Rochester PA Jeffrey Leathersich Cops Plea in Oxycodone Scheme

Jeffrey C. Leathersich, 51, of Lima, NY, is done playing doctor with controlled substances. The Rochester-based physician assistant was sentenced to three years of probation, including six months of home detention and 100 hours of court-ordered community service, after admitting to dispensing oxycodone outside the bounds of medical practice. U.S. District Judge Elizabeth A. Wolford handed down the sentence following Leathersich’s conviction on federal charges tied to a years-long opioid handout scheme disguised as medical care.

Between October 2013 and March 2016, Leathersich held a valid New York State license as a Registered Physician Assistant and maintained a DEA Certificate of Registration, allowing him to prescribe Schedule II drugs like oxycodone through his work at the New Genesis Center for Medical Weight Loss and Cosmetic Medicine on Monroe Avenue. But prosecutors say he abused that power. Assistant U.S. Attorney Frank H. Sherman, who prosecuted the case, laid bare a pattern of prescription padding—drugs handed out not for medical need, but for personal connections.

From October 2013 to December 2015, Leathersich maintained a social relationship with a patient identified only as Patient A. During that stretch, he issued 16 oxycodone prescriptions—nearly 30 grams of the potent opioid—outside any legitimate medical framework. Then, between July 2015 and March 2016, he turned to Patient B, doling out nine more prescriptions totaling approximately 26 grams, again with no medical justification. Oxycodone, a Schedule II narcotic, carries a high risk of addiction and is strictly regulated for a reason—Leathersich treated it like party favors.

The case unraveled under a focused investigation by the Drug Enforcement Administration’s New York Field Division, led by Special Agent in Charge James J. Hunt. DEA agents combed through prescription records, patient histories, and personal ties that turned a medical office into a pipeline for opioids. What they found wasn’t treatment—it was trafficking under the thin veneer of healthcare.

Leathersich, who began practicing as a physician assistant in 1995 and shifted into cosmetic medicine in 2004 before adding bariatric services in 2010, betrayed his credentials. His position demanded trust. Instead, he exploited it—using his DEA registration not to heal, but to feed dependencies. The line between physician and pusher blurred entirely in his hands.

The sentencing marks a rare but necessary crackdown on medical professionals weaponizing their licenses. Three years of probation and six months locked in his own home won’t erase the damage, but it sends a message: when a white coat hides a dealer’s intent, the feds will come knocking.