"We had a case of leprosy recently, and a case of neurocysticercosis. Inmate pathology is "much more fascinating than anything you see in a private practice," adds orthopedist Todd Wilcox, medical director of a 2,000-inmate "super-jail" in Salt Lake City. "In prison I treat asthma, diabetes, and hypertension, and I got very good at managing HIV." "In oncology you look at a lot of X-rays and blood smears, and the work can be rather narrow," says Cullinan. Three weeks later, he was delivering primary care 20 hours a week in the prison. Peoria, IL, oncologist Stephen Cullinan started doing consults on HIV-infected prisoners who had developed malignancies. "It's profitable, and a surprisingly refreshing break from the office routine," says Genraich.
So he works one morning a week at a lockup for juvenile felons in Pyote, TX, making $125 an hour.
After 30 years in private practice, family practitioner Melvyn Genraich needed a change of pace. Prisons and jails today attract a wide variety of physicians, many of whom supplement their private practices with corrections work. I give them what they need medically, not what they want, no matter how much they pout and posture." "I treat my 8-year-old son with a lot of respect, but I don't give him everything he wants," he says. "You're treating these guys like adults when they are really just 12-year-olds in adult bodies," said the helpful prisoner. The inmate explained that the patient had bet another inmate two packs of cigarettes that he could convince Quiñones he had back pain so he could get a bottom bunka status symbol in prison. "I thought, I'm double-board-certified I don't need this." An inmate who witnessed the encounter asked if he could give the doctor some advice. "I had just given excellent care to an inmate, who proceeded to yell at me," he recalls. After the first month "inside," he nearly quit. The death threat, he reported to the warden.įor five years Quiñones has worked in a prison one day a week, in addition to his regular job as an emergency physician. Quiñones took the lawsuit in stride, figuring that this one would be dismissed like most of the two dozen suits he's been hit with in 14 years of treating prisoners. The patient, who had been convicted of plotting to murder his wife, a nurse, first threatened to kill Quiñones, then sued the doctor for not treating his "epilepsy." Upon getting a consult from a neurologist, who found no evidence of seizures, Quiñones took the patient off medication and denied his request for a single cell in the maximum-security prison.
Another tipoff: Quiñones saw the man's eyelids fluttering, and after the episode his saccadic movements weren't sluggish. For one thing, the patient picked a comfortable spot to collapse. The seizure didn't look authentic to internist and emergency physician Moses Quiñones. It's surprisingly rewarding, financially and otherwise. A revenue source you probably haven't thought of: practicing part time in a prison or a jail.
0 kommentar(er)
