Taking Things Out of an Eye

Few actions bring a hotel doctor more pleasure than removing something from a guest’s eye. Patients have kissed my feet in gratitude.

It’s easy. With one hand, I lay a Q-tip horizontally across the upper lid. With two fingers of the other hand, I grasp the eyelashes and fold the lid back over the Q-tip, exposing its underside. That’s usually where a speck lies. Experts warn never to try to remove something on the eyeball itself, but I’ve never encountered this. 

This agreeable experience doesn’t happen often: thirteen times according to my records. Mostly, guests who think they have something in their eye are suffering a corneal abrasion. This was the case fifty-four times.

The cornea is extremely sensitive; injuries produce intense discomfort, but minor ones heal in a day or two. I prescribed antibiotic drops and an oral pain remedy. Patients yearn for the anesthetic drops I use during the examination, but they damage the eye when used regularly. No doctor should prescribe them.

Disappointment

“A guest needs a doctor. Are you available?”

“I am. If you connect me to his room, I’ll try to help.”

My tone was businesslike, but joy filled my heart. The caller was the Airport Renaissance which never called. Acquiring a competitor’s hotel is a rare and delightful event.

A male voice answered after two rings. “There’s something in my eye.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“It’s no big deal. If you give me tweezers, I’ll take it out myself.”

“You mean it’s visible?”

“There’s a sliver stuck in my eyeball… Don’t tell me to go to a hospital. I’ll sign anything. Come to the room. Or get me tweezers.”

He interrupted my response.

“No hospital! No emergency room! Bring legal documentation to protect your liability. I’ll sign. Come alone. Don’t bring any FBI or CIA.”

I called the concierge to report that this was a matter for the police or paramedics. She admitted that the guest was causing a disturbance.

Sadly, I realized that the Renaissance was not changing doctors. Hotels hate dealing with crazy, drunk, or disruptive guests. When the regular doctor refused to come, the staff, in desperation, began calling other doctors in hopes that one would make the problem go away. This happens once or twice a year.

The Yearning for Drops

“I’ve been using them for a week, and the eye is getting worse.”

Hearing this over the phone, I’m usually not concerned. While there’s always the possibility of severe disease, the odds are that the eyedrops themselves have begun to irritate the eye.

Sure enough, that was my diagnosis. If you see a doctor with an eye problem, he’ll prescribe drops whether or not you need them. Many types of “pinkeye” don’t require treatment, but doctors believe (correctly) that patients with eye problems take for granted that they need drops.

Most people will not argue with a doctor, but it was clear (in retrospect) that the guest didn’t like what he heard. I told him to stop the drops and that the eye would feel better in a few days.

He was thinking:  “I have pinkeye, but this doctor says I don’t need drops. Obviously that’s because he doesn’t know what drops I need. I have to find a smarter doctor.”

When I phoned the next day I learned that he had gone off to an ophthalmologist.

This happened a long time ago. Nowadays I tell guests to use a harmless over-the-counter drop until the eye feels better.

Easy Money, Part 2

“I need an eye doctor,” said the caller. “A big red spot came out this morning!”

The guest added that the eye felt fine. The spot didn’t affect his vision but looked terrible.

I’ve encountered several dozen subconjunctival hemorrhages, a fancy name for a bloody patch on the eyeball. Googling turns up a dozen causes from injuries to coughing, leukemia, high blood pressure, and clotting disorders. In reality, if there are no symptoms and the person is in good health, the blood appears for no reason and disappears in a few weeks. That’s happened in every case I’ve seen, including my own.

The guest was staying at the Mondrian, a luxury hotel. He was in room 500 which I knew was a suite. If he’d been at a cheap motel, I might have been more reassuring, but I confined myself to suggesting he might have a subconjunctival hemorrhage and that this was probably not as serious has he thought. He wanted a visit.

It was, of course, entirely satisfying. I examined the eye, paused thoughtfully, and then assured him that it was a subconjunctival hemorrhage and that he had nothing to worry about. He was thrilled. I collected my fee. Everyone was happy.