. . . And In Health Despite an industry upheaval and two gravely ill sons, this health-care BIZ Experiences discovered the prescription for perseverance.

It was early 1996, just months after he and his wife, Jacquelyn,founded their contract rehabilitation company, Achievement TherapyProfessionals (ATP) Inc., when Ted Langdon first heard rumblingsthat times, they were a changin' (in the health-care industry,that is). Hearsay trickling down the grapevine of home-health andrehabilitation providers pointed to the inevitable: PresidentClinton's Balanced Budget Act of 1997 would cut back onMedicare, not only bringing about a cap on outpatientrehabilitation services, but also lowering per-visit costs toMedicare-based home-health agencies, hospitals and skilled nursingfacilities.

Sadly, looming business woes were the least of the Langdons'worries that year. In the summer of 1996, at age three, their sonSpencer-twin brother of Tyler-was diagnosed with leukemia,warranting three years of chemotherapy and approximately $1,000worth of medication each month. Faced with circumstances that wouldobliterate the future goals of most, the Langdons didn't fold,but instead expanded ATP's services to override the Medicaremassacre.

Making ATP a "one-stop shop" by adding outpatientrehab to its services was the ultimate goal, but first the Langdonshad to move the company out of their Carrboro, North Carolina, home(situated in a bedroom, no less) and into a Hillsborough, NorthCarolina, office complex. To Ted, outpatient was ATP'ssalvation. "I really started seeing the effects [of theBalanced Budget Act] in 1997," says Ted, 33."Medicare-based agencies were laying off staff, and the firstpeople to go were with contract companies." If they didn'tgo out of business or merge with other corporations, agenciesdrastically reduced their pay rates to contract companies, loweringthe therapists' wages. Some just didn't pay at all-likeHouse Calls, a statewide home-health agency in North Carolina whoseowner was nabbed for allegedly double-billing his way toMedicare/Medicaid fraud in 1997. "I tried everything I couldto retrieve [the $14,000 House Calls owed], but they were sued byeveryone," says Ted. "They had everything frozen, and Iwas so far down on the lawsuit list that, basically, I never gotpaid."

Now when you're a national chain of rehab clinics, aless-than-$10,000 loss might cause a dent in operations. But whenthe two-year-old business you bootstrapped using savings, a couplecredit cards and retirement money is hit with that kind of blow-andyou're paying for your son's chemotherapytreatments-believe Ted Langdon, it hurts. "The banks surewouldn't loan us any money," he remembers. "It'sa service company, and the profit margins are too narrow." Anddon't forget the risk factor amid all the health-care reforms.It may have taken a year to fully recover, but by injecting his owncapital-earnings he'd saved from the six-figure salary he madeworking, sometimes seven days a week, as a licensed physicaltherapist assistant prior to starting ATP-he dug himself out of thehole.

Gearing Up

By July of 1998, ATP was reaping the fruits of its new home,conveniently located in front of a large sporting facility with anice rink, swimming pools, spring training equipment and a seminarroom. The company had also started providing outpatient rehab andeducation, as well as consulting services in addition to theprofessional rehabilitation staffing and management services italready provided for central North Carolina health-careorganizations. "That's really what saved us," Tedsays. "And I was able to keep a lot of my [prior] contractsjust because of my reputation and the people I knew. But the volumewasn't there like it was in 1995 through 1997."

Although the addition of new physical, occupational and speechtherapists (paid on a per diem basis to start) helped drum upbusiness, clients that dragged out their payments-sometimesfor months-put a damper on growth. That was Ted's cluethat monthly billing wasn't cutting it. He quickly switched toweekly.

Hiccups aside, ATP was poised for the expansion Ted sought. Butthen he and Jacquelyn, ATP's corporate secretary ofadministration, were dealt another blow just two years afterSpencer's diagnosis: Their then-five-month-old son Jack Grierwas diagnosed with osteopetrosis, a rare bone disease that,according to Ted, affects only 200 people in the world. "Heended up having to have a bone-marrow transplant, so my wife waswith him in the hospital for three months," recalls Ted."And a bone-marrow transplant's not cheap. It's abouta million dollars." But because the Langdons were valuedmembers of the community and their church, friends and strangerspulled together to raise money. They helped the family organize abone-marrow drive through the local Red Cross, held dances, benefitauctions, barbecues, yard sales-even a lemonade stand thatraised $900, courtesy of the children in the community. It onlysolidified the feeling that anything was possible with teamwork andsupport.

For The People

Perhaps it's because they selflessly gave time and money tohim and his family in their time of need that Ted is so set onmaking rehabilitation accessible to everyone in the 12 NorthCarolina counties ATP serves. Not only does the company, with about30 employees (including contract therapists), offer free therapyscreening, it also provides discounts on a sliding scale topatients with no insurance or no, or limited, out-of-networkbenefits.

Ted admits it may not be the wisest strategy, because ATP, withsales expected to hit $750,000 this year, has yet to go big-time."The way I look at it is, we're trying to give back to thecommunity. And if I can at least cover my costs and make a veryslight profit margin, then we'll do things like that," Tedsays. "I write it off as marketing, because, hopefully,they'll refer more patients with insurance who can affordit." Keeping overhead low by having therapists in managementwork full time, using extra space in health clubs and schools asquasi-clinics, and making employment forms for prospective andpresent therapists available on ATP's Web site (http://www.atprehab.com) all help hiscause.

When you don't have financial backing (at some point, hewould love to secure $250,000 to $500,000 worth), the owner alsohas to make sacrifices. "My salary fluctuates," Ted says."I'm always the last one to get paid. I pay all myexpenses first, then I pay my therapists [therapists' wageshave decreased by about 20 percent since 1997], and then I paymyself. If referrals are down, I may need to cut back when I getpaid."

But you'll never see the day when ATP gives quickie serviceto increase profits. "We call them `shake and bake'outpatient facilities," says Ted. "They'll doanything as cheap as possible, so they can pocket the rest. ATP isnot about that. We may go out of business as a result of thatphilosophy, but I think people will start to recognize quality careis more important."

Because the health-care industry is "such a volatilefield," Ted has diversified more than his company'sservices-which earlier this year entered the health andwellness arena with offerings like yoga and therapeutic massage,and may also add T'ai Chi and nutrition counseling. To addanother revenue stream, he founded AptBilling LLC, a medicalbilling practice management company, with ATP's chief financialofficer, Lynda Taylor, this past November. And he's partneringwith Jacquelyn, 29 (also an independent kitchen consultant with ThePampered Chef), on two new ventures: a therapy-supply e-commercecompany and an assisted technology company geared toward the blindand deaf, inspired by their son Jack Grier, who is blind as aresult of osteopetrosis.

Expanding statewide is this year's goal, but facilitatingindependence, be it for himself, his family (Spencer and Jack Grierare doing well), his patients or his therapists, has always beenTed's main goal. A family man who's "just figuring outhow to be an BIZ Experiences in this type of setting" (and whooften works 60- to 70-hour weeks to do so), he helps contractedtherapists set up home offices and seek autonomy-even thoughthey really work for him. "I try to show them they can take abedroom or a corner, set up a computer and a fax line, and have ahomebased business just like I did," he says. "I'mkeeping the BIZ Experiencesial spirit alive."

"I'll Take Those Odds."

No business is a guaranteed success. As BIZ Experiencess, you facenot only financial peril, but also stress that would put most9-to-5ers out of business-and not all of you make it. Ofcourse, the greater the odds, the greater the payoff, and these arethe stories of those of you who prove it.

The Matchup

The Ents: Ted Langdon was on the path to medical schoolto study sports medicine when someone suggested getting a physicaltherapist assistant license. The money was so good, he took it tothe next level: his own business. But his timing couldn't havebeen worse.

vs. The Odds: Medicare cuts resulting from the BalancedBudget Act of 1997 not only damaged Ted'scontract-rehabilitation business early on-it landed thecompany in subpoena-land, where it had to try to squeeze paymentfrom near-extinct businesses.

"I'm just trying to ride the wave before we have awipeout." Ted Langdon

The Outcome

By diversifying his company's services and spreading out tosupplementary businesses, Langdon conquered the fate of the fallenhealth-care agencies around him and will have $750,000 in salesthis year to show for it.