Patrick Haydel-05/26/2025-If You’re in Private Practice, Don’t Learn the Law This Way

Journal Entry

I’m writing this from federal prison. That’s not something I ever imagined saying, especially not after decades in healthcare. But I need to say it plainly because this message is for people like I used to be—independent healthcare providers, especially those in private chiropractic or DME settings, who think compliance is something you hire out. It’s not. It never was.

I’m not writing this as a compliance expert. I’m writing as someone who trusted instinct over statute. I believed that if I worked hard, treated my patients well, and relied on experienced business partners, I was protected. I was wrong. And that mistake cost me everything.

For years, I assumed compliance was about forms and audits. I checked boxes, kept files, and leaned on the belief that if Medicare kept paying and we passed inspections, then all must be in order. When marketers offered a turnkey referral system using telemedicine, I saw efficiency, not exposure. I convinced myself it was legitimate because, frankly, it worked. Until it didn’t.

Looking back, I told myself all the same things I’ve since heard from others who got caught up in similar schemes:

“Everyone does it this way.” “They’re just marketers. It’s their job to get patients.” “If it passes audit, it must be fine.”

But none of that mattered when it came time to account for my conduct. The law doesn’t care how common a practice is. It cares whether it’s legal. I paid for referrals. That’s a kickback. And kickbacks are a felony.

They didn’t have my medical license. They didn’t sign the Medicare contracts. They didn’t certify the claims. I did.

Small practice can feel like insulation from risk, but it often makes us more vulnerable. We’re tired. Reimbursements decline. We lean on people we’ve known for years. That’s how I ended up in a conspiracy involving cousins and high school classmates. We passed over eighty audits. We had A-ratings. None of that shielded me.

Since coming into custody, I’ve tried to do something constructive with the time. I worked with the Prison Professors Charitable Corporation to develop and record a course on entrepreneurship for incarcerated individuals. I talk about the realities of running a business—and the legal obligations you can’t afford to misunderstand or outsource. I’ve also spoken with men inside who ran medical clinics, therapy services, even hospice programs—many of them never fully grasped the legal lines they crossed until it was too late. We talk frankly about what we missed, what we ignored, and what it cost. Those conversations sharpen the urgency of this message. I use my story to warn others: shortcuts become sentences.

I teach that compliance is not a paperwork burden. It’s a mindset. A discipline. You cannot delegate it. If you’re signing claims, you are responsible. No marketer, no consultant, no cousin can carry that weight for you.

For me, the deepest regret isn’t just the prison time. It’s knowing I betrayed a public trust. Medicare wasn’t just a payer. It was a covenant—a promise between the government and people like my patients, many of whom I’d treated for decades. My father flew to Grand Isle to treat patients for free. I saw what real service looked like. And then I forgot it when things got complicated.

Medicare has its flaws. I won’t pretend otherwise. But no loophole, no reimbursement squeeze, no policy error justifies what I did. When you accept that system’s funds, you accept its rules. If you break those rules, you’re not a victim of bureaucracy. You’re a violator of trust.

If I could go back, I’d tell myself three things:

Read every law tied to your reimbursement. Don’t treat third-party compliance as a firewall. And never mistake momentum for legitimacy. Just because business is booming doesn’t mean it’s lawful.

If you think compliance is someone else’s job, you’re setting yourself up for federal sentencing guidelines to teach you otherwise.

What’s next for me is simple. I want to keep teaching what I’ve learned the hardest way possible. I want to help other providers, especially those early in their careers, understand what’s truly at stake. And if I can keep one person from making the same mistake, maybe this loss can mean something.

If you’re a provider reading this, and you’re unsure about something in your billing or marketing model, stop and ask. Read the law. Consult real legal counsel. Don’t rely on what others are doing. And above all, don’t stay silent when something feels off. That silence cost me everything.