 bill was much smaller than the medical debts many other people face. But she said it was a serious amount of money to her, and she was glad she objected to the insurer’s contention that the bill shouldn’t be covered.

“I have a strong feeling about right and wrong — and this is just wrong,” she said.

For 2026, she decided to shift out of her Medicare Advantage plan. She now is enrolled in traditional Medicare, plus a supplemental plan to help with copays and other costs. She pays $184 a month for that plan, compared with paying no separate premium for her old Medicare Advantage plan.

Now she won’t have to worry about private insurers’ limited networks of contracted care providers, she said. Her glaucoma treatment will be covered at the Madison eye clinic.

However, she no longer has insurance coverage for eyeglasses, just a discount plan if she buys glasses from certain stores. She used her Medicare Advantage insurance to buy new glasses shortly before switching. “Hopefully, those will last me a while,” she said.

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But two years ago, he heard about Peak Health, a new Advantage plan started by the West Virginia University Health System, where his doctors practice. It was cheaper and offered more personal attention, plus extras such as an allowance for over-the-counter pharmacy items. Those benefits are more important than ever, he said, as he’s treated for cancer.

“I decided to give it a shot,” said Wilkewitz, 79. “If I didn’t like it, I could go back to Humana or whatever after a year.”

He’s sticking with Peak Health. Members of Medicare Advantage plans, a privately run alternative to the government’s Medicare program, can change plans through the end of March.

Now entering its third year, Peak Health has tripled its enrollment since last year, to “north of 10,000,” said Amos Ross, its president. It expanded from 20 counties to 49, he said, and moved into parts of western Pennsylvania for the first time.

Although hospital-owned plans are only a sliver of the Medicare Advantage market, their enrollment continues to grow, reflecting the overall increase in Advantage members. Of the 62.8 million Medicare beneficiaries eligible to join Advantage plans, 54% signed up last year, according to KFF, the health information nonprofit that includes KFF Health News. While the number of Advantage plans owned by hospital systems is relatively stable, Mass General Brigham in Boston and others are expanding their service areas and types of plan offerings.

Health systems have dabbled in the insurance business for years, but it’s not for everyone. MedStar Health, serving the greater Washington, D.C., area, said it closed its Medicare Advantage plan at the end of 2018, citing financial losses.

“It’s a ton of work,” said Ross, who spent more than a decade in the commercial health insurance industry.

Like any other health insurer, hospitals entering the business need a back-office infrastructure to enroll patients, sign up providers, fill prescriptions, process claims, hire staff, and — most importantly — assure state regulators they have a reserve of money to pay claims. Once they get a state insurance license, they need approval from the federal Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services to sell Medicare Advantage policies. Some systems affiliate with or create an insurance subsidiary, and others do most of the job themselves.

Kaiser Permanente, the nation’s largest nonprofit health system by revenue, started an experimental Medicare plan in 1981 and now has nearly 2 million people enrolled in dozens of Advantage plans in eight states and the District of Columbia. The Justice Department announced Jan. 14 that KP had agreed to pay $556 million to settle accusations that its Advantage plans fraudulently billed the government for about $1 billion over a nine-year period.

Last year, UCLA Health introduced two Medicare Advantage plans in Los Angeles County, the most populous county in the United States. Other new hospital-owned plans have cropped up in less profitable rural areas.

“These are communities that have been very hard for insurers to move into,” said Molly Smith, group vice president for public policy at the American Hospital Association.

But Advantage plans offered by hospitals have a familiar, trusted name. They don’t have to move into town, because their owners — the hospitals — never left.

Bad Breakups

Medicare Advantage plans usually restrict their members to a network of doctors, hospitals, and other clinicians that have contracts with the plans to serve them. But if hospitals and plans can’t agree to renew those contracts, or when disputes flare up — often spurred by payment delays, denials, or burdensome prior authorization rules — the health care providers can drop out.

These breakups, plus planned terminations and service area cuts, forced more than 3.7 million Medicare Advantage enrollees to make a tough choice last year: find new insurance for 2026 that their doctors accept or, if possible, keep their plan but find new doctors.

About 1 million of these stranded patients had coverage from UnitedHealthcare, the country’s largest health insurer. In a July earnings update for financial analysts, chief financial officer John Rex blamed the company’s retreat on hospitals, where “most encounters are intensifying in services and costing more.”

The turbulence in the commercial insurance market has upset patients as well as their providers. Sometimes contract disputes have been fought out in the open, with anxious patients in the middle receiving warnings from each side blaming the other for the imminent end to coverage.

When Fred Neary, 88, learned his doctors in the Baylor Scott & White Health system in central and northern Texas would be leaving his Medicare Advantage plan, he was afraid the same thing could happen again if he joined a plan from another commercial insurer. Then he discovered that the 53-hospital system had its own Medicare Advantage plan. He enrolled in 2025 and is keeping the plan this year.

A Health Affairs study that Rich co-authored in July found that enrollment in Advantage plans owned by hospital systems grew faster than traditional Medicare enrollment for the first time in 2023, though not as rapidly as the overall rise in sign-ups for all Advantage plans.

The massive UCLA Health system introduced its two Medicare Advantage plans in Los Angeles County in January 2025, even though patients already had a list of more than 70 Advantage plans to choose from. Before rolling out the plan, the University of California Board of Regents discussed its merits at a November 2024 meeting. The meeting minutes offer rare insight into a conversation that private hospital systems would usually hold behind closed doors.

“As increasing numbers of Medicare-enrolled patients turn to new Medicare Advantage plans, UC Health’s experience with these new plans has not been good, either for patients or providers,” the minutes read, summarizing comments by David Rubin, executive vice president of UC Health.

The minutes also describe comments from Jonathon Arrington, CFO of UCLA Health. “Over the years, in order to care for Medicare Advantage patients, UCLA has entered numerous contracts with other payers, and these contracts have generally not worked out well,” the minutes read. “Every two or three years, UCLA has found itself terminating a contract and signing a new one. Patients have remained loyal to UCLA, some going through three iterations of cancelled contracts in order to remain with UCLA Health.”

Costs to Taxpayers

CMS pays Advantage plans a monthly fixed amount to care for each enrollee based on the member’s health condition and location. In 2024, the federal government paid Advantage plans an estimated $494 billion to care for patients, according to the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission, which monitors the program for Congress.

The commission said this month that it projects insurers in 2026 will be paid 14%, or about $76 billion, more than it would have cost government-run Medicare to care for similar patients.

Many Democratic lawmakers have criticized overpayments to Medicare Advantage insurers, though the program has bipartisan congressional support because of its increasing popularity with Medicare beneficiaries, who are often attracted by dental care and other coverage unavailable through traditional Medicare.

Whenever Congress threatens cuts, insurers claim these generous federal payments are essential to keep Medicare Advantage plans afloat. UCLA Health’s Advantage plans will need at least 15,000 members to be financially sustainable, according to the meeting minutes. CMS data indicates that 7,337 patients signed up in 2025.

A study published in JAMA Surgery in August compared patients in commercial Medicare Advantage who had major surgery with those covered by Medicare Advantage plans owned by their hospital. The latter group had fewer complications, said co-author Thomas Tsai, an associate professor in the Department of Health Policy and Management at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health.

Smith, of the American Hospital Association, isn’t surprised. When insurers and hospitals are not on opposite sides, she said, care delivery can be smoother. “There’s more flexibility to manage premium dollars to cover services that maybe wouldn’t otherwise be covered,” Smith said.

But Tsai warns seniors that hospital-owned Medicare Advantage plans operate under the same rules as those run by commercial health insurance companies. He said patients should consider whether the extra benefits of Advantage plans “are worth the trade-off of potentially narrow provider networks and more utilization management than they would get from traditional Medicare.”

In Texas, Neary hopes the closer relationship between his doctors and his insurance plan means there’s less of a chance that bills for his medical care will be kicked back.

“I don’t think I would run into a situation where they would not provide coverage if one of their own doctors recommended something,” he said.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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This story can be republished for free (details).