AN ILL WIND

Business, North Carolina, Jun 01, 2000 by Martin, Edward

Two months. That's all it took to merge the parent companies of Forsyth Medical Center in Winston-Salem and Presbyterian Hospital in Charlotte. The auditors declared their books sterile as mules, papers were signed, and the billion-dollar deal closed July 1, 1997, three months ahead of schedule.

"No skeletons fell out of the closet," an enthusiastic Paul Wiles noted. He stepped up from Winston-Salem-based Carolina Medicorp Inc.'s top position to become the first president and chief executive of Novant Health Inc., with a work force of 12,000 and service area covering 2.2 million people.

Optimism soared. The new company had big plans. There was talk of adding 30 hospitals to its eighthospital network, along with scores of medical practices, nursing homes and clinics. Naturally, there would be economies of scale - and vertical integration. Hire the doctor who treats the patient who is insured by the system's own health plan. The doctor admits the patient to the system's hospital. If the patient is too old or too sick to go home, the system puts him in its extendedcare center. When Novant burst on the scene, the future of health care had arrived. Or so it seemed.

Three years later, Novant, wracked by management departures, financial shortfalls and unrealized dreams of expansion, struggles less to remake medicine than to right itself. Some of its troubles are self-inflicted, stemming from a hasty merger and a tendency to underestimate the competition and overestimate its own strength. But luck, mostly bad, has played a hand.

Sixteen days after the deal closed, on a muggy Thursday morning in the farming crossroads of Supply, southwest of Wilmington, an unmarked sedan pulled up to Columbia Brunswick Hospital. The driver and another man got out and walked into the small, 60-bed hospital. "FBI," one said. "We have search warrants for your records." A similar scene was unfolding at Columbia Davis Medical Center in Statesville.

The hospitals were among three dozen owned by Tennessee-based Columbia/HCA Healthcare Corp. that were raided that day, nationwide. Hearing the news which had nothing to do with Novant - Wiles wondered how far up the Columbia/HCA executive ladder the billing-fraud investigation would go. When it reached the top, his musings turned to misgivings. "The Columbia/HCA juggernaut had been acquiring every hospital in sight," says Wiles, who had reasoned that it would scare vulnerable Tar Heel hospitals straight into Novant's arms. "Suddenly hospitals began saying, 'We don't have to worry about Columbia anymore. The pressure's off, so why merge?' "

Novant was unprepared for the merger chill, but its faltering acquisition strategy would prove to be only the initial crack in the dam. Congress passed a balancedbudget act that will eventually cost hospitals $335 billion in Medicare-reimbursement cuts. The tab for Novant is $30 million a year and growing, since cuts are backloaded to increase annually through 2004. "It's only going to get worse," Wiles says. And vertical integration stumbled. Almost universally, hospitals have found that doctors cost more than they bring in - at Novant, the red ink amounts to $40 million a year for the 300 physicians it employs.

Some problems go back to before Novant was created. It turned out that Presbyterian's closet rattled with skeletons, including an estimated $20 million in overdue bills, some 10 years behind. Wiles denies Presbyterian officials deliberately concealed them, but he concedes that auditors should have known.

Insiders, both former and current, say Presbyterian had relied too heavily on its reputation as Charlotte's hospital of choice. It had also given away tens of millions of dollars in weakly negotiated managed-care deals. "We spent $1.7 million in the first year trying to collect bad debt," says a former Novant executive, who adds that even if the extent of Presbyterian's woes had been known, Wiles would have pushed ahead anyway. "In the end, it didn't matter. The Triad is a slow, mature market, and Novant had to have Charlotte's growth."

By early 1998, as the scope of the problems became apparent, the finger pointing began. So did an exodus of top Presbyterian Healthcare System executives. That has generated grumbling in Charlotte that Carolina Medicorp staged a coup, not a merger. Wiles replies that virtually all top management has turned over - not just Presbyterian's.

But it is Presbyterian that is under scrutiny. When President and CEO Paul Betzold resigned four months after the merger, citing the strains of competition, Wiles replaced him with Tom Revels, who ran NorthEast Medical Center in nearby Concord. In February, Revels abruptly resigned. He declined to be interviewed, but other Novant and Presbyterian officials say he had alienated staff members and physicians through budget cuts and layoffs, including more than 140 employees in 1999. Charlotte's financial performance continued to lag the Triad's. Not long before Revels' departure, Wiles had opened a small office near the Presbyterian complex, rented an apartment and begun spending two or three days a week in Charlotte, attempting to pump up the deflated Presbyterian, He's now acting president of Presbyterian, in addition to his Novant titles.