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Minneapolis doctors warn of lasting medical effects, even after ICE agents leave

Medical practitioners gather to assess the day's needs at a medical clinic in Minneapolis on Jan. 26.
Zaydee Sanchez for NPR
Medical practitioners gather to assess the day's needs at a medical clinic in Minneapolis on Jan. 26.

For the last few months Minneapolis has been experiencing a historic immigration enforcement crackdown, which has even spread to medical facilities. Workers at one hospital in Minneapolis say ICE officers have restrained patients and lingered around the facility demanding proof of citizenship from people.

It has forced many patients without legal status and their health care providers to set up alternate forms of care.

"It really worries me that fear is causing people not to access health care," one Minneapolis doctor told NPR on the condition that he remain anonymous to protect his patients. "I get really concerned that people ignore acute symptoms, things that they really should be coming in for. Breathing problems, bad abdominal pain."

He's worked in the city for more than two decades and says he's never seen anything like the current immigration crackdown and how it is affecting patients. In addition to his regular practice, he supervises a licensed clinic in a neighborhood that has been the target of ICE operations. He says in the last month or so, he's heard of patients staying home and away from care. The doctor says it's not just medical emergencies that worry him. It's "people missing the management of their chronic conditions. Things like diabetes going untreated for months is going to lead to complications."

A doctor who wished to remain anonymous to protect the safety of his patients provides medical services to the Minneapolis community during the immigration crackdown on Jan. 26.
Zaydee Sanchez for NPR /
A doctor who wished to remain anonymous to protect the safety of his patients provides medical services to the Minneapolis community during the immigration crackdown on Jan. 26.

NPR visited the neighborhood clinic he supervises on the condition that we keep the location and the names of patients and volunteers to varying degrees anonymous, because they fear federal immigration agents will target them. The clinic is located in an immigrant neighborhood, in the basement of a non-medical building. The day we visit, it's being run by some 50 volunteer doctors, nurses and pharmacists.

Upon entering the building, a young petite woman named Lydia welcomes us. She acts as a cross between a greeter and a sort of a guard. She explains that her job, as she keeps an eye out the window, is "to identify who people are, and why they're coming in. Just to make sure they're patients, and they're not here from ICE or the police."

In the event she spots a federal immigration agent, the protocol is to ask for a judicial warrant and alert her colleagues who are busy working in the basement turned clinic.

A volunteer watches the front door of the clinic amid the immigration crackdown in Minneapolis on Jan. 26.
Zaydee Sanchez for NPR /
A volunteer watches the front door of the clinic amid the immigration crackdown in Minneapolis on Jan. 26.
A medical practitioner stands in a Minneapolis clinic on Jan. 26.
Zaydee Sanchez for NPR /
A medical practitioner stands in a Minneapolis clinic on Jan. 26.

Half a dozen people are waiting downstairs to be called into one of the many consultation rooms. One man, a Venezuelan immigrant, tells NPR he hasn't been feeling well after getting injured in an accident at work. He says it took a lot for him to come out here today even though he is a legal permanent resident.

"I'm scared," he says, "even though I am a legal immigrant, I'm scared they [ICE agents] won't believe me. I'm scared I'll show them my papers, and they'll tell me it's not enough."

The clinic has gone so far as to set up a system for volunteers to pick up and deliver prescriptions for patients who don't feel safe going out. But the supervising doctor says he worries even that is not enough. He's concerned some are still too afraid to ask for deliveries. "I went into medicine to help and heal. And I can't do that, because people are too scared to speak up. And it's only a matter of time before we really see this catching up to us."

As he speaks, he looks over his diverse team of volunteers. There are at least three languages being spoken here. The team is a reflection of the health care industry in America- in the U.S., about one in six hospital workers are immigrants, and over a quarter of hospital physicians are foreign-born.

A close-up of a medical volunteer's stethoscope; a medical professional takes notes during a staff meeting at a clinic in Minneapolis.
Zaydee Sanchez for NPR /
A close-up of a medical volunteer's stethoscope; a medical professional takes notes during a staff meeting at a clinic in Minneapolis.

Pablo, a medical student who volunteers here, is originally from Central America. He's a community liaison, involved with planning security for both volunteers and patients. In addition to the guard out front, the clinic has developed a buddy system: no volunteer walks to or from the parking lot alone. They've also designated a secure room, Pablo says, for patients and doctors to shelter in place if there is an immigration raid. "In the worst case scenario, if we have to add physical barriers, [we] add as many as we can. It's a little bit jarring, but you don't really have that much time to stop and think about it. It's just the reality of where we are."

On Thursday Border Czar Tom Homan announced the immigration operation in Minneapolis will come to an end.

"As a result of our efforts here Minnesota is now less of a sanctuary state for criminals," Homan said at a news conference. "I have proposed and President Trump has concurred, that this surge operation conclude."

But doctors at this clinic say they worry the effects of the last two months will linger long after federal agents leave town.

Copyright 2026 NPR

Jasmine Garsd is an Argentine-American journalist living in New York. She is currently NPR's Criminal Justice correspondent and the host of The Last Cup. She started her career as the co-host of Alt.Latino, an NPR show about Latin music. Throughout her reporting career she's focused extensively on women's issues and immigrant communities in America. She's currently writing a book of stories about women she's met throughout her travels.