“The letter said I had to pay $2400 each year to remain a patient because from now on he was going to be running a concierge practice. I would still have to use my insurance and pay deductibles and such. He’s a good doctor but I just don’t have that kind of money!” She said it in a way that made it clear the she hoped he would not hold it against her that she would have to find a new doctor. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers…
Trust me, honey, I know him. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass.
I get told all the time that I ought to go into concierge practice.
But I won’t.
The fact is, I would feel like such a sellout, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Why do I hate concierge medicine so much?
I want to believe that it is because I think healthcare should be equally good for everyone, not better for those who can pay more. Concierge medicine smacks of elitism. Maybe, though, it is because I don’t understand people that have that kind of money, that kind of entitlement. Yes, I have assigned an unfair stereotype, haven’t I?
Maybe I am simply jealous of them?
And then I wonder at what point do I actually become one of those rich, entitled people? Is it when I become willing to pay the retainer fee? Or some point before?
Do I have to have gobs of money to be one of them?
Is wearing a large chunk of fake diamond on my finger selling out, too, in a way? I have had it for just over a year now. People treat me very differently when they notice the “rock” on my finger and I have to admit that I like it, I like the deference and I feel dirty because I like it. And then I ask myself WHY does that make me feel dirty and not any number of other things from my checkered past?
And so I come back to some level of jealousy.
I am not noble. I am eaten up with jealousy and having to face that every day would be painfully difficult.
That is why I cannot do concierge medicine.