- Payment is due at time of service, unless other arrangements have been made in advance.
- A minimum of 24 hours is required for cancellations, otherwise full charge will be made.
- You are responsible for any fees not covered by insurance.
You all signed an agreement to these three points before we ever sat down to talk for the first time.
I love what a do for a living, but peeps, the operative words here are “for a living.” This is my job. It’s not a hobby. I don’t get paid, I don’t eat. And I do like to eat.
#1. “In advance” does not mean after you sit down for your session, or worse, at the end of your session.
How would you like it if, on payday, your employer announced that he forgot to bring his checkbook? Or asked you to hold the check until Friday/the end of the month/Doomsday? How would you like it if he asked if he could pay you “next time”?
And what would you say if your employer asked you, after telling you he’s not going to pay you, “Is that all right?” What am I supposed to say? It’s not all right. If you called ahead and said, “I can’t pay you this week, Dr. Righteous,” then I’d have a choice. I could, if we have worked together for awhile and I know you’re good for it, tell you to come on in and we’ll worry about payment later. Or I have the opportunity to suggest that we reschedule. But if you ask me that at the beginning of the session, do you really think you are going to get an honest answer? What am I gonna do, say “No, it’s not ok, get out of my office!”? You tell me after we’ve already had our session, what am I supposed to do? Repossess the hour?
#2. If you don’t give me at least 24 hours notice, I haven’t a chance of a snowball in hell of scheduling someone else into that hour. And once again, if I don’t get paid, I don’t eat.
How would you like it if you arrived at work one day to find a “Closed” sign on the door? Same thing. I arrive at work, but you, my employer of the hour, do not.
How would you like it if your boss called while you were in the shower and left you a message saying the business will be closed for an hour today? A little late for you to make other plans, isn’t it?
Late cancellations are bad, but no-shows are a pain in the ass. I can’t start anything else, because you might be here any minute. If not showing up seems out of character for you, then I spend the time worrying that you’ve had an accident or something. If you are suicidal, then of course I wonder if you are swinging from the rafters at this very moment, and maybe I should be dialing 911 instead of sitting here with my thumb up my ass waiting to see if you are going to show up. And speaking of dialing, I can’t get on the phone (other than to check for a message from you), or even walk away from the phone, in case you are just running late and might be trying to call the office. Do you think I don’t care? I worry about you if you don’t turn up when you are supposed to!
Imagine, if you can, how I feel when I call my answering service 20 minutes into your hour, to find you’ve left a message within the last few minutes to say you can’t afford it today (it’s a $20 copay, for chrissakes, you spent more than that yesterday getting your nails done) or that you overslept, or you forgot, or whatever.
Apparently your personal growth and happiness has become more important to me than it is to you. After all, I’m here and ready to work. What’s wrong with that picture??
#3. I did the work. I need to be paid. So I can eat.
How would you like it if you never knew whether or when or how much you would get paid at your job? Maybe some days you would, some days you wouldn’t. Some days you’d get paid, but only 14.81% of your salary. That’s exactly what happens to me if your insurance company denies the claim and all I ever collect for that hour is your lousy copay. How would you like that?
How would you like it if, willy-nilly, your employer decided not to pay you for the work you did between, say, two o’clock and three o’clock for the last couple of Wednesdays? A little late to make alternative arrangements to produce income those days, isn’t it?
Take another little piece of my heart now, baby
You know you got it, if it makes you feel good! –Janis Joplin
The worst experience for me though is when you run up a bill and then just stop showing up. I call. I send a letter. I send a statement every month. You ignore me.
Psychotherapy is a pretty personal experience on my side of the couch, too, toots. When we are working, I give something of myself. So it hurts personally as well as financially when you stiff me for the bill. It feels as if you are giving me the finger. Which of course, in a way, you are.
Analyze that.