I once gave a shot of alprostadil into the shaft of my penis. The needle was 31 gauge—so small I could barely feel it." It
was April 1999, and I was giving my first medical presentation, "Beyond Viagra: The full spectrum of treatments for erectile
dysfunction," to fellow internists. I'd acquired expertise in the treatment of ED by moonlighting at an impotence clinic,
and I thought it'd be fun to give a talk on the subject. I pitched the idea to the Virginia Chapter of The American College
of Physicians, and it was accepted.
Next time a pharmaceutical sales rep for an ED drug visited my office, I suggested that I give talks for his company. At first
he was wary, but once he and others from the company heard my talk, they booked me for six sessions.
I enjoyed speaking so much, I decided to broaden my repertoire and try talking about other classes of drugs that I had an
interest in—antihypertensives, antibiotics, and antidepressants. To prepare, I did MEDLINE searches, gathered information
from specialists, attended seminars, and pooled the experiences of my patients. After I'd determined which meds were the best
within the classes, I worked on how to articulate why they were the best.
When sales reps came by to tell me about one of my chosen meds, I'd cut them off and say, "Your drug is clearly the best in
its class, but if I were you, I'd emphasize the following points . . . . You know, I give a lot of talks for pharmaceutical
companies. I'd be happy to do the same for yours." One said, "Dr. Ferguson, you could sell sand in a desert." I beamed. After all, isn't it important for physicians to be good
salespeople? We have to sell patients on the benefits of a healthy lifestyle and on complying with our therapy regimens.
Here's how I work. The first time I give a talk, it takes me 10 to 20 hours to become conversant with the relevant research.
Once I've given a talk, there's little need to prepare for subsequent ones.
Where do I find the time? I used to see patients about 60 hours a week; now it's more like 35. Some people ask whether I plan
to give up seeing patients altogether. The answer to that is No. If I gave up seeing patients, doctors wouldn't want to hear
my presentations. They wouldn't have much confidence in the advice of a doctor who has no practice. The patients I do see
benefit from having a physician who spends so much time keeping up with the research.
I receive $1,000-$1,500 for a dinner presentation, and $500-$750 for breakfasts and lunches. Often on days when I give daytime
talks, I go on physician calls with the reps, for which I'm paid $100 each. I also do live teleconferences. They're less lucrative
but more convenient than in-person presentations. I usually make $350 for a 30-minute teleconference from my home phone.
The bottom line? In 2002, I made about $20,000 from speaking engagements. Last year, I brought in well over $100,000. My revenue
from the practice had dropped, of course, but last year I saw a net gain of about $40,000.
Another possible source of income has surfaced as an adjunct to my speaking career: I could share my experience with physicians
who are interested in speaking and advise them on how to get started. If I charge $150 an hour, I could make an extra $3,000
a month.
An unexpected perk: Many of my talks are local, so I now have more time to spend with my family. And, pharmaceutical companies
pay for my family vacations: Last summer we spent four weeks in Myrtle Beach, SC, and Bar Harbor, ME, where I gave 11 talks
and netted about $12,000.
Currently I make presentations for 10 companies on medications prescribed for almost every area of primary care. The key to
the success of my presentations is my passion—I speak only about meds I believe to be the best within their respective class.
How could I be passionate about a medication that I believe to be second best?
At times, people ask, "Why do you waste yourself working for those damned drug companies?" My quip: "The money, stupid."
Yet the truth is a bit more complicated. Yes, the money is great, and having more time with my wife and four small children
is irreplaceable. But a big reason is my idealism—the same idealism that sent me to work for the Peace Corps in Africa, and
brought me to medical school when I came back. I believe I'm helping physicians to take better care of their patients.