<\/p>\n
\nCONWAY, Ark. \u2014 Kim Little had not thought much about the tiny white spot on the side of her cheek until a physician\u2019s assistant at her dermatologist\u2019s office warned that it might be cancerous. He took a biopsy, returning 15 minutes later to confirm the diagnosis and schedule her for an outpatient procedure at the Arkansas Skin Cancer Center in Little Rock, 30 miles away.<\/p>\n
That was the prelude to a daylong medical odyssey several weeks later, through different private offices on the manicured campus at the Baptist Health Medical Center that involved a dermatologist, an anesthesiologist and an ophthalmologist who practices plastic surgery. It generated bills of more than $25,000.<\/p>\n
\u201cI felt like I was a hostage,\u201d said Ms. Little, a professor of history at the University of Central Arkansas, who had been told beforehand that she would need just a couple of stitches. \u201cI didn\u2019t have any clue how much they were going to bill. I had no idea it would be so much.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ms. Little\u2019s seemingly minor medical problem \u2014 she had the least dangerous form of skin cancer \u2014 racked up big bills because it involved three doctors from specialties that are among the highest compensated in medicine, and it was done on the grounds of a hospital. Many specialists have become particularly adept at the business of medicine by becoming more entrepreneurial, protecting their turf through aggressive lobbying by their medical societies, and most of all, increasing revenues by offering new procedures \u2014 or doing more of lucrative ones.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n