Thanks, But No Thanks

She was young, neatly dressed, professional. I don’t remember her name, though she handed me a business card as soon as I stepped up to the front window.

I thought she was a new drug rep to my territory, and I usually try to say “hi” when they first come in. They’re just doing their job, and I don’t mind chatting for a few minutes.

But she, as it turned out, was here for a whole new thing. Taking out a glossy brochure, she dived into a spiel about my offering a medical credit card through my office. I would get paid quickly, I might even get some extra money from patient interest payments, it is convenient for patients, win-win situation all around, yadda yadda yadda.

I smiled, thanked her for coming in, but told her this wasn’t a good fit for my practice.

I’m well aware that keeping a small practice afloat ain’t easy. Medicine is one of the few fields (unless you’re strictly doing cash pay) where we can’t raise prices to keep up with inflation. Well, we can, but what we get paid won’t change. That’s the nature of dealing with Medicare and insurance. What you charge and what you’ll get (and have to accept) are generally not the same.

But even so, I try to stick with what I know — being a neurologist. I’m not here to offer a range of financial services. I have neither the time, nor interest, to run a patient’s copay while trying to sell them on a medical credit card.

For that matter I’m not going to set up shop selling vitamin supplements, hangover-curing infusions, endorsing products on X, or any of the other dubious things touted as “thinking outside the box” ways to increase revenue.

I suppose some will say I’m old-fashioned, or this is why my practice operates on a thin margin, or that I’m focusing more on patients than business. I don’t mind. Caring for patients is why I’m here.

I also hear the argument that if I don’t market a medical credit card (or whatever), someone else will. That’s fine. Let them. I wish them good luck. It’s just not for me.

Like I’ve said in the past, I’m an old dog, but a happy one. I’ll leave the new tricks to someone else.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.

She was young, neatly dressed, professional. I don’t remember her name, though she handed me a business card as soon as I stepped up to the front window.

I thought she was a new drug rep to my territory, and I usually try to say “hi” when they first come in. They’re just doing their job, and I don’t mind chatting for a few minutes.

But she, as it turned out, was here for a whole new thing. Taking out a glossy brochure, she dived into a spiel about my offering a medical credit card through my office. I would get paid quickly, I might even get some extra money from patient interest payments, it is convenient for patients, win-win situation all around, yadda yadda yadda.

I smiled, thanked her for coming in, but told her this wasn’t a good fit for my practice.

I’m well aware that keeping a small practice afloat ain’t easy. Medicine is one of the few fields (unless you’re strictly doing cash pay) where we can’t raise prices to keep up with inflation. Well, we can, but what we get paid won’t change. That’s the nature of dealing with Medicare and insurance. What you charge and what you’ll get (and have to accept) are generally not the same.

But even so, I try to stick with what I know — being a neurologist. I’m not here to offer a range of financial services. I have neither the time, nor interest, to run a patient’s copay while trying to sell them on a medical credit card.

For that matter I’m not going to set up shop selling vitamin supplements, hangover-curing infusions, endorsing products on X, or any of the other dubious things touted as “thinking outside the box” ways to increase revenue.

I suppose some will say I’m old-fashioned, or this is why my practice operates on a thin margin, or that I’m focusing more on patients than business. I don’t mind. Caring for patients is why I’m here.

I also hear the argument that if I don’t market a medical credit card (or whatever), someone else will. That’s fine. Let them. I wish them good luck. It’s just not for me.

Like I’ve said in the past, I’m an old dog, but a happy one. I’ll leave the new tricks to someone else.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.

She was young, neatly dressed, professional. I don’t remember her name, though she handed me a business card as soon as I stepped up to the front window.

I thought she was a new drug rep to my territory, and I usually try to say “hi” when they first come in. They’re just doing their job, and I don’t mind chatting for a few minutes.

But she, as it turned out, was here for a whole new thing. Taking out a glossy brochure, she dived into a spiel about my offering a medical credit card through my office. I would get paid quickly, I might even get some extra money from patient interest payments, it is convenient for patients, win-win situation all around, yadda yadda yadda.

I smiled, thanked her for coming in, but told her this wasn’t a good fit for my practice.

I’m well aware that keeping a small practice afloat ain’t easy. Medicine is one of the few fields (unless you’re strictly doing cash pay) where we can’t raise prices to keep up with inflation. Well, we can, but what we get paid won’t change. That’s the nature of dealing with Medicare and insurance. What you charge and what you’ll get (and have to accept) are generally not the same.

But even so, I try to stick with what I know — being a neurologist. I’m not here to offer a range of financial services. I have neither the time, nor interest, to run a patient’s copay while trying to sell them on a medical credit card.

For that matter I’m not going to set up shop selling vitamin supplements, hangover-curing infusions, endorsing products on X, or any of the other dubious things touted as “thinking outside the box” ways to increase revenue.

I suppose some will say I’m old-fashioned, or this is why my practice operates on a thin margin, or that I’m focusing more on patients than business. I don’t mind. Caring for patients is why I’m here.

I also hear the argument that if I don’t market a medical credit card (or whatever), someone else will. That’s fine. Let them. I wish them good luck. It’s just not for me.

Like I’ve said in the past, I’m an old dog, but a happy one. I’ll leave the new tricks to someone else.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.