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.
* * *
"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."
"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?
For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"
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Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.
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