Nicole Kolesar

It’s 7:46 a.m.  You haven’t had coffee. Someone just cracked a molar on a granola bar and is blowing up your phones. They’re in pain. They’re panicked. They’ve got no idea you’re fee-for-service now. And all they want to know is: “Do you take my insurance?” Welcome to emergency dental care in a fee-for-service practice,

You’ve finally decided to kiss PPOs goodbye.  Congrats!  Your margins are about to stop bleeding.  But now comes the next reality check: how the heck do you keep patients from bailing when they find out you’re “out of network”? Spoiler: it’s not about throwing discounts at them like it’s a dental Groupon.  It’s about giving

Going Fee-For-Service doesn’t magically fill your chairs with dream patients.  You could have the best dentistry in town, the friendliest team, and the nicest operatories money can buy. But if nobody knows about you, or if you’re still marketing like a generic PPO office, you’ll be sitting in a very expensive ghost town. The good

Your fees are telling a story about your practice whether you realize it or not. Set them too low, and you’re broadcasting “We’re just like everyone else… and we’ll take whatever insurance gives us.”  Price them too high without strategy, and you’ll watch patients quietly disappear to the guy down the street.  But set them

Telling patients you’re dropping their insurance plan feels like the dental equivalent of breaking up with someone who still really likes you.  You know it’s the right move for your practice.  You know it’ll give you the freedom to deliver the kind of care you believe in.  But that doesn’t stop the knot in your

Picture this. It’s 3:27 PM on a Tuesday, and you’re staring at your daily report like it personally insulted you. You did three crowns, a new patient exam, two hygiene checks, and walked Mrs. Jenkins through her treatment plan like a dental therapist. And yet… that net production? Trash.  PPO adjustments just stripped your revenue

Imagine this: It’s closing time.  The fluorescent hum settles into silence, your last hygiene patient has floated out the door with a complimentary lip balm, and the sterilizer’s green light flickers like a stubborn question mark.  On your desk sits a fat stack of EOBs—each one a polite reminder that you delivered $1,800 in care