“The only thing that will change will be our name.”
These were the words shared by a senior partner when our staff was informed that the partnership had decided to sell the practice to a private equity firm. Unfortunately, as the story unfolded, that was also the moment that my future changed.
I was an associate when those now infamous words were uttered. While I was wary of this transition, it was sold to me with promises of an earlier partnership, less administrative work, and insulation from changes in insurance reimbursement. I was cautiously optimistic.
I didn’t come to work the next day with the sky falling down. The changes were more subtle at first. Of the many changes that occurred, they all fell under the same umbrella: consolidation. No longer did we have an in-office HR department that we could go to with questions or concerns. Instead of having an administrative leadership team of four, it was whittled down to two, leading to clinical decisions being made by non-clinical staff.
The cost of consolidation
Some of the changes were less subtle. Our medical records department was gutted, including the termination of a team member with 20 years of service, delivered over Zoom.
Needless to say, the changes, both subtle and overt, had significant downstream effects and ultimately reshaped the culture of our practice. We were no longer a practice focused on the quality of patient care, but rather on productivity (shorter and more visits), RVUs, and cost-cutting. We were a practice that forced patients to sign up for services not out of medical need, but because it was good for the PE’s bottom line.
It turns out, when you try to bring up the quality of patient care up to the CEO or COO of a private equity group, you are reminded that it is not a priority. I believe the response was something like, “That’s just your opinion.” This conversation cemented my decision to leave.
The catch. I still had two years left on my contract.
Finding acceptance
The last year of practicing at the group was challenging. I joked with many that I went through the five stages of grief a couple of times over. That being said, I did finally reach acceptance. I learned that despite all of those challenges, I did still love taking care of my patients. I still love practicing medicine.
It’s on to the next venture. I know my next position won’t be perfect and I expect there will be challenges along the way. What I do know is that I will choose a practice whose focus will be the quality of patient care.
The author is an anonymous physician.
