Why I’m leaving a hospital-owned PCP
It’s exciting for me. I get to practice what I preach. Better care; better outcomes.
Four years ago, I moved my family from Buffalo, New York to Charlotte, North Carolina. To say that it was a huge undertaking would be putting it very mildly. We had to change everything that we’ve ever done. We had to make new friends, find a new grocery store (God, I miss Wegmans — my fellow Northeasterners can relate), we had to find new day cares, and, most importantly get all new doctors.
Almost all our decisions regarding these new things were made based off of referrals from my sister, who already lived in Charlotte. I would imagine most people use a similar method. Naturally, we originally chose to go to a pediatrician that my niece and nephew were already going to. But right from the get go, I didn’t totally love the practice. It was enormous, with 15+ doctors, and I felt like even after the doctor had seen my child four or five times she would still come in and introduce herself as if it was their first encounter. My son had a lot of health issues early on, so I opted to go to a smaller practice in order to have a more intimate relationship with the doctor.
Related: Direct primary care 101
The practice we chose was nice; there was a younger doctor who I felt had a similar mindset to me and my husband regarding “less is more,” and an older doctor who was a little kooky, but still great. About six months into the relationship, though, the practice was bought by a large local hospital system. I’m sure with that transaction came a lot of benefits. I’m sure the doctors were promised a more robust team behind them to process claims, higher reimbursements, and a sum of money. However, as the doctors have told me, there have been a lot of unintended consequences.
First and foremost, I get the opportunity to visit with the doctors for all of 10 minutes per visit. Most of the time, it leaves enough time for me to ask about two questions. And my intellectual curiosity doesn’t like being stifled, especially when it means limiting my ability to find answers to questions about my child’s issues.
When my son was two, we should have gotten a VIP card for the place. I was literally there three times a week! You name a test, my son had it. He was sick for well over a month, with a fever every day, vomiting and lethargy. He lost eight pounds that month! As a parent, I was pulling my hair out and this is what I was hearing from my sons doctors: “Maybe he has cystic fibrosis. Maybe he has Reyes Syndrome. Maybe he has an autoimmune issue.” I was Googling everything and found myself crying most nights, thinking the worst. We were referred to a million specialists (all within the same hospital system) and I felt like no one was treating my child holistically — they were each siloed within their specialty or concentration. It was incredibly frustrating.
Fast forward to today, three years later, and I still face a lot of the same issues with the practice. I get no time with the doctors, they can’t treat my child holistically, I get referred to a million high-cost specialists and I feel like none of the doctors get to practice medicine the way it was intended to be practiced. For those reasons, we’ve decided to look for a direct primary care facility.
It’s exciting for me. I get to practice what I preach. Better care; better outcomes.
I’m not sure why it’s taken me so long to make the plunge. Probably because change is hard. But life doesn’t get better by chance, it gets better by change.
Rachel Miner is an employee benefit strategist at Employee Benefit Advisors of the Carolinas, LLC.