A Healer, Not a Haggler

The truth is, I charge way below standard professional fees. Many times, I don’t even collect, and often, my patients happily carry a stash of medicine samples from my clinic, which cost more than my professional fee. I’ve had patients walk out of the clinic saying, “Hala, tun lang PF ni Doc?” Relieved, surprised, and maybe a little guilty. Some of the colleagues I have worked with have even asked the nurses, "Mabubuhay kaya si Jean jan sa PF nya?"  I take that as a compliment.

I chose this profession because I wanted to help people. And yes, because UP has "brainwashed" me into making serving the underserved my ultimate goal, I take that goal seriously.

So when someone assumes, let me emphasize the word "assumes",  that I must be charging too much, it stings. Not because of the money, but because of what it implies: that I need to be bargained with. That this profession I have loved deeply, trained for with both discipline and delight, can be haggled down like produce in a palengke. That something rooted in compassion and science, something I’ve poured decades of curiosity and care into, needs to justify itself before it is paid for.

Let me be clear: I understand that times are hard. I understand what it’s like to count coins for a consultation. I have waived my PFs many times, without being asked. In fact, I price my fees in such a way that patients can retain their dignity without needing to beg. Because if people are sick, and made poor because they are sick, then the least they deserve is to keep their pride. I feel sad when they have to set their pride aside to ask for discounts. So I have always made sure that my PFs are fair and lower than standard rates, rooted in the principles of justice, compassion, and kindness.

But what I struggle with is the assumption that I must be overpriced. That I must be earning too much because I am charging too much. That I must be made to prove I’m not greedy before I even open my mouth. 

This week, the internet lit up with a commentary from Ramon Tulfo, who called out a doctor at the Philippine Heart Center for allegedly “overcharging.” Many were quick to judge. Few paused to ask what the full story was. Medical groups stood by the physician, stating that the professional fee was fair, compassionate, and reasonable. That the doctor had, in fact, already lowered it.

We do this all the time. Quietly. Out of compassion. But that compassion is neither limitless nor owed.

Doctors are people, too. We have bills to pay, families to raise, and dreams to chase. What we do is a vocation, but that doesn’t mean we should be asked to live off vocation alone. We cannot keep patching a broken healthcare system with our own self-sacrifice. Compassion should not require self-erasure.

And when the system fails, as it often does, it is not just the patients who suffer. As my UP-NTTCHP professor, Dr. Nemuel Fajutagana, so powerfully put it: "If we truly value life, we cannot keep patching a broken system with the sacrifices of those who hold it together. The dignity of patients matters, and so does the dignity of those who care for them. If we want a healthier Philippines, we must fix the system, , not break the people who sustain it."

If someone took the time to ask, “Doc, how much is your PF usually?” And then, after hearing the fee, said, “Would it be possible to lower it a bit?” Now, that’s a negotiation. That is honest communication. And I appreciate patients and their families when they do that.

But asking for a discount without even knowing the price? That is so disheartening. And when it happens after the first or second visit, after trust has supposedly been built, it is even more infuriating. Because that’s like handing me a message that says, “I trust you enough to save my life, but not enough to pay you fairly.”

Worse, it feeds into a painful, misguided narrative that medicine is now just business, that those who took an oath to heal have turned it into a profit-making, self-serving machinery. That the profession I love, the one many of us have dedicated our lives to with sincerity and sacrifice, has somehow gone to the dogs and that we physicians have turned into the devil himself. It is unfair. It is untrue. And it breaks my heart.

So please. Ask first before assuming I’m too expensive. Don’t haggle before hearing me out. Respect my work the way I respect your pain. Stop assuming the worst of the people who are trying their best.

I am a healer, not a haggler. And I believe we can meet each other where kindness and respect live.