Still, Montana’s health department decided last year that Hailstone is no longer eligible for low-cost disability health coverage through Medicaid. The department switched her coverage to the state’s Children’s Health Insurance Program, another Medicaid program — three months before she aged out.

Before making the decision, the state didn’t seek records from the medical team treating Hailstone, according to letters from those doctors reviewed by Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News. Rather, the administrative ruling came after state officials learned the now-19-year-old had stopped receiving Social Security disability payments. She said she did that because she hoped to get healthy enough to work and save some money — beyond what’s allowed under the tethered to those payments. But her health changes day to day, and she said for now she’s still too sick to consistently work.

Hailstone, who lives with her mom, has been able to keep Medicaid coverage while they appeal the case. She said that without Medicaid she can’t afford the treatment to manage the aftermath of her cancer.

“It feels like this process was made to make you give up,” Hailstone said.

Patients with disabilities have long struggled with administrative hoops, blunders, and confusion when trying to qualify for federally subsidized health coverage because of their illness. Now, new federal Medicaid work requirements mean states face the additional task of deciding who qualifies for a medical exemption. That means reviewing medical cases for an even larger swath of Medicaid enrollees.

Attorneys, researchers, and advocates who specialize in public aid said disability cases like Hailstone’s — though separate from the incoming work requirements — are an indication that states aren’t ready. As a result, they said, more people will be denied coverage in an opaque process.

“This will be the story of millions of people,” said Anthony Wright, who heads Families USA, a national nonprofit that advocates for ways to make healthcare more accessible.

Jon Ebelt, a spokesperson with the Montana Department of Public Health and Human Services, said the state doesn’t comment on individual Medicaid cases.

An will have to meet the new rules requiring them to prove they’re working, going to school, or volunteering to keep their Medicaid coverage, according to the Congressional Budget Office. of those enrollees live with a chronic health condition, according to KFF. Some will be excused from those rules if they can prove they’re too sick to work.

More than 5 million people are expected to lose Medicaid coverage by 2034 because of the work requirements, according to the CBO.

Work Requirements Become Law

Many Republican policymakers and the Trump administration have touted Medicaid work requirements to preserve coverage for the neediest. Congress made that national policy through last year’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act and gave states until January 2027 to implement work-for-coverage rules.

Some states are starting those checks early. Montana began in July. Nebraska initiated work requirements in May.

In the federal law creating the work requirements, Congress allowed states to exempt people who have an illness that qualifies them as “medically frail.” Many states created plans for those judgment calls, only to be surprised when federal officials released rules for the requirements that went beyond what Congress outlined, by also requiring enrollees to prove their illness makes it too hard to work.

Families USA and other organizations have argued the new rules force states to set up a patchwork of systems that, together, would be larger and more complicated than the Social Security Administration’s own disability review system. Last year, that federal program cost to administer to roughly 7 million people nationally. For comparison, Wright said, the federal law provided $200 million for states to share as they implement the work requirements. States are paying contractors millions of dollars to prepare often already flawed public aid systems to meet the new standards.

In June, 25 states over the medical frailty rules, arguing they’re too hard for patients to meet and for states to assess. That case is ongoing.

Hailstone was diagnosed with blood cancer at age 10. Her intestines tore, which led to their partial removal. As a result, her body struggles to process food and she can face severe dehydration. She said lingering side effects from her cancer treatment can leave her mind foggy and cause her hands and feet to swell enough that it’s hard to grip a fork or walk across a room.

Cancer dominated nearly half her life. It left mental scars, too.

“Some days you feel fine and then you suddenly crash,” Hailstone said.

Hailstone and her mom live in Roundup, a central Montana town of roughly 2,000 people. They regularly make the nearly two-hour round-trip drive to Billings for specialized care. She typically has three medical appointments a week to see her physical and occupational therapists and a mental health counselor.

Hailstone said she’s lucky she has her mother’s help navigating Medicaid. Her mom, Kyla Hailstone, said that the state hasn’t clearly defined how it determined her daughter’s disability status and that its appeal process has been slow and dysfunctional.

Taya Hailstone would qualify for Medicaid based on her income if she can’t prove her eligibility for disability coverage. But that would mean proving she’s too sick to meet the work requirement — putting her in the same position of having to rely on a state review of her illness.

“If I lose this, this is life-changing,” Hailstone said.

‘Things Fall Through the Cracks’

Hailstone qualified as disabled through the federal government as recently as 2024, about a year before the state said it was dropping her coverage. State officials can do their own medical review to determine whether someone meets the federal definition of a disability to access Medicaid.

“Whether that happens is always a bit of a crapshoot just based on state capacity,” said Megan Dishong, deputy director of the Montana Legal Services Association, which helps low-income people navigate public programs. “Things fall through the cracks.”

Ebelt said the state health department accepts disability decisions from the Social Security Administration. The state agency can conduct an internal disability determination if a person doesn’t have one from the SSA, but Ebelt said it doesn’t have to if a person qualifies for coverage another way.

“We are committed to treating every client with respect and helping those who are eligible receive appropriate Medicaid coverage,” Ebelt said.

Montana instituted a three-month grace period for the work requirements. State officials won’t begin disenrolling people for noncompliance until October.

a University of Michigan social policy professor who has studied bureaucratic obstacles to public benefits, said convoluted disability cases are common enough for attorneys to specialize in accessing aid.

“When we’ve designed public programs in ways that people can’t figure out whether they’re eligible without consulting lawyers, we’ve done something wrong,” Herd said. “That has huge, huge implications for what’s to come.”

Montana officials have said they’ll automatically review medical records that could help patients qualify for an exemption. Even so, the federal guidelines released in June mean patients will probably still face additional steps to guarantee an exemption.

Meanwhile, already overstretched doctors worry they’ll face the burden of judging whether someone’s illness qualifies them for a work exemption.

Dishong said that between now and October, Montana officials could offer more clarity on how the process will work. She said she’s worried the state will end up “with a slow-roll mess” instead.

“This is a problem that’s just starting,” Dishong said.

As for Hailstone, she’s now reapplying for Social Security disability payments. That aid would limit how much she can work. But it would also guarantee access to Medicaid.

Have you tried to prove your eligibility for Medicaid under new rules that require people to show they are working, going to school, or participating in another qualifying activity? Click here to contact Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

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“They called me a ‘liability to the job site,’” Pugh said, recalling the words of his manager when a seizure cost him his last job at a fast-food restaurant in this western Montana city.

When the 46-year-old lost work in the past, his wife of 10 years covered their rent and he tended to their home until he found another job. But his wife died last year. Soon after, Pugh became homeless. His problem with alcohol became worse, which made managing his seizures more difficult.

“When she died, my whole base was depleted,” Pugh said.

Medicaid pays for the prescriptions that keep Pugh’s seizures at bay. The government-subsidized health coverage would also pay for an addiction treatment program that Pugh said he has tried to get into, but he was told there’s a waitlist.

Pugh’s goal has been to get healthy enough to work again. But he’s worried about being able to keep the Medicaid coverage he needs to get to that point.

Early Embrace of New Rules

In the spring, the federal government finalized regulations requiring millions of people who receive Medicaid benefits to prove they’re working, volunteering, or going to school to keep their coverage. States have until January to begin those checks. Montana, Arkansas, and Nebraska have already started implementing them.

The Trump administration’s federal work requirements exempt certain groups of people: those with disabilities, those older than 64, pregnant people and Native Americans, among others. To receive an exemption, anyone without a clear-cut qualification — such as through their age or disability status — will have to prove they’re too sick to work.

But the administration decided that being homeless isn’t a medical condition and can’t count as an automatic out from having to meet the new requirements. Many conservative policymakers support work requirements, and some states have attempted to implement such rules for years. At least four states — Montana, Arizona, Kentucky, and Utah — previously proposed policies that included homelessness as an exemption.

But federal officials have said that’s not allowed. In an email to Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services declined to provide a comment on the record. But the agency confirmed that states must stick to the federal government’s list of exemptions. Homelessness in the U.S. increased by 27% from 2013 to 2025, from the Department of Housing and Urban Development. Last year, about 746,000 people .

Many, like Pugh, qualified for Medicaid, though the number of enrollees who are homeless is difficult to measure. In 2023, who received medical or behavioral health services through one of the nation’s roughly 300 programs were enrolled in Medicaid.

Jennifer Tolbert, deputy director of KFF’s Program on Medicaid and the Uninsured, said the federal regulations are a lot stricter than many states had expected, even those on board with work requirements. (KFF is a health information nonprofit that includes Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.)

“It took everyone by surprise,” Tolbert said.

Mehmet Oz, who leads CMS, touted the regulations as a “path to prosperity” during a press conference in June.

“We need to get people to try to work,” Oz said. In June, 25 mostly Democratic-led states over the regulations, arguing the medical frailty standard would be too hard for enrollees to meet — and for states to assess. The work requirements are projected to increase the number of uninsured people nationwide by by 2034, according to the Congressional Budget Office.

Most states will begin to implement the Medicaid work requirements in January. 

Montana plans to begin booting Medicaid enrollees from coverage this October if they can’t prove they’re in compliance with the work requirement.

“My Medicaid is still active, but when are they gonna cut that off from me?” Pugh said. “I can’t get employed. How am I supposed to survive?”

The differences between the states’ and federal government’s exemption lists don’t end with people who are homeless. In Montana, lawmakers also planned to excuse people fleeing domestic violence and caregivers of hospitalized family members — two other groups left off the federal exemption list.

“These are simply parties that, due to a number of conditions, cannot meet those requirements,” Republican state Rep. Ed Buttrey said in 2019 when the Montana Legislature passed its first Medicaid work requirement bill. Buttrey did not comment for this article.

Federal officials have said many people who are homeless could fall under another exemption, such as being too sick to work. But, like many states, Montana’s system to automatically conduct those checks through existing medical records isn’t ready, though health department spokesperson Jon Ebelt said it should be in place by October. Anyone not automatically exempted by the state would have 30 days to prove their case.

A Possible Exemption for Health

Pugh might qualify for a pass due to his seizures. But getting to doctor appointments the past year has been hard for him.

The anniversary of his wife’s death just passed. Typically, Pugh has to find a new place to sleep outside each night. One night while camping, Pugh lost his wallet and important documents. And with the addiction treatment centers that accept Medicaid patients overbooked, Pugh has had to rely on willpower to avoid drinking.

“I’m taking it one day at a time,” he said.

A little over two hours north, in Kalispell, Dustin Goss, a case manager at a homeless shelter called Samaritan House, said Pugh’s experience reflects why he’s worried that people who qualify for an exemption will get tangled in bureaucratic tape.

“You can’t really worry about getting paperwork done when you don’t know where you’re eating today,” Goss said.

Cassidy Kipp, who heads Samaritan House, said once people find shelter and start to stabilize, they typically find work. But even then, meeting the new requirements can be challenging. Clients often start with temporary and informal jobs — such as cleaning out a storage unit — that don’t come with a pay stub, Kipp said. 

Kaitlyn Bosshardt, a social worker at Partnership Health Center, a health clinic in Missoula, has seen more people priced out of longtime rentals as housing costs outpace people’s paychecks. Meanwhile, affordable housing and rental aid are limited.

Partnership Health is one of roughly 1,400 health centers nationwide that receive federal funding to serve patients based on what they can afford — meaning even those who lose Medicaid can receive care. But organizations representing health centers have said if too many patients lose the coverage, some clinics won’t be able to fill the financial hole.

The other problem is that these clinics generally don’t provide specialty care.

One day in June, as temperatures hovered around 90,  Pugh visited Watershed Navigation Center, a refuge run by Partnership for people without steady housing to have a meal or see a doctor. His doctor, Atarah Sidey, told Pugh that the neurology clinic that managed his seizures had dismissed him from their care after he missed three appointments.

She referred Pugh to the other neurologist in town and talked about trying to find treatment for his addiction.

“It’s just that if I don’t make the effort at changing, it ain’t gonna happen and I’m gonna end up found on the side of the road somewhere,” Pugh told Sidey.

“You got this, though, Tywon,” she responded as Pugh nodded his head. “You can do this.”

Pugh has connected with a social worker for help keeping his Medicaid. By late July, he was waiting for space to open at a Missoula addiction treatment center and waiting on responses from two job applications.

In the hard moments, Pugh imagines his wife telling him to stay calm, that things will get better.

“I just don’t wanna lose hope in the meantime,” he said.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

In June, Vincent Munster, an infectious disease researcher at the National Institutes of Health, was charged with bringing biological specimens into the U.S. without proper documents. Weeks later, Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky.) ordered Anthony Fauci, Munster’s former boss, to appear before a Senate committee, alleging that he’d lied to Congress about the covid-19 pandemic’s origins. This spring, the FBI detained a former aide to Fauci, and federal officials banned a virus researcher in North Carolina from receiving federal funding.

In each case, senior U.S. officials and members of Congress have leaned into unproven theories that arrogant scientists damaged rather than protected public health by recklessly experimenting with covid and other killer viruses, including in China.

Conservative groups and social influencers have amplified that view through a whirlwind of covid conspiracy theories, bioterrorism fearmongering, and anti-immigration sentiment. The recent charges stirred long-held mistrust of the high-security Rocky Mountain Laboratories, where Munster works, among residents of this blue-collar mountain town in Montana built on logging.

A dozen scientists interviewed for this article said that any crimes or errors committed by Munster, who was transporting vials of inactivated mpox for research purposes, seemed to be over paperwork and posed no threat to the public. Nonetheless, some colleagues in Montana said, the alleged improprieties needlessly bat a hornet’s nest.

“This just gives ammunition to the people that are trying to stop this valuable research,” said Kim Hasenkrug, a scientist emeritus at the NIH who worked at Rocky Mountain Labs for 31 years. “Even people who have trusted us in the past, this sows seeds of distrust. How could it not?”

Cuts to U.S. foreign aid and research funding have left tens of millions of dollars in gaps in the fight against spreading Ebola and mpox outbreaks, scientists told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News. “When the next pandemic comes around and we need vaccines to protect ourselves, the chances are that China will develop them before we do,” said Kristian Andersen, an evolutionary biologist at Scripps Research. Andersen co-authored studies that stoked the ire of proponents of the theory that a lab leak started the covid pandemic.

Emily Hilliard, a spokesperson for the Department of Health and Human Services, which includes the NIH, said the federal government “remains fully equipped to protect Americans and respond to emerging public health threats.” She said the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention had deployed experts domestically and internationally to respond to Ebola.

Scientists like Munster are indispensable for figuring out the source of pandemic viruses, whether bats, pigs, rats, or some other animal, Andersen said. Munster “is the person who goes out to Africa to get samples of bad viruses from people,” said Stanley Perlman, a virologist at the University of Iowa and a longtime member of the FDA’s vaccine advisory panel. “He’s done lots of things that needed to be done, and he does them well.”

Authorities arrested Munster and Claude Kwe, a research fellow at Rocky Mountain Labs, June 2 on charges of conspiracy to smuggle mpox into the United States and lying to border agents. They had been stopped Jan. 25 at the Detroit airport after returning from the Republic of Congo.

The announcing the charges said FBI testing had confirmed the viruses were inactivated — Munster helped — but that the scientists jeopardized Americans’ safety.

“These NIH experts apparently broke our laws by smuggling viral pathogens on a packed commercial airplane from an outbreak in the Republic of Congo. Let that sink in,” said Jerome Gorgon, U.S. attorney for the Eastern District of Michigan.

The says Munster and Kwe falsely told customs agents the mpox specimens they brought back were for diagnostic use. Yet several scientists told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News that the specimens most likely were indeed for use in developing mpox diagnostic tests.

The complaint also states that the scientists lacked the appropriate documents. requires researchers to register and certify inactivated viruses.

“He is presumed innocent and we will have to await future proceedings before commenting,” Kwe’s federal community defender, Benton Martin, said of his client.

In Montana, Marshall Bloom, an associate director at Rocky Mountain Labs, told the Ravalli County Board of Health in a July meeting that the scientists have been suspended and aren’t allowed on campus amid an internal NIH investigation. “These are not trivial accusations,” Bloom said.

It is not illegal or unheard of to take an inactivated virus on a plane. If the samples were inactive, “the risk is zero,” said Daniel Jernigan, who worked for 26 years at the CDC and led its National Center for Emerging and Zoonotic Infectious Diseases until retiring last August.

“But you have to have the documentation available,” he added.

Jernigan recalled reprimands issued for this sort of lapse but knew of no arrests.

“In this climate,” Perlman said, “you’d want to make sure you talk to people at your institution to make sure any i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed.”

Munster’s attorney didn’t respond to multiple interview requests.

Skeptical Neighbors

Conservative politicians and others skeptical of the nation’s covid response have had Munster and Rocky Mountain Labs on their radar for years.

The facility is in Hamilton, a town of 5,000 in rural Ravalli County, which gave President Donald Trump 69% of its vote in 2024. The lab got its start with studies of Rocky Mountain spotted fever in the 1900s, when ranchers and cattle were dying from the then-unknown disease.

Today it is a Biosafety Level 4 facility, one of only several dozen labs in the world to employ the highest level of safety controls that enable scientists to study the deadliest pathogens.

Munster and his laboratory of viral ecology are known as the “go-to group for highly dangerous viruses” such as Middle East respiratory syndrome, Nipah, Ebola, and bird flu, said zoologist Peter Daszak, whose work has also been targeted in recent years. Munster “goes into red zones,” gets samples from sick people, and makes diagnostic tests that help assess an outbreak and how to stop it, Daszak said.

Munster and his colleagues contributed to studies of , , and — work that put the lab in the crosshairs of people warning about the dangers of biomedical research.

In April, the White Coat Waste Project, a self-described government watchdog group to stop tax-funded animal testing, paid for billboards across seven cities with NIH-funded labs, including Hamilton.

The next month, about the investigation into Munster, citing an anonymous letter. That caught the attention of Laura Loomer, a far-right activist known as a loyalty enforcer for Trump who has the president’s ear. She posted about it to her 1.9 million followers on the social platform X.

“Fauci Holdovers at @NIH and @HHSGov are about to unleash Ebola in America,” Loomer posted on May 17, asking why Munster, who is Dutch, and Kwe, from Cameroon, weren’t imprisoned or deported.

Little more than a week later, Montana Republican U.S. Sen. Tim Sheehy sent a letter to HHS calling for an investigation, saying the alleged improper behavior by the scientists could threaten national security.

Munster and Kwe were charged days later. U.S. Rep. Paul Gosar, an Arizona Republican, in mid-July as a reason to close the Hamilton facility, part of his ongoing “Fauci-era programs.”

The arrests added to local apprehensions about the facility.

 “You can’t pick and choose which rules you follow when you’re dealing with this stuff,” County Commissioner Jeff Burrows said at a June meeting. “And I know he’s innocent until proven guilty, but for God’s sakes, this is a big deal.”

The Ongoing Push To Blame Fauci

About two weeks after the charges, departing Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard released declassified documents that she said proved Fauci had lied to Congress about NIH-funded research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, the lab that, in her words, “sparked covid.” The documents, however, provide no new evidence that the lab launched the covid virus. Most, though not all, virus experts think the best evidence indicates the virus jumped from bats to other animals, and then to humans at a Wuhan market.

of the lab-leak theory have issued fresh calls to punish Fauci, 85, and scientists his institute funded. Fauci declined to comment for this article.

Shortly after Gabbard’s report, Paul, who chairs the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee, subpoenaed Fauci to testify before the committee.

Fauci “was Dr. Frankenstein of the modern era” and “has the blood of millions of people on his hands,” Peter Navarro, a senior adviser to Trump, on June 25. “You idiot! … You need to come clean, Fauci.”

The administration’s mistrust of the federal bureaucracy and the scientific work it has funded has led to broad cuts and staffing losses, including in .

A May 2025 suspended research on many risky viruses, and HHS later halted an $82 million, that funded research into emerging viruses by 10 labs across the world. In late May this year, the White House that would give political appointees sweeping power over all federally funded science.

Prominent covid experts and scientists close to Fauci have been called before congressional committees, barred from receiving government grants, or arrested.

In April, heavily armed FBI agents of David Morens, Fauci’s 78-year-old former aide. They forced him to strip to his underwear and drove him in handcuffs 40 miles to a federal courthouse, where he was briefly jailed, according to Science magazine. Morens’ case is pending.

In May, HHS told Ralph Baric, a University of North Carolina coronavirus expert, that it was halting his federal funding because of a “pattern of deception” in his communications with the NIH. .

In some ways, the arrests of Munster and Kwe felt unsurprising, said Philip Stewart, a recently retired Rocky Mountain Labs researcher focused on tick-borne diseases.

“There is an anti-science movement,” Stewart said. “We are targets, and if it hadn’t been Vincent, it would have been someone else.”

Most Americans believe in the lab-leak theory, according to surveys, and several U.S. intelligence agencies lean in that direction. That makes targeting scientists who do that kind of work politically expedient, said Daszak, whose NIH-funded nonprofit worked with Chinese virologists in Wuhan and has been under scrutiny since April 2020, when Trump his funding ended.

Animal viruses jump to humans in the wild a year, usually producing negligible infections, occasionally sparking an outbreak. The Ebola virus causing the current African epidemic may have originated in bats, which seem to carry it without getting sick.

Doctors on the ground in the Democratic Republic of Congo lacked diagnostic tests . Munster, who has extensively researched Ebola, was locked out of his lab soon after the January detention.

“While we sit around removing pandemic preparedness grants, arresting scientists, locking them up in some cases,” Daszak said, “viruses are out there evolving.”

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

But officials warned that all optional Medicaid services are still under review as the state health department looks for cuts to offset a shortfall driven by higher-than-expected Medicaid costs.

Jon Ebelt, a spokesperson with the Montana Department of Public Health and Human Services, said the agency is preparing a request to the federal government to add doula care to the state’s Medicaid program. It would cost the state about $118,000 in its first year to provide doula Medicaid reimbursements, according to .

His April 15 comments came three weeks after department officials told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News that the state budget deficit had put those plans on hold. Ebelt denied that a final decision had been made in March to scrap the doula Medicaid payments, which state lawmakers approved in a bill last year. The coverage is “now proceeding as planned,” he said.

“At the time of your initial inquiry, we were still in the process of analyzing the appropriation,” Ebelt said.

Federal health officials must approve any amendments to the state’s Medicaid program before payments can begin. reimburse doulas through Medicaid.

Doulas are trained, nonmedical workers who support people through pregnancy and after they give birth. The care they provide is in health complications, which has prompted more states to cover doula services in recent years.

Montana lawmakers who supported expanding Medicaid to cover doula care in 2025 cited scarce maternity services, especially in rural and Indigenous communities. But this year, the state has a Medicaid budget deficit of more than and is expecting a similar shortfall next year. Plus, federal policy changes slated to take effect later this year are expected to increase costs.

“ There’s a need and a desire for doula services, but a lot of people can’t afford it,” said Sheri Walker, a Helena-based doula and president of the . “So that means many of us have other jobs that we have to juggle.”

Walker is a part-time labor and delivery nurse outside of her doula work.

On March 25, health department spokesperson Holly Matkin said in an email to Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News that the agency “will not be moving forward with the implementation of doula services in the Montana Medicaid benefit package at this time.” She had added that it was unclear whether state law gives the department the authority to authorize coverage during the budget shortfall.

State Sen. , a Democrat who sponsored last year’s bipartisan doula reimbursement bill, said she didn’t know about the department’s plans until she saw Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News’ reporting. Neumann said she and groups that had backed the legislation began calling health officials, making the case for doula services as a low-cost way to provide critical care.

After about a week, Neumann said, state officials told her the agency was moving ahead with doula services after all.

“They were on the chopping block,” Neumann said. “This is a story of how important it is for all Montanans to pay attention and stay connected to what’s happening.”

Ebelt did not clarify what led the department to change its position. However, he warned that optional Medicaid services, such as doula services, may still be cut.

“All optional services, including this service, are being reviewed,” Ebelt said, referring to doula care. He did not respond to a follow-up query as to whether the department might still decide to postpone the program following federal approval.

are types of care that states choose to cover through their Medicaid programs but aren’t required by federal law. That can include covering eyeglasses, prescription drugs, and prosthetics, and more specialized care such as physical therapy, or inpatient psychiatric services for people under 21.

Those services may not sound optional, said , who studies Medicaid financing at KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News. But she said they’re one of the few avenues states have to make adjustments when budgets get tight.

Congressional Republicans’ One Big Beautiful Bill Act, the spending measure President Donald Trump signed into law last July, is expected to put more states in a budget crunch as its provisions start to take effect by the end of the year. The federal government has estimated that the law will reduce federal Medicaid spending by nearly $1 trillion over 10 years. The law also left states with a higher share of the costs to provide food assistance.

Williams said many states expanded services in recent years by boosting optional Medicaid benefits and provider pay.

“We could see them walk those back,” Williams said.

Montana’s financial problems preceded federal changes. Last year, state lawmakers cut some of the health department’s funding and underestimated Medicaid use. The state also overestimated what the federal government would pay toward Montana’s Medicaid costs.

Health officials must outline a plan to cut costs before the state’s 2027 budget year begins on July 1. Simultaneously, the agency is trying to hire more staffers to begin vetting whether Medicaid enrollees meet or are exempt from new work requirements that also go in place July 1. The new rules, mandated through long-delayed state legislation and the federal spending law, will have a three-month grace period.

Stephanie Morton, executive director of , said she’s grateful the state is back on track to pay for doula services through Medicaid. But she said she’s worried about potential health care cuts to come.

“We know that doulas are a critical piece of that infrastructure, but standing alone and losing other sources of care really isn’t optimal,” Morton said. “These are not robust systems as it stands.”

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

A mom of seven, Pipe is a doula on the reservation who supports new and expectant parents. She does that work free, around her day job. That’s because in this town of about 2,000 people, the closest hospital that delivers babies is 100 miles away.

“Women need this help,” Pipe said.

Doulas ready parents for childbirth, support their deliveries, and can be a steady presence in a baby’s first months. their work with lower rates of costly birth and postpartum complications — especially in hard-to-reach places like Lame Deer.

But that help can be scarce. As Pipe put it: “Doula doesn’t pay the bills around here.”

Things were supposed to change this year. Montana was set to join that reimburse doulas through their Medicaid programs to ease gaps in care. Montana lawmakers approved the payments last year, authorizing up to $1,600 per pregnancy. Pipe hoped that money would give her the chance to leave her post office job one day to help more parents.

But the state Department of Public Health and Human Services postponed adding doula services to its Medicaid program in late March, citing a budget shortfall driven in part by higher-than-expected Medicaid costs.

“DPHHS will not be moving forward with the implementation of doula services in the Montana Medicaid benefit package at this time,” department spokesperson Holly Matkin told Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News.

The news caught Pipe by surprise — she hadn’t heard any updates in a while, but the state had finalized its licensing rules for doulas in January. Last year, she supported three people through their deliveries. She doesn’t have time for much more. That weighs on her. the people on the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation , and the people she helps usually can’t afford to pay a doula.

“I was looking forward to serving more people,” Pipe said. “Now that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

Charlie Brereton, who heads the health department, told state lawmakers in March that the agency projected a $146.3 million shortfall in federal Medicaid funds for this year. Health officials predict another deficit next year as states feel the effects of Republicans’ massive tax-and-spending law, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. Signed last year, that law is projected to reduce federal Medicaid spending by nearly $1 trillion over 10 years.

Matkin said it’s “unclear” whether the agency can authorize doula coverage this year. The deficit will lead the department to seek supplemental funding from state lawmakers. When an agency makes that kind of request for the first year of the state’s two-year budget cycle, requires it to create a plan to reduce its spending.

Around the country, optional Medicaid services — such as doula support, home health care, and dental work — are at risk of losing funding as states brace for federal Medicaid cuts to hit their bottom lines. Already, lawmakers in Idaho are considering their own reductions to Medicaid to balance the state’s budget. cutting tens of millions of dollars in services for people with disabilities.

In Montana, doula services are unlikely to be the only Medicaid cutbacks announced. “All options are on the table,” Brereton told lawmakers in March.

Stephanie Morton, executive director of Healthy Mothers, Healthy Babies-The Montana Coalition, said more than half of Montana’s counties are designated as maternity care deserts.

“Budget cuts will continue to diminish the limited services families rely upon in these counties,” said Morton, whose nonprofit had advocated for doula Medicaid reimbursement. “This decision feels like the first of many rollbacks and cuts Montanans will face.”

Laboring Alone

At the check-in just outside town, Pipe handed a waking newborn to his mother and unwrapped a new swaddle for the child. This would have to be a quick visit — she was already late for work.

The mother, Britney WolfVoice, held her newborn son as her three young daughters stood close by. Pipe has been with WolfVoice and her husband for the birth of their newborn son and youngest daughter.

She helped them create delivery plans. For the birth of WolfVoice’s youngest daughter a few years ago, Pipe brought cedar oil, a sacred plant used for prayer, and calmed WolfVoice through her contractions. For the recent birth of her son, when hospital backlogs delayed WolfVoice’s induction, Pipe encouraged her to advocate for an earlier appointment by routinely calling the hospital. Doctors had recommended the procedure to avoid complications.

“Misty is one person who I can count on to be my voice,” WolfVoice said.

If someone needs a ride to a doctor’s appointment, Pipe takes time off work to drive them. If a client goes into labor when Pipe’s at the post office, she texts two other free doulas she knows of on the reservation to see if they have time to help until her shift ends. But they also have day jobs.

Pipe herself has ridden that 100-mile stretch between home and the hospital in labor and in the back of an ambulance. Twice, she gave birth in emergency rooms along the way. In one of her pregnancies, she miscarried at home and couldn’t get a doctor appointment for days.

The long distance to receive care often meant her husband had to stay behind to tend to their other children at home.

“I labored alone so many times,” Pipe said. “I just want to make sure no one’s alone.”

Rural maternity care deserts are a , especially as labor and delivery units continue to shutter. In many tribal communities, a lack of care coincides with long-standing inequities caused by centuries of .

Predominantly Indigenous communities face the longest distances to obstetric facilities compared with all other racial and ethnic groups, according to a 2024 report from the March of Dimes. That’s part of the reason Indigenous women are far more likely to get sick from pregnancy and as white women.

Indigenous patients are supposed to be guaranteed access to health care through the federal Indian Health Service. But the chronically underfunded agency has severe gaps. A small fraction of its hospitals and clinics offer labor and delivery. As of 2024, only seven states had either an IHS or tribal birth facility, . To help fill in those shortfalls, Medicaid is the for many Native Americans, according to KFF.

Even where care exists, Native women can experience a distrust of health systems, according to Pipe and other health workers. The U.S. government has a long history of removing children from tribal homes and forcing Native American women to undergo sterilization.

of the Pacific Institute for Research and Evaluation’s Southwest center has studied premature deaths among Native Americans. A member of the Fort Sill-Chiricahua-Warm Springs-Apache Tribe, Haozous said data on maternal health disparities in pregnancy and postpartum often misses a key point.

“It’s not that women are just not taking care of themselves,” Haozous said. “The system is set up for them to not have access to care.”

On top of funding cuts, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act will add more frequent eligibility checks and work requirements to access Medicaid. Those changes, when they take effect later this year and next, will lead an estimated 5.3 million people to lose their coverage by 2034.

Native Americans are exempt from some of the law’s new rules, such as the work requirements. Even so, tribal patients can get tangled in administrative hurdles. That includes struggling to enroll in the first place or to prove their tribal status. A full-time college student, WolfVoice said that when she got pregnant, it took about six months to enroll in the state’s Medicaid program.

Despite Montana’s long struggle with a backlogged Medicaid system, state officials aim to implement work requirements this summer, well before the federal deadline.

‘Moccasins on the Ground’

As Pipe pulled into her driveway one day after a full shift at the post office, her kids ran to her. She was also greeted by Felicia Blindman, a 63-year-old public health nurse who used to work for the tribe. The two sat in lawn chairs into the night and brainstormed ways to connect more women to services — such as free prenatal classes.

Pipe’s four youngest children played around them. Her 14-year-old daughter is already certified as an Indigenous doula. Her 8-year-old daughter has begun helping Pipe pick up prescriptions for moms without a car who live out of town. Pipe hopes one day they could do that work full-time, if they want to.

Because of the lost Medicaid payment, Pipe said, she will continue to balance her job with her birth work, even if it means persuading more people to become doulas, such as family and respected community members, to cover more ground.

“It’s not going to stop me from training more birth workers, more young people, more aunties,” Pipe said. “For now, I guess it’s more about grassroots, moccasins on the ground, helping each other.”

She said that means telling pregnant people who walk into the post office she’s there to help if they need support. At least, as long as she’s not at her day job.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

Sylvia Chou, 51, Maryland

Program director, National Cancer Institute

Sylvia Chou specializes in communication between patients and their health care providers, and social media’s role in public health. She joined the federal government in 2007 as a fellow and became a civil servant in 2010.

She left her National Cancer Institute job in January, she said, because the “work is no longer based on facts or truth.”

After President Donald Trump returned to office, Chou said, health communication scientists like her were falsely accused of “essentially doing propaganda work.” The administration’s “anti-DEI hysteria,” she said, referring to diversity, equity, and inclusion, meant research funded by the National Institutes of Health was flagged and scrubbed of references to “equity, vulnerable, underserved, poor, even communities of color, minorities.”

She said the agency’s climate in 2025 brought to mind her childhood in Taiwan, when the island was still ruled by an authoritarian regime.

“I could see the difference between a time when, you know, we have a choral competition and we have to sing the same songs to revere the leader of the country, to suddenly they say you can sing any song you want,” Chou said. “I came to this country in part because there was so much opportunity to think freely.”

“To see us going backwards,” she added, “it just made me feel like I have limited time on this earth and I cannot participate anymore inside the system.”

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‘One Hurdle After Another’

Philip Stewart, 60, Montana

Staff scientist, National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases

Philip Stewart’s work was about understanding the pathogens ticks carry that make people and animals sick.

That often started with walks through tall grass searching for the arachnids. He analyzed them back at Rocky Mountain Laboratories.

When Trump entered office in 2025, Stewart experienced repeated disruptions to his work.

“It’s been one hurdle after another. Just when you’ve gotten over one and you think it’s finally behind you, another hurdle pops up,” Stewart said. “I don’t see that changing.”

NIH workers responsible for buying laboratory supplies were fired. As a result, Stewart said, he faced delays in getting the basics, including materials used to identify tick species.

Travel bans in early 2025 threatened his fieldwork. When those bans lifted, Stewart said, for the first time in his career he needed a presidential appointee’s approval to travel. Amid last year’s government shutdown, Stewart missed his only opportunity in the year to collect ticks from deer at hunting stations — his best chance to see if deer ticks had become established in Montana.

The review process for scientists to share their research became more burdensome.

He said scientists have debated whether they should try to stay and work within the system, adding that, if everyone leaves, “no cures get found.”

“If I saw a way to stay on and be useful and perhaps to protest, then I think I would’ve stayed,” Stewart said. “But I don’t see any of those alternatives.”

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‘Losing a Lot of Expertise’

Alexa Romberg, 48, Maryland

Deputy branch chief, National Institute on Drug Abuse

Alexa Romberg is a scientist who specializes in preventing the use of and addiction to tobacco, electronic cigarettes, and cannabis. The harms that stem from substance use or addiction don’t affect all Americans equally, she said.

Romberg left her “dream job” at the National Institute on Drug Abuse in December, she said, because Trump policies had compromised the research she helped oversee. Among other things, Romberg said, grants were terminated under an initiative she led to reduce health disparities among racial and ethnic minorities related to substance use. Pending applications were also pulled, she said, adding, “I couldn’t be effective from the inside in actively really preserving the science.”

Romberg said her work was undone even though it was consistent with “what the NIH leadership is saying that they want.” In August, NIH Director Jay Bhattacharya on priorities that included “solution-oriented approaches in health disparities research.”

Before the upheaval throughout 2025, she thought she would work at NIDA for the rest of her career.

“We’re losing a lot of expertise,” Romberg said. “Both scientific,” she added, and “institutional knowledge.”

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Research ‘for the Benefit of Our Society’

Marc Ernstoff, 73, Maryland and Vermont

Branch chief, National Cancer Institute

Marc Ernstoff spent most of his career in academia before joining the National Cancer Institute in 2020. He led a team of scientists who oversaw grants for research into how the immune system responds to cancer, with the goal of developing drugs that extend patients’ lives.

“I felt that it was important for me to help define a national agenda in immuno-oncology and to give back to a country that I love by working as a civil servant,” Ernstoff said.

Under Trump, the NIH became a “hostile work environment.” Projects with “no weaknesses” were denied funding. Ernstoff left because of those challenges and because he was denied permission to work remotely. He now has a part-time position at Dartmouth Health in New Hampshire.

Leveraging a person’s immune system to fight off cancer is “just the beginning of the story,” Ernstoff said. Understanding how the immune system works — and the environmental and other factors that affect it — all “goes into developing better therapeutics for patients.”

“In my opinion, the government has a responsibility to support this kind of research for the benefit of our society,” he said.

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Eyeing Less Stress, Better Pay

Daniel Dulebohn, 45, Montana

Staff scientist, National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases

At Rocky Mountain Laboratories, Daniel Dulebohn studied how molecules come together in infections and diseases. He helped agency researchers across the nation get insight needed for new discoveries and treatments.

Dulebohn said he worked for the government because he knew his research wouldn’t be steered by the pressure to make money. He had planned to stay indefinitely.

“You’re trying to cure a disease or understand something fundamental about biology,” Dulebohn said.

But then his work began to feel insecure, especially as as inept, corrupt, and partisan.

“Reading the news and hearing people discuss the validity of vaccines,” he said, made him think, “Do we need iron lungs again, or people in wheelchairs, to say, ‘Huh, maybe vaccines are a good idea’? I mean, I don’t know; for me, it was just too much.”

He added federal researchers typically have other options for jobs with bigger paychecks.

Dulebohn left his job in September. He’s taking a year off to think about next options with his wife and their three young kids. Dulebohn said he’s considering going into real estate full-time, which until recently was a weekend hobby.

“It’s a lot less stress,” he said. “Pay is better.”

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‘Susceptible to Political Decision-Making’

Jennifer Troyer, 57, Maryland

Division director, National Human Genome Research Institute

Jennifer Troyer’s work for the NIH most recently involved reviewing research and overseeing funding awarded to institutions for genomics research. Genomics studies all of a person’s genes to better understand health and disease risk.

She called it quits at the end of December, more than two decades after she arrived. She left for one reason, she said: “The way that the NIH is making the agreement to fund science is now susceptible to political decision-making in a way that it was not before.”

“NIH is looking at not the value of the science but whether the science falls within particular political or socially-acceptable-to-this-administration constructs,” she said. “Not whether it’s valuable for human health but whether it might offend somebody.”

For example, she saw HHS move to to Harvard after alleging that it had shown “deliberate indifference” to antisemitism on campus. Early-career investigators from minority backgrounds lost their research dollars because the money was awarded under programs to make the science workforce more diverse.

The loss of staff means the NIH has “lost so much of that institutional knowledge and leadership, which is not something that is easy or can be learned overnight,” she said.

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Philip Stewart, a Rocky Mountain Laboratories researcher focused on tick-borne diseases, said he retired two years earlier than planned because of hurdles that made it too challenging to do his job well.

Alexa Romberg, an addiction prevention scientist focused on tobacco, said she “lost a great deal” of the research she oversaw when federal grants vanished.

“If one is thinking about the ‘Make America Healthy Again’ agenda and the prevention of chronic disease,” Romberg said, “tobacco use is the No. 1 contributor to early morbidity and mortality that we can prevent.”

The National Institutes of Health is the largest public funder of biomedical research in the world, with a to “enhance health, lengthen life, and reduce illness.”

Over decades, the value of the NIH may be the one thing everyone in Washington has agreed on. Lawmakers have routinely boosted its funding.

“I’m so pleased to be associated with NIH,” former Sen. Roy Blunt, a Missouri Republican and one of the NIH’s biggest champions in Congress, shortly before he retired.

But in President Donald Trump’s second term, the NIH has seen an exodus of scientists like Ernstoff, Stewart, and Romberg. Federal data shows the NIH lost about 4,400 people — more than 20% of its workforce. Scientists say the departures harm the U.S.’ ability to respond to disease outbreaks, develop treatments for chronic illnesses, and confront the nation’s most pressing public health problems.

“People are going to get hurt,” said Sylvia Chou, a scientist who worked at the National Cancer Institute in Rockville, Maryland, for over 15 years before she left in January. “There’s going to be a lot more health challenges and even deaths, because we need science in order to help people get healthy.”

Why They’re Leaving

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News interviewed a half dozen scientists who said they quit their jobs years before they’d planned to because of the tumult of 2025.

Only a few years ago, the NIH workforce was steadily growing, from roughly 17,700 employees in fiscal year 2019 to around 21,100 in fiscal 2024, federal data shows. Under Trump, those gains have been slashed.

The Trump administration enacted a campaign to purge government workers perceived as disloyal to the president. People were fired or encouraged to leave. Officials instituted a months-long freeze on hiring.

The NIH workforce has plummeted to about 17,100 people — its lowest level in at least two decades. Most who left weren’t fired. Roughly 4 in 5 either retired, quit, had appointments that expired, or transferred to a different job, according to federal data.

Scientists watched with dread as their colleagues were forced to terminate research funds for topics the Trump administration deemed off-limits. Across NIH labs, routine work stalled. They said they faced major delays in accessing equipment and supplies. Travel authorizations were slowed or denied.

Agency staff were instructed not to communicate with anyone outside the agency. When they could talk again, they were subject to greater constraints on what they could present to the public.

And under the administration’s agenda to eliminate “diversity, equity, and inclusion,” references to minorities or health equity were purged from NIH-funded research. Initiatives to protect Americans’ health were gutted. Among them: support for early-career scientists, ways to prevent harm from HIV or substance use, and efforts to study how different populations’ immune systems respond to disease.

, Chou and Romberg were among a group of NIH scientists who said they resigned in protest of an administration “that treats science not as a process for building knowledge, but as a means to advance its political agenda.”

A ‘Fundamental Destruction’

Health and Human Services spokesperson Emily Hilliard said in a statement that the agency had shifted to focus on evidence-based research over “ideological agendas.” She said the NIH is still recruiting “the best and brightest” and advancing high-quality science to “deliver breakthroughs for the American people.” The federal health department oversees NIH.

“A major reset was overdue. HHS has taken action to streamline operations, reduce redundancies, and return to pre-pandemic employment levels,” Hilliard said.

Many scientists, however, question whether the NIH can still fulfill its public mission.

“There’s been a fundamental destruction,” said Daniel Dulebohn, a researcher who spent nearly two decades at Rocky Mountain Laboratories in Hamilton, Montana. It’s going to “take a very, very long time to rebuild.”

Dulebohn left the NIH’s infectious disease and allergy institute in September.

He analyzed how molecules and proteins interact in diseases, such as Lyme disease, HIV, and Alzheimer’s — information that’s key for new treatments. Dulebohn was a resource for scientists when they hit walls trying to understand, for example, if molecules could prevent infection or react to a treatment.

Now he and his wife are living off savings in Mexico with their three young kids. Dulebohn’s thinking about what’s next. One option: real estate.

The expert in biochemical analysis operated equipment few others know how to use. His exit further depletes resources in the specialty.

“It’s clear when someone comes out with a drug and now you’ve just cured a disease. But you never know which ones could have been cured,” Dulebohn said. “We don’t know what we’ve lost.”

Laura Stark, a Vanderbilt University associate professor who specializes in the history of medicine and science, said wiping out NIH staff will propel a shift toward private-industry research, with its profit motives, “as opposed to actually helping American health.”

“We just don’t have people who are now able to pursue research for the public good,” Stark said.

From Support to Scrutiny

Stark said the seeds of the present-day NIH were planted during World War II when the U.S. government spearheaded an effort to mass-produce the antibiotic penicillin to save soldiers from infections.

The agency has played a central role in lifesaving discoveries and treatments — including for heart disease, cancer, diabetes, and genetic diseases such as cystic fibrosis.

With bipartisan backing from Congress, the NIH budget has grown significantly over time, sitting at $48.7 billion for fiscal 2026. The NIH allocates roughly 11% of its budget for agency scientists. About 80% is awarded to universities and other institutions.

The money may be there, but the people who get it out the door are not, scientists said.

Jennifer Troyer left the National Human Genome Research Institute in Bethesda, Maryland, on Dec. 31, after working in various positions at the NIH for about 25 years. The division she led reviews research and oversees grants to organizations studying the human genome — or a person’s complete set of genes — and how it can be used to benefit health.

Last year, she said, her division lost about two-thirds of its staff. “There really are not enough people there right now to actually get the work done,” Troyer said. “It’s extreme harm.”

She decided to quit the day Trump issued an in August that prohibited the use of grants to “fund, promote, encourage, subsidize, or facilitate” what it described as “anti-American values.” It also allowed political appointees to review all funding decisions.

“I wasn’t going to operate a division under those orders,” Troyer said. She hasn’t figured out her next career steps.

‘Enough Is Enough’

Research aligned with the administration’s stated priorities has suffered.

HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has called the diagnosis and treatment of Lyme disease — a tick-borne infection that can cause debilitating lifelong symptoms — . In December, Kennedy said the government had long dismissed patients burdened with a disease that in the U.S. are diagnosed with annually.

That same month, Stewart, who had dedicated his career to ticks and Lyme disease as a federal scientist, retired early. He’d worked for the government for 27 years. Stewart said workforce cuts and travel delays stalled his efforts to confirm how far Lyme-carrying ticks had spread — information that could help doctors recognize symptoms sooner.

Stewart was a lead scientist on research published last year , or deer tick, in Montana. It was the first time the tick best known for transmitting Lyme disease had been confirmed in the state. He wanted to determine if the discovery was a fluke or an indicator that the species was gaining ground.

“The advice we’ve been getting is, ‘Put your head down below the trench line. Don’t look. Don’t peek over and risk getting shot,’” Stewart said. “At what point do you finally say, ‘Enough is enough’ and ‘We’re not being effective anymore’?”

Scientists said those early in their careers are looking abroad for jobs and training. People who want to stay in the U.S. are running into problems getting hired because of cuts to research grants and uncertainty about funding.

Collectively, people studying diseases warn the U.S. could lose its long-held position as the global leader in biomedical research, with devastating impact.

Stanley Perlman, a University of Iowa virologist who studies pediatric infectious diseases, said that title earned the nation more than prestige; it drew top scientists from the world over to the U.S. to study diseases that particularly affect people here.

There’s no guarantee halted research will be picked up elsewhere, whether by private industry or other countries. If others are doing that work, Americans could face delays in seeing benefits, he said.

“If you don’t have access to how the work was done,” Perlman said, “it’s harder to reproduce and adapt it for your country.”

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News data editor Holly K. Hacker contributed to this report.

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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 has dropped by , 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. a temporary extension of the enhanced subsidies in January. But that measure . Lawmakers are scrambling for an alternative after President Donald Trump an extension if a bill reaches his desk. On Jan. 15, the president released that includes creating savings accounts for people to pay their health costs — an idea Senate Republicans as an alternative to the subsidies.

A.C. Locklear, CEO of the , 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, will become uninsured in 2026 due to the higher costs.

Patients at the Oyate Health Center in Rapid City, South Dakota, are already reporting sky-high premium increases for ACA plans. CEO Jerilyn Church said it’s too soon to know how many will forgo coverage. But she said more uninsured patients would further strain the IHS Purchased/Referred Care program — with officials raising the bar for how sick patients must be to cover care outside of tribal health sites.

“There will be people that will not be able to get the care they need,” Church said, adding that could translate to “people losing their lives.”

Bighorn, the game warden on the Fort Peck Reservation, is among those still covered by the tribes’ insurance program. He has put it to use.

Soon after enrolling, Bighorn needed two hip replacements, surgeries that require off-reservation care and are ranked as low-priority procedures by the Indian Health Service. Bighorn said that in pre-surgery tests, specialists found the cause for his long-standing, dangerously high blood pressure. The diagnosis: untreated lifelong asthma and sleep apnea.

“I was a miserable man, tired all the time,” he said.

Without the tribe’s coverage, Bighorn may have eventually gotten those diagnoses but said it would have likely taken years to get help through the Indian Health Service. That would have meant getting much sicker before receiving care.

Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News correspondent Arielle Zionts contributed to this report.

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LODGE GRASS, Mont. — Brothers Lonny and Teyon Fritzler walked amid the tall grass and cottonwood trees surrounding their boarded-up childhood home near the Little Bighorn River and daydreamed about ways to rebuild.

The rolling prairie outside the single-story clapboard home is where Lonny learned from their grandfather how to break horses. It’s where Teyon learned from their grandmother how to harvest buffalo berries. It’s also where they watched their father get addicted to meth.

Teyon, now 34, began using the drug at 15 with their dad. Lonny, 41, started after college, which he said was partly due to the stress of caring for their grandfather with dementia. Their own addictions to meth persisted for years, outlasting the lives of both their father and grandfather.

It took leaving their home in Lodge Grass, a town of about 500 people on the Crow Indian Reservation, to recover. Here, methamphetamine use is widespread.

The brothers stayed with an aunt in Oklahoma as they learned to live without meth. Their family property has sat empty for years — the horse corral’s beams are broken and its roof caved in, the garage tilts, and the house needs extensive repairs. Such crumbling structures are common in this Native American community, hammered by the effects of meth addiction. Lonny said some homes in disrepair would cost too much to fix. It’s typical for multiple generations to crowd under one roof, sometimes for cultural reasons but also due to the area’s housing shortage.

“We have broken-down houses, a burnt one over here, a lot of houses that are not livable,” Lonny said as he described the few neighboring homes.

In Lodge Grass, an estimated 60% of the residents age 14 and older struggle with drug or alcohol addictions, according to a local survey contracted by the Mountain Shadow Association, a local, Native-led nonprofit. For many in the community, the buildings in disrepair are symbols of that struggle. But signs of renewal are emerging. In recent years, the town has torn down more than two dozen abandoned buildings. Now, for the first time in decades, new businesses are going up and have become new symbols — those of the town’s effort to recover from the effects of meth.

One of those new buildings, a day care center, arrived in October 2024. A parade of people followed the small, wooden building through town as it was delivered on the back of a truck. It replaced a formerly abandoned home that had tested positive for traces of meth.

“People were crying,” said Megkian Doyle, who heads the Mountain Shadow Association, which opened the center. “It was the first time that you could see new and tangible things that pulled into town.”

The nonprofit is also behind the town’s latest construction project: a place where families together can heal from addiction. The plan is to build an entire campus in town that provides mental health resources, housing for kids whose parents need treatment elsewhere, and housing for families working to live without drugs and alcohol.

Though the project is years away from completion, locals often stop by to watch the progress.

“There is a ground-level swell of hope that’s starting to come up around your ankles,” Doyle said.

Two of the builders on that project are Lonny and Teyon Fritzler. They see the work as a chance to help rebuild their community within the Apsáalooke Nation, also known as the Crow Tribe.

“When I got into construction work, I actually thought God was punishing me,” Lonny said. “But now, coming back, building these walls, I’m like, ‘Wow. This is ours now.’”

Meth ‘Never Left’

Meth use is a throughout the U.S. and a growing contributor to the nation’s . The drug had been devastating in Indian Country, that encompasses tribal jurisdictions and certain areas with Native American populations.

Native Americans face the in the U.S. compared with any other demographic group.

“Meth has never left our communities,” said A.C. Locklear, CEO of the , a nonprofit that works to improve health in Indian Country.

Many reservations are in rural areas, which have of meth use compared with cities. As a group, Native Americans face high rates of poverty, chronic disease, and mental illness — all are . These conditions are rooted in , a byproduct of colonization. Meanwhile, the Indian Health Service, which provides health care to Native Americans, has been chronically underfunded. Cutbacks under the Trump administration have shrunk health programs nationwide.

LeeAnn Bruised Head, a recently retired public health adviser with the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, said that despite the challenges, tribal nations have developed strong survival skills drawing from their traditions. For example, Crow people have held onto their nation’s language; neighbors are often family, or considered such; and many tribal members rely on their clans to mentor children, who eventually become mentors themselves for the next generation.

“The strength here, the support here,” said Bruised Head, who is part of the Crow Tribe. “You can’t get that anywhere else.”

Signs of Rebuilding

On a fall day, Quincy Dabney greeted people arriving for lunch at the Lodge Grass drop-in center. The center recently opened in a former church as a place where people can come for help to stay sober or for a free meal. Dabney volunteers at the center. He’s also the town’s mayor.

Dabney helped organize community cleanup days starting in 2017, during which people picked up trash in yards and alongside roads. The focus eventually shifted to tearing down empty, condemned houses, which Dabney said had become spots to sell, distribute, and use meth, often during the day as children played nearby.

“There was nothing stopping it here,” Dabney said.

The problem hasn’t disappeared, though. In 2024, officials broke up a multistate based on the Crow reservation that distributed drugs to other Montana reservations. It was one example of how drug traffickers as sales and distribution hubs.

A few blocks from where Dabney spoke stood the remains of a stone building where someone had spray-painted “Stop Meth” on its roofless walls. Still, there are signs of change, he said.

Dabney pointed across the street to a field where a trailer had sat empty for years before the town removed it. The town was halfway through tearing down another home in disrepair on the next block. Another house on the same street was being cleaned up for an incoming renter: a new mental health worker at the drop-in center.

Just down the road, work was underway on the new campus for addiction recovery, called Kaala’s Village. Kaala means “grandmother” in Crow.

The site’s first building going up is a therapeutic foster home. Plans include housing to gradually reunite families, a community garden, and a place to hold ceremonies. Doyle said the goal is that, eventually, residents can help build their own small homes, working with experienced builders trained to provide mental health support.

She said one of the most important aspects of this work “is that we finish it.”

Tribal citizens and organizations have said the political chaos of Trump’s first year back in office shows the problem with relying on federal programs. It underscores the need for more grassroots efforts, like what’s unfolding in Lodge Grass. But a reliable system to fund those efforts still doesn’t exist. Last year’s federal grant and program cuts also fueled competition for philanthropic dollars.

Kaala’s Village is expected to cost $5 million. The association is building in phases as money comes in. Doyle said the group hopes to open the foster home by spring, and family housing the following year.

The site is a few minutes’ drive from Lonny and Teyon’s childhood home. In addition to building the new facility’s walls, they’re getting training to offer mental health support. Eventually, they hope to work alongside people who come home to Kaala’s Village.

As for their own home, they hope to restore it — one room at a time.

“Just piece by piece,” Lonny said. “We’ve got to do something. We’ve got these young ones watching.”

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .

Permanent changes to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program are coming regardless of the outcome of at least two federal lawsuits that seek to prevent the government from cutting off November SNAP benefits. The lawsuits challenge the Trump administration’s refusal to release emergency funds to keep the program operating during the government shutdown.

A federal judge in Rhode Island ordered the government to use those funds to keep SNAP going. A Massachusetts judge in a separate lawsuit also said the government must use its food aid contingency funds to pay for SNAP, but gave the Trump administration until Nov. 3 to come up with a plan.

Amid that uncertainty, food banks across the U.S. braced for a surge in demand, with the possibility that millions of people will be cut off from the food program that helps them buy groceries.

On Oct. 28, a vanload of SpaghettiOs, tuna, and other groceries arrived at Gateway Food Pantry in Arnold, Missouri. It may be Gateway’s last shipment for a while. The food pantry south of St. Louis largely serves families with school-age children, but it has already exhausted its yearly food budget because of the surge in demand, said Executive Director Patrick McKelvey.

New Disabled South, a Georgia-based nonprofit that advocates for people with disabilities, announced that it was offering one-time payments of $100 to $250 to individuals and families who were expected to lose SNAP benefits in the 14 states it serves.

Less than 48 hours later, the nonprofit had received more than 16,000 requests totaling $3.6 million, largely from families, far more than the organization had funding for.

“It’s unreal,” co-founder Dom Kelly said.

The threat of a SNAP funding lapse is a preview of what’s to come when changes to the program that were included in the One Big Beautiful Bill Act that President Donald Trump signed in July take effect.

The domestic tax-and-spending law cuts $187 billion within the next decade from SNAP. That’s a nearly 20% decrease from current funding levels, according to the Congressional Budget Office.

The new rules shift many food and administrative costs to states, which may lead some to consider withdrawing from the program, which helped about 42 million people buy groceries last year. Separate from the new law, the administration is also pushing states to limit SNAP purchases by barring such things as candy and soda.

All that “puts us in uncharted territory for SNAP,” said Cindy Long, a former deputy undersecretary at the Department of Agriculture who is now a national adviser at the law firm Manatt, Phelps & Phillips.

The country’s first food stamps were issued at the end of the Great Depression, when the poverty-stricken population couldn’t afford farmers’ products. Today, instead of stamps, recipients use debit cards. But the program still buoys farmers and food retailers and prevents hunger during economic downturns.

The CBO estimates that will lose food assistance as a result of in the budget law, including applying work requirements to more people and shifting more costs to states. Trump administration leaders have backed the changes as a way to limit waste, to , and to .

This is the biggest cut to SNAP in its history, and it is coming against the backdrop of rising food prices and a fragile labor market.

The exact toll of the cuts will be difficult to measure, because the Trump administration that measures food insecurity.

Here are five big changes that are coming to SNAP and what they mean for Americans’ health:

1. Want food benefits? They will be harder to get.

Under the new law, people will have to file more paperwork to access SNAP benefits.

Many recipients are already required to work, volunteer, or participate in other eligible activities for 80 hours a month to get money on their benefit cards. The new law to previously exempted groups, including homeless people, veterans, and young people who were in foster care when they turned 18. The expanded work requirements also apply to parents with children 14 or older and adults ages 55 to 64.

, if recipients fail to document each month that they meet the requirements, they will be limited to three months of SNAP benefits in a .

“That is draconian,” said Elaine Waxman, a senior fellow at the Urban Institute, a nonprofit research group. About 1 in 8 adults reported having lost SNAP benefits because they had problems filing their paperwork, according to .

Certain refugees, asylum-seekers, and other lawful immigrants are cut out of SNAP entirely under the new law.

2. States will have to chip in more money and resources.

The federal law drastically increases what each state will have to pay to keep the program.

Until now, states have needed to pay for only half the administrative costs and none of the food costs, with the rest covered by the federal government.

Under the new law, states are on the hook for 75% of the administrative costs and must cover a portion of the food costs. That amounts to an estimated median cost increase for states of more than 200%, according to by the Georgetown Center on Poverty and Inequality.

A Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News analysis shows that a single funding shift related to the cost of food could put states on the hook for an additional $11 billion.

All states participate in the SNAP program, but they could opt out. In June, nearly wrote to congressional leaders warning that some states wouldn’t be able to come up with the money to continue the program.

“If states are forced to end their SNAP programs, hunger and poverty will increase, children and adults will get sicker, grocery stores in rural areas will struggle to stay open, people in agriculture and the food industry will lose jobs, and state and local economies will suffer,” the governors wrote.

3. Will the changes lead to more healthy eating?

The Trump administration, through its “Make America Healthy Again” platform, has made healthy eating a priority.

Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has championed the restrictions on soda and candy purchases within the food aid program. To date, to limit what people can buy with SNAP dollars.

Federal officials previously blocked such restrictions, because they were difficult for states and stores to implement and they boost stigma around SNAP, according to . In 2018, the first Trump administration to ban sugar-sweetened drinks and candy.

A store may decide that hassle isn’t worth participating in the program and drop out of it, leaving SNAP recipients fewer places to shop.

People who receive SNAP are no more likely to buy sweets or salty snacks than people who shop without the benefits, . Research shows that encouraging healthy food choices is than regulating purchases.

When people have less money to spend on food, they often resort to cheaper, unhealthier alternatives that keep them sated longer rather than paying for more expensive food that is healthy and fresh but quick to perish.

4. How will SNAP cuts affect health?

Advocacy organizations working to end hunger in the nation say the cuts will have long-term health effects.

Research has found that kids in households with limited access to food to have a mental disorder. Similarly, food insecurity is linked to .

Working-age people with food insecurity to experience chronic disease. That high blood pressure, arthritis, diabetes, asthma, and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.

Those health issues come with costs for individuals. Low-income adults who aren’t on SNAP more a year on health care than those who are.

lived in households with limited or uncertain access to food in 2023.

5. What does this mean for the nation’s food supply chain?

SNAP spending directly boosts grocery stores, their suppliers, and the transportation and farming industries. Additionally, when low-income households have help accessing food, they’re more likely to spend money on other needs, such as prescriptions or car repairs. All that means that every dollar spent through SNAP generates at least $1.50 in economic activity, .

A report by associations representing convenience stores, grocers, and the food industry estimated it to comply with the new SNAP restrictions.

Advocates warn stores may pass the costs on to shoppers, or they may close.

This article first appeared on Ñî¹óåú´«Ã½Ò•îl Health News and is republished here under a .