I drove to care for a woman with a respiratory infection at the
Georgian, a boutique beach hotel in Santa Monica. My phone rang as I pulled up
at the entrance. The caller was JI, a Japanese travel insurance agency with a
patient in a downtown hotel. Ten o’clock is perfect for driving downtown.
Freeway traffic dips until noon when it begins a steady climb toward the
evening rush.
“I can be there within the hour,” I said only to hear that the patient
wanted someone between 4 and 6. I explained that people don’t realize how
quickly I arrive. I could be there in 45 minutes. She checked but informed me
that the guest wanted to go on a tour. Disappointed, I agreed to arrive at 4, a
very inconvenient hour.
The phone rang soon after I returned home, a lady at the airport Westin
whose husband was coughing. Did I accept Blue Cross? I didn’t. American
insurance pays skimpily for a housecall, and billing requires skill and
patience; foreign insurers do better. I gave directions to a walk-in clinic a
mile away. Many Americans decide that paying for a housecall is preferable; she
assured me she’d call back if she wanted a visit.
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