Medical Dispatch   Medicine’s money problem.  by April 4, 2005
To become a doctor, you spend so much time in the tunnels of
preparation—head down, trying not to screw up, trying to make it
from one day to the next—that it is a shock to find yourself at
the other end, with someone shaking your hand and asking how
much money you want to make. But the day comes. Two years ago, I
was finishing my eighth and final year as a resident in surgery.
I had got a second interview for a surgical staff position at
the Brigham and Women’s Hospital, in Boston, where I had
trained. It was a great job—I’d get to specialize in surgery for
certain tumors that interested me, but I’d also be able to do
some general surgery. On the appointed day, I put on my fancy
suit and took a seat in the wood-panelled office of the chairman
of surgery. He sat down opposite me and then he told me the job
was mine. “Do you want it?” Yes, I said, a little startled. The
job, he explained, came with a guaranteed salary for three
years. After that,