She had already signed the lease.
A friend of ours, a hospitalist, had accepted an attending position in the Chicago area. The contract stated she could be assigned to work at any of the practice’s contracted hospitals. She read it carefully. She asked which hospital she’d be based at. They told her. She found an apartment nearby, signed a lease, and started planning her life around a commute she could live with.
Then the practice lost their contract with that hospital.
She was reassigned to a location fifty miles away. The practice was within its contractual rights. There was nothing in her agreement that addressed what would happen if an affiliated hospital was dropped. She hadn’t thought to ask about it. Neither would most people.
She walked away from the job before her first day, lived off savings while restarting her search, and went through the entire hiring process again from scratch.
The hard part isn’t that she missed something. She read the contract. She asked questions. She did what you’re supposed to do. The hard part is that what hurt her wasn’t in the contract at all. It was the question the contract never answered, and that she didn’t know to ask.
That story stayed with me.
Around the same time, my fiancée, an anesthesiologist in the Bay Area, received her first attending offer. We sat down to read it together. She had the clinical knowledge. I work in tech. Between the two of us, we thought we’d be fine. We weren’t fine.
The contract had an automatic renewal clause, the kind that quietly rolls your agreement forward unless you act within a specific window. It had a call schedule that was loosely defined, not clearly wrong, just vague enough to mean almost anything. And it had a sign-on bonus that looked reasonable on the surface.
That last one bothered me. Something felt off about the number. I pushed her to ask for more. She didn’t want to. The offer was already good, and the ask felt risky, presumptuous even, after everything she’d been through to get here. She made the call anyway. They said yes, without hesitation. A conversation that felt uncomfortable for five minutes added meaningfully to her compensation.
The ask was always available. She just hadn’t known to make it.
What happened next was months of going deep into a world I didn’t belong in. I learned how physician contracts are actually structured. What carries real risk and what reads scarier than it is. How terms shift by specialty, by market, by practice type. But more than anything, I kept coming back to what happened to our friend. The risk wasn’t buried in complicated language. It was in the silence. In what the contract didn’t say. And knowing what’s missing requires having seen enough contracts to know what should be there.
That pattern recognition is hard to develop on your own.
One physician found a non-compete clause that would have barred her from practicing within fifty miles of her home for two years after leaving, in a market where most hospital systems fell within that radius. She negotiated it out entirely before signing. Another discovered his malpractice coverage was structured so that he’d owe tens of thousands in tail coverage the moment he left, buried in three lines he’d read twice and missed both times.
Good contract review should flag clauses like these, explain what they actually mean, and show how compensation compares to similar physicians in similar roles. It should also surface what’s absent: the protections that don’t appear but should, and the scenarios a contract leaves dangerously open.
The goal should never be to replace attorneys. There are situations where you absolutely need one.
The goal is simpler. Most physicians reviewing a first attending contract aren’t in complex negotiations. They’re trying to feel confident they understand what they’re signing, at a point in their careers when they’re already stretched thin and the stakes feel enormous.
That confidence shouldn’t require a four-hundred-dollar-an-hour phone call to access.
Your contract will shape the next several years of your life. Not just the salary, but the call schedule, the renewal terms, the exit clauses, and the scenarios it never thought to address. You’ve earned the right to understand all of it.
Don’t sign until you do.
Vikram Chahal is a health care executive.




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