Sen. Dan Sullivan, who is also a colonel in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserves, decided to burn off some Christmas calories by going for a run on a brisk Fairbanks day, an experience which he describes in this video as “magic”.
Law Department alleges $9 million Medicaid fraud over addiction testing
Criminal charges have been filed against Dr. John Zipperer, Jr. MD and his corporation Zipperer Medical Group for fraud against the state Medicaid program.
The State Department of Law alleges that Dr. Zipperer filed millions of dollars worth of claims for fraudulent laboratory urine tests performed from August of 2013 to August of 2015 and that his company, ZMG, performed over one million medically unnecessary laboratory tests on patients’ samples at a Tennessee lab he owned, billing Medicaid for those tests.
Zipperer practices “interventional pain” medicine. He is a graduate of Medical College of Georgia School of Medicine and specializes in pain and addiction treatment.
He opened a clinic in Wasilla in 2012 and expanded clinics across the state in Anchorage, Eagle River, and Fairbanks. In 2013, he opened a testing facility in Tennessee.
The State alleges ZMG would see patients as often as once every three day and would often require them to submit urine samples for testing, which would be done at the lab he owned.
The State says Zipperer would order dozens of unnecessary and duplicative tests on each urine sample and then bill Medicaid, private insurance companies, or cash-paying patients personally, at rates ranging from $3,000-$8,000 per urine sample.
The red flag came after Zipperer was reimbursed about $9 million for laboratory testing between August 2013 and September 2015, an amount 10 times greater than the combined total of all other providers in the Alaska Medicaid system for laboratory test codes billed during the time period, according to the Law Department.
The case triggered a formal state audit review in 2018. Throughout 2019, the state says Zipperer “failed to respond to repeated requests for supporting documentation for the millions of dollars worth of claims he submitted in response to agency requests. This refusal itself is a criminal offense under Alaska law.”
In 2015, Zipperer closed his methadone clinic in Wasilla after saying he was unable to adequately staff the clinic, in part because of an FBI investigation into the clinic practices. Methadone is a replacement to narcotics that suppresses withdrawal symptoms and helps wean people off of opioids. Treatment with methadone can last for years.
The charging document may be found on the State of Alaska, Medicaid Fraud Control Unit.
The charges against Zipperer carry a possible sentence of up to 10 years in prison, a fine of up to $100,000 and restitution to the State of Alaska Medicaid program. The charges of medical assistance fraud against the corporation carry a possible maximum sentence of up to $5 million, and a potential restitution order.
Any person who may have information about Dr. Zipperer or facts related to this case are encouraged to contact the State of Alaska, Medicaid Fraud Control Unit at (907) 269-6279.
Alaska job count rises, while unemployment is lowest ever
IS THE WALKER RECESSION OVER?
Alaska’s employment rose by 1,110 jobs from November 2018 to 2019, and the unemployment rate fell to 6.1 percent, the lowest in history since unemployment was first measured in the 1970s.
In April of 2018, employment was down by 1,200 over the previous April. By November of 2018, overall employment was down 1,300 jobs. During the recession, the state lost an estimated 12,000 jobs since late 2015, shortly after Gov. Bill Walker came into office and started destabilizing the oil and gas sector.
Oil and gas sector has gained back the most jobs (400) this year, the first year of the Dunleavy Administration. Tourism was up by 300 jobs and health care jobs also gained 300. Retail lost 200 jobs and information technology jobs are down by 100.
According to the Department of Labor, the State has shed 600 state government jobs, primarily due to budget cuts at the University of Alaska. In local governments, the job count stayed flat, and the federal workforce increased by 100, in part because the U.S. Census Bureau has been hiring short-term workers for the 2020 Census. These are temporary jobs that will be in the “loss” category after the Census.
The lowest unemployment rate in the state was in government-rich Juneau, 4.4 percent, just above the national unemployment rate of 3.7 percent.
Sitka has a 4.6 percent unemployment rate and Anchorage has 4.8 percent unemployed.
Alaskans looking for work in the summer might try Skagway and Denali Boroughs, where tourism jobs are plentiful and in June and July the unemployment rates drop below the national average. By November these areas have some of the highest unemployment, 16.9 percent and 18.2 parent respectively.
Eight other areas also exceed 10 percent: Kusilvak Census Area, Bristol Bay Borough, Bethel Census Area, Northwest Arctic Borough, Yukon-Koyukuk Census Area, Hoonah-Angoon Census Area, Haines Borough and the Valdez-Cordova Census Area.
The challenge for Alaska job creators is whether former Gov. Bill Walker’s law partner Robin Brena will keep the oil and gas investments on the sideline, while the Brena oil tax hike is pending as a ballot initiative. Walker, a foe of the SB 21 legislation that stabilized taxes, joined forces with Brena after he left office, although he is not openly involved with the oil tax increase initiative called “Our Fair Share.”
‘Alaska PD’ premieres Jan. 1
SHOW FEATURES FAIRBANKS, KOTZEBUE, KODIAK, PETERSBURG
“Alaska PD,” a new show on the A&E Network, will bring the challenges of Last Frontier of justice to the rest of America on New Year’s Day, when “the line between civilization and lawlessness can be razor thin,” according to the A&E promotion.
The show will document some of short-handed police departments around the state, where local forces “must turn to officers from the Lower 48 to fighting a soaring crime rate.” Fairbanks, Kodiak, Kotzebue, and Petersburg are featured in the series.
“Alaska PD” premieres Jan. 1 at 10 pm Eastern Time. The series will then move to its regular time slot on Thursdays at 9 pm.
“They face numerous dangers found only in Alaska, not just from people who want to be free from the rules of society, but also from encounters with predatory animals roaming through town and sub-zero conditions that can be deadly and unrelenting,” A&E wrote. ” In a state where guns are carried as part of everyday life, officers often have to protect an entire town by themselves while enforcing laws many are unwilling to follow.”
[Read: Pirate has returned to Fairbanks,and some are concerned]
In Kodiak, a focus will be on nuisance bears, and in rural Kotzebue there is a federally declared law enforcement emergency and the U.S. Department of Justice is directing millions of dollars to bring law and order to violence-ridden villages.
While Kotzebue had a higher violent crime rate than any other Alaska community in 2018, Petersburg has a crime rate that is 1.5 times lower than the national average. But there are always Vikings to contend with.
The first episode features newcomer police officer Jamie Ramos of Virginia, who becomes Kodiak’s only female cop and quickly has her first encounter with a Kodiak brown bear. The episode also features Fairbanks Officer Gerrit Butler, a former mixed martial arts professional, who brings down a suspect who also knows a bit about martial arts.
[Watch the action-packed promotional video at this A&E link]
The show is following the successes of other Alaska-based reality series, such as “Alaska State Troopers,” which gained national popularity as a documentary series on Alaska the National Geographic Channel in 2009. “Gold Rush,” “Deadliest Catch,” “Alaska Bush People,” and “Men in Trees,” are others that have focused on the quirks and quacks encountered in Alaska.
“Alaska PD” is produced by Engel Entertainment and Noble Savages for A&E Network.
Watch video: Christmas party at Governor’s House
This short video of the Open House at the Governor’s House in Juneau on Dec. 10 says it all, and it’s full of Christmas goodwill:
The first open house was held 106 years ago by Territorial Governor Walter Eli Clark and his family. He invited the community to visit the Governor’s House on New Year’s Day 1913, the first New Year’s after the house had been completed in 2012.
It’s an annual tradition has been held every year since, with the exception of two years during World War II.
More than 15,000 cookies were prepared for the event, and more than 100 pounds of fudge and chocolate candies were served. Members of the governor’s cabinet couriered hot apple cider and holiday treats to guests waiting in line outside the residence, while entertainers from local community and school groups performed.
Christmas story of Grace
A BABY FIGHTS FOR HER LIFE, AND A FAMILY IS BORN
By BOB LACHER
The past is the past. What a cruel reality for a mother of eight children who had been unable or unwilling to keep any of them.
On this late September morning in 2017, long before the sun would rise, addicted to methamphetamine and 32 weeks pregnant, she could think of nothing beyond filling a syringe with a caustic mix of chemicals that she would soon push into her vein.
The past is the past, she must have thought, knowing her history would never be rewritten, her story would never be remade, her life would never be reimagined. For her, life at its end, when it came, would be as ugly and reckless and shot through with despair as all of it had been. What was the point, she thought to herself; hope was for dreamers. Somewhere within that act of surrendering must have been the place where every bit of what makes us human was washed away.
The needle had barely delivered the drug, the familiar rush just beginning to inflict its euphoric destruction to mind, body and womb when rhythmic contractions signaled an induced labor.
She knew the feeling all too well by then, and dreaded the pain that would disrupt her morning. Soon her contractions rapidly merged into one long, continuous, dull ache that threatened to consume her.
A second syringe seemed a good idea. This time it would be heroin. As the mother recounted her story, she believed the baby was unlikely to survive so premature, especially without medical care…and maybe that would be all the easier in the end. Maybe the heroin would allow her to feel nothing of it. She could not remember who among her friends prepared the heroin and eased it into her arm.
The labor of methamphetamine addicted mothers is often induced by a fresh dose of the drug. In an extremely fast process known as “precipitous labor” the baby came quickly. When it did, the mother faced more choices than just seeking medical care or allowing her child to die. Warrants for her arrest for past crimes were active. In her own words, she feared prison time if the authorities came looking around. Losing a baby was the easier choice.
She birthed in a bathtub at a friend’s house, a house frequented by other addicts and those who prey on them. Someone tied off the umbilical cord with string and helped wrap the baby girl in some clothing. The mother held the tiny, unresponsive package and waited.
Hour after hour passed. The baby was struggling to survive, its breathing shallow and irregular. The apnea was a result of undeveloped lungs, the absence of any intervention to clear them, and a bloodstream laced with marijuana, opiates, methadone, amphetamines, cocaine, and benzodiazepines.
At some point during the day the husband arrived at the house. He was not the baby’s father but no one would know this until much later.
The story gets less sure here, and it’s uncertain who among them, as the evening wore on, was advocating for life and some measure of medical intervention. An ambulance coming, with all those people in uniforms asking names and writing them down, was out of the question. At some point arguing ensued. Those pushing for medical care prevailed.
Just after 10 pm a taxi arrived at the hospital carrying the husband, one of his friends, and a small package. From all accounts the ER was brimming with activity. The code called out… “Pediatric emergency” was anything but typical. A premature newborn brought in hours after birth is an unusual occurrence.
Still blue and having great difficulty breathing, the four-pound, two-ounce greyish blue bundle of weakly heaving humanity was given every ounce of the emergency room staff’s cool-headed expertise. The tiny baby girl was stabilized. She was given a fighting chance to make of it what she could.
The State of Alaska’s Office of Children’s Services was alerted and took custody that very day. She belonged to all of us now.
The week that followed was a tough one. Battling withdrawals of multiple drugs is especially challenging for premature newborns. In a struggle for life, the baby would lose 15 percent of her body weight, dropping to three pounds, eight ounces before real recovery began.
That same week a call went out from the OCS to an Anchorage couple that had for some time been waiting for an adoption opportunity. They were invited to come meet the baby girl, on the books as patient number 175, a baby girl that was, for all intents and purposes, a “hospital surrender,” a phrase that doesn’t fit anywhere in the mind’s quick process of making sense of strings of words.
The couple visited the hospital. Covered in dark hair from head to toe as a result of prematurity, the blue in her face was gone, replaced now by a life affirming blush. She had eyelashes that could grace the cover of a glamor magazine and they outlined her exceptionally large brown eyes in a storybook perfect way. The young couple immediately fell in love. Over the next few weeks they would visit the baby many times in the hospital. They quietly named her Isabelle Grace but kept this to themselves. They went home and started making a room for their first child. For the first time in their lives they talked about “family” plans.
The road to adoption is often long and complex, an emotional maze that can only be navigated by leading with your heart. During the next two years of foster parenting by the young couple, the biological mother was given several chances to kick her addictions and regain control of her child, but a severe and crippling drug overdose ended all of that. The next sharp curve in the road was the husband discovering through DNA testing that he was not the father.
The State of Alaska undertook a months-long search for the biological father, then more DNA testing, then a new father was confirmed, this time with interested grandparents and a drug habit of his own, and more chances for him to get clean and get it all right, and more hearings and calendars littered with promises broken and deadlines missed.
Each time, each new gut-wrenching turn, was another chance to lose the baby back into the vice infested abyss from which she had just barely emerged.
Steadily through the storms the couple kept their focus on the only thing that mattered. Isabelle Grace would have her day in court. It would be a day of certainty in a process that had been remarkable in its uncertainty.
It didn’t matter that the morning of Dec. 4, 2019 in Palmer was tightly bound with fog so dense you couldn’t see three city blocks ahead. The pall of greyness would suppress nothing of what was about to happen in Court Room 6. Though all courtrooms in Alaska see their share of adoptions, only Palmer has an official “Adoption Day,” a day dedicated to the business of giving official legal status to minors and parents who ask for it.
On this still, cold December morning, the adoptions of 43 children would be attended to by four judges in four courtrooms. In hearings that are often back to back, new parents are peppered with questions about what it means to take on responsibilities that will surely change their lives.
The young couple seemed to hold their own during their turn in front of Judge Stohler, maintaining at least a veneer of composure as a list of questions put to them by their legal counsel examined the weightiness of the promises being made and to whom, words that would frame a lifetime of commitment to this child who would finally, and forever, be named Isabelle Grace.
All emotions were on display, the sum of two long years where the couple had put their hearts in the hands of others and trusted that their souls would not be crushed. In the long list of questions asked of the couple, one in particular seemed to move the ground beneath them: “…have bonds of love and affection formed between you and she, does she look toward the two of you as her parents or the people who will be taking care of her from here on out?”
With tears streaming down the new mother’s face and her husband appearing not much better, Isabelle was assured by her new parents that a life that began in such darkness and peril could be full of hope.
That day in Courtroom 6 they made promises to Isabelle that would last her lifetime, promises that the story of her life would be remade and reimagined, and that her past would never be her future.
Bob Lacher, a Palmer author, shares his thoughts about his new granddaughter, Isabelle Grace. He is the author of Alaska Raw, a true-adventure book, the first chapter of which ran as a series in Must Read Alaska earlier this year. The book is available at local bookstores, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon.