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Schneider.” Schneider was one of the few doctors in the area to readily accept Medicaid, which, he said, reimbursed less than a fifth of the cost of his appointments, and he quickly attracted a large population of patients who were on disability.
Many suffered from lower-back pain after years spent assembling aircraft machinery.
Her aunt was a trapeze artist, her grandfather owned a circus known for its elephant, and her father ran concession and game stands.He treated the county commissioner and the chief of police, gave physicals to the boys at the Haysville high school, and did rounds at local nursing homes.One of his patients, Jeffrey Peters, told me that Schneider reminded him of the “kind of family doctor we had forty years ago, when I was growing up—a doctor who will sit down and listen to you and joke around and make you feel comfortable.” On September 13, 2005, Schneider arrived at work to find the clinic cordoned off with police tape.She encouraged him to apply to medical school, even though she worried that a “professional that high up may get a big head.” At the University of Health Sciences, a school of osteopathy in Kansas City, Schneider felt alienated by what he called the “Dr.God feeling.” He found some of his attending physicians “demanding and demeaning to patients and nurses.” Leigh Anne, who is now a doctor, told me that her father was “never comfortable with the level of status” that came with the job.
He called his wife, Linda Atterbury, a blond, peppy forty-seven-year-old nurse, who was at home with their two young daughters, and told her to come to work.