Long Time No See

 Hey, Doctor! It’s been a while.”

I love it when parking valets recognize me. That was the good news. The ‘it’s been a while’ was not so good. This was my first visit of the year to Le Parc, an upscale West Hollywood hotel. It was once a regular, calling 20 to 40 times per year since 1993.

Hotel doctoring is viciously competitive, and another doctor had worked his magic. But hope springs eternal; hotels occasionally realize their mistake and return to the fold. Maybe this was a sign.

The guest had injured her leg five days earlier. X-rays in an emergency room were negative, but since yesterday her pain had worsened. I didn’t find anything abnormal except for a huge black-and-blue mark. This may have been normal healing, but she needed another X-ray.

“Doctor O! How’s business!” The desk clerk also recognized me. When I ask why a hotel has stopped calling, employees always respond that no one has been sick, so I’ve stopped asking. But I couldn’t resist. The desk clerk assured me that no one had been sick.

Low Back Pain

Finishing at a hairdresser, a guest at a West Hollywood hotel had bent over and thrown out her back. Now she wanted “a shot” so she could stand and get back to the hotel.

I’ve cared for several hundred guests with back pain. These are fairly satisfying visits. I deliver an injection which makes the patient giddy, so time passes more quickly. By the following day, the pain is not so bad. Back pain slowly improves even if not treated.

Hotel guests are already in bed, and that’s where they stay. This lady would have to move, and over the phone I warned that the injection would not make that easier. Powerful narcotics work best against “deep” pain such as a kidney stone or heart attack, not so well when it’s sharp and acute. If I were to give you a huge dose of morphine and then touch a lit match to your fingertip, you’d feel the usual amount of pain. These warnings rarely work, and they didn’t work this time.

Beverly Hills treats residents kindly. For example, parking is much easier than in surrounding Los Angeles. If you’re just passing through, Beverly Hills shows no mercy. Traffic lights along Santa Monica Boulevard change simultaneously, so there’s no hope of getting through even when streets are empty. During the rush hour, traffic proceeds a few streets at a time. I cultivate tranquility, listen to my CD book, focus on the car ahead, and never look at my watch.  

Fortunately, the beauty shop closed at five, so I encountered only the patient, her companions, and a few employees. I examined her and then delivered the shot, gave pain pills for later, and assured her that she’d feel not-so-bad after a night in bed. Groaning and supported by friends, she hobbled off.

Relentless Time

Melrose Avenue is hip and upscale as it passes through West Hollywood. Further east, toward downtown, businesses tend toward pawnbrokers, bodegas, and Kentucky Fried Chicken. At least that’s how I remembered it.

If you live long enough, everything familiar vanishes, and I parked among a chic collection of freshly painted boutiques, restaurants, and fashionable clothing shops. Plus a beautiful new hotel that I’d never heard of.    

It was the Hollywood Historic Hotel, converted from a 1920s apartment a few years ago, I learned from the desk clerk. He insisted that I was the first doctor that had appeared, and he seemed happy accept my card.

Even better, there was no answer when I knocked. Since I’d come at the request of a travel insurer, I’d be paid. I tell the insurer that if the guest wants to drive to my home, I’ll take care of him at no charge. No one has taken me up on it.