How to Collect a Doctor Bill by Franklyn Pierre Davis
How to Collect a Doctor Bill by Franklyn Pierre Davis
A man with a bulging forehead once said that "Life is what you make it." This is very true in the profession of medicine. The successful physician must live in the manner of successful men. To do this, most men must live upon the income from their practice. If the physician properly cares for his wife and children, he must realize on his investment-his medical education. A man's first duty is to his own, and it is written that the man who fails to collect that which is due him, and "provides not for his own, and especially for those of his own house, is worse than an infidel."
To successfully conduct any enterprise it is necessary to adopt business methods. System is the key-note of modern business, and the simplest system is the best. A cash system is by far the simplest.
No man can succeed in practice, nor can he be considered a safe medical adviser so long as he is handicapped by poverty, a worried mind or poor health; or if he is compelled to dodge around corners to escape his creditors.
There are men who tell us that they are not in practice so much for money as for the glory and honor of the profession. If these men are sincere, I pity them from the bottom of my heart, and feel sorry for their wives and children. Nor can I understand where the profession can gain much honor from men who are financial failures. Not that money is the only thing for which we should strive, but that the man who provides not for his own, cannot be representative of the noble profession of medicine. Also, I have observed that the path of glory leads in the direction of the cemetery, and checks on the National Bank of Fame are generally protested when the rent comes around.
The applause and compliments of the multitude are no doubt sweet, but it only lulls to rest the voice of duty, and fails to provide sustenance for those dependent upon us. Man cannot live on air alone-even though it be flavored by the ambrosia of sweet compliments and the hypnosis of applause. Again, I have observed that a larger crowd will turn out any time to see a man hung than to compliment him on a duty well performed.
The man who answers calls at all hours of the day and night, for any and every one who may request his services; with no assurance of ever receiving pay; and who is afraid to demand settlement for fear of losing practice, is not competent to conduct his own affairs, much less to practice medicine. It is this class of men who make dead-beats of our patrons, and thus reduce the income of physicians to a point where a bare existence is all we can hope for.
To be a safe medical advisor requires that the mind be free from the petty cares of life. He should live in a manner in keeping with the dignity of the profession to which he has given his life. He must have a neat office, wear good clothes, have a happy home and a contented mind.
It is well to achieve the reputation of being an indefatigable and shrewd collector. It pays. It will influence your regular patrons to pay more promptly. It will also help to keep away those who trespass upon your time and never pay you. The only sure way to hold practice is to require your patrons to pay their bills promptly. If they do not owe you they are not so liable to avoid you and cease to employ you. Let a family once get greatly in arrears, then it will happen that-not having the cheek to face you-they will call another physician, and give every reason but the true one for deserting you. Thus, through your own neglect you lose patronage, friends and your good name and reputation. The public will never place any higher value on your services than you do yourself. The death-knell of any physician's success is tolled when he becomes known as a "cheap doctor."
Not only must you require others to pay you, but you must also pay your own bills. Physicians, as a rule, are considered poor pay by business men. It is a very good rule in life to discount all bills that you owe, and never to discount a bill due you. Make it a rule to never owe any man anything, and to have as few owe you as possible.
Many physicians will cut their bills to whatever the debtor cares to pay. In this way they lose a large part of their fees, and achieve the reputation of being poor business men.
I heard an old Arkansas doctor relate his experience in discounting a bill that well illustrates the weakness of many physicians. A client owed him $60, and after the account had run about six months, the man came in and said, "Doc, I hain't got the money, but if you will cut that bill in two I'll borrow it from my father-in-law." The doctor thought $30 would be better than waiting, so agreed. Three months later the man returned and said, "Doc, I couldn't get the money from my father-in-law, but I have a fat hog I can sell and get some money if you will cut that bill in two." The account was growing old and the doctor thought he had better take the $15, so he said all right. Six months from that time the fellow hove in view again. This time he said, "Doc, my wife thought we needed that hog for meat and I couldn't get her consent to sell it, but I have a job now, and if you will cut that bill in two, I'll pay you." This time the doctor thought he saw $7.50 in sight, so again he agreed. "All right, Doc," said the debtor, "as soon as I get in a few weeks work, I'll be in and pay you." The doctor said the fellow did come around a few months later and began a similar story, but he told him to go to a country where rotary snow plows are not much in demand.
One of the greatest mistakes is in allowing accounts for different cases to accumulate until the amount becomes so large that it is difficult to pay. It is always best to require settlement as soon after each case is dismissed as possible. In sending statements, be careful to itemize by cases only, as "John, fever, $15," "Wife, confinement, $25," etc. I seldom give the disease unless it is some special case that required much attention. In some cases it refreshes their memory when reference is made to the disease.
You must know your business. Give every man a square deal, and require others to do the same by you. When you have completed your work, remember the advice of old Prof. Joslyn, "Get money, still get money, boy, no matter by what means" so long as it is justly due you for services rendered. If you fail to require your patrons to pay you for your services, you have not done your full duty.
* * *
I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant. But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over. "Sign it," He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise. I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth. "It's just cramps," I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could. Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus. Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down. He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.
Her ex-husband declared, "The person I admired most was that legendary racer." She smiled thinly. "Hate to break it to you-that was me." He said, "Jealous I blew a fortune on a world-famous jeweler for Violet?" She let out a cool laugh. "Funny, that designer trained under me." He scoffed, "Buying a dying firm won't put you in my league. Snap out of it." She shrugged. "Weird-I just steered your company off a cliff." Stunned, he blurted out, "Baby, come back. I'll love you forever." She wrinkled her nose. "Hard pass. Keep your cheap love." Then she took a mogul's arm and never looked back.
"Let's get married," Mia declares, her voice trembling despite her defiant gaze into Stefan's guarded brown eyes. She needs this, even if he seems untouchable. Stefan raises a skeptical brow. "And why would I do that?" His voice was low, like a warning, and it made her shiver even though she tried not to show it. "We both have one thing in common," Mia continues, her gaze unwavering. "Shitty fathers. They want to take what's ours and give it to who they think deserves it." A pointed pause hangs in the air. "The only difference between us is that you're an illegitimate child, and I'm not." Stefan studies her, the heiress in her designer armor, the fire in her eyes that matches the burn of his own rage. "That's your solution? A wedding band as a weapon?" He said ignoring the part where she just referred to him as an illegitimate child. "The only weapon they won't see coming." She steps closer, close enough for him to catch the scent of her perfume, gunpowder and jasmine. "Our fathers stole our birthrights. The sole reason they betrayed us. We join forces, create our own empire that'll bring down theirs." A beat of silence. Then, Stefan's mouth curves into something sharp. "One condition," he murmurs, closing the distance. "No divorces. No surrenders. If we're doing this, it's for life" "Deal" Mia said without missing a beat. Her father wants to destroy her life. She wouldn't give him the pleasure, she would destroy her life as she seems fit. ................ Two shattered heirs. One deadly vow. A marriage built on revenge. Mia Meyers was born to rule her father's empire (so she thought), until he named his bastard son heir instead. Stefan Sterling knows the sting of betrayal too. His father discarded him like trash. Now the rivals' disgraced children have a poisonous proposal: Marry for vengeance. Crush their fathers' legacies. Never speak of divorce. Whoever cracks first loses everything. Can these two rivals, united by their vengeful hearts, pull off a marriage of convenience to reclaim what they believe is rightfully theirs? Or will their fathers' animosity, and their own complicated pasts tear their fragile alliance apart?
"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.
Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, "Do you think you deserve it?" Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, "Marry me?"
After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."
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