How to Find a Hotel Doctor

Getting sick in a hotel far from home is miserable enough; you shouldn’t have to scramble for help. Here’s the best strategy.

1. Ask a hotel employee.

This often succeeds, but you may see him scratch his head. ‘... St. Mary’s is the nearest emergency room. Take Seventh Avenue about a mile, then...’ 

Ask others. Relations with the ‘house doctor’ are informal. He or she is never a hotel employee, and many on the staff are unaware of such a person. ‘You’re our doctor?  I didn’t know we had a doctor...’ is a comment I hear at hotels I’ve visited for years.

2. Ask the manager.

Every manager knows hotel doctors although you’ll often hear: ‘I’m sorry but we can’t recommend anyone.’ You are encountering one consequence of today’s malpractice crisis. The hotel’s lawyer has assumed (correctly) that a guest who sues the doctor will also sue the hotel that recommended him, so the lawyer has forbidden the staff to name anyone. When a manager clams up, you have four choices.

A. Demand a doctor and keep demanding.

Occasionally I visit an assertive guest who has refused to take no for an answer. I introduce myself to the manager afterwards, but he or she invariably insists that this was an exception, and the hotel can never, never mention my name.

B. Phone another hotel and ask for its doctor.

All luxury hotels (Four Seasons, Ritz-Carlton, Peninsula) have doctors; popular chains (Hilton, Holiday Inn, Hyatt, Ramada) are unpredictable, but the larger the hotel, the more likely you’ll succeed.

C. Phone a national house call service.

All claim to operate nationwide, but they’re a crapshoot if no moonlighter happens to be available. Some names to Google are Expressdoc, Standby MD, Inn-House Doctors, Hoteldocs. Their fee not only pays the doctor but the organization, so it can take your breath away. Ask how much and then ask for the extras because the meter starts running as soon as he walks through the door. I’m pretty sure I’m the only hotel doctor who charges a flat fee.

D. Call your family doctor.

The law requires that a doctor be available to patients. You should reach the doctor or someone covering. If not, complain to your state medical board.

What about insurance? Specific travel insurance pays for almost everything, and it’s cheaper than you think. Traditional health insurance may pay a fraction or apply it to your deductible. HMO’s are variable. All claim to cover emergencies, but they look skeptically on house calls. I hate to give advice no one takes, but  here goes: read your policy.

A Dog-Eat-Dog Business...again

Waiting at the local carwash, my eye ran over a sheet of ads along one wall. Among notices for personal injury lawyers, pest control, acupuncturists, and pizzas was a photo of a smiling young man in a white coat carrying a doctor’s bag. According to the text, a phone call would bring him to your door at a fee less than an emergency room’s. All ads for housecalls deliver this cheerful boast, never mentioning that the average ER visit has passed $1500.    

My first instinct was to chuckle at the waste of money. Few customers at a carwash will pay the going rate for a housecall. My second instinct was to worry. This fellow was ambitious. His web site features the same photograph plus testimonials from rating sites such as Yelp describing him as a healer of Christ-like compassion.

My third instinct was to recall a visit to Le Petite Hermitage, a small boutique hotel off the Sunset Strip. The guest had spoken to this doctor the day before, decided against a visit, and expressed pleasure at finding me and my lower fee. Since Le Petite Hermitage was a regular, I assumed he’d gotten the name from the internet. Now I’m not so sure because this occurred early in the year, and hotel hasn’t called since.

In large hotels employees know me by sight and take for granted, even without an official announcement, that I’m the official doctor. Since it has only 80 rooms, I may not visit Le Petite Hermitage for months at a time, so I’m not a familiar face. As a result, when an entrepreneurial physician makes an appearance to extol the benefits of his service including, perhaps, an amenity for the employee who refers a guest, he makes an impression.

Goose Chases

I knocked at room 777 of the Hyatt Regency, downtown. The guest who answered denied calling a doctor.

Did I get the room number wrong? It’s happened, but this seemed unlikely. Did I get the hotel wrong? There is only one Hyatt Regency in Los Angeles but many Hyatts. The only one that calls regularly is at the airport. I phoned. Sure enough, room 777 at the Airport Hyatt wanted a doctor.

“You’re at the Hyatt,” I said. “Why did you say you were at the Hyatt Regency?”

“Aren’t they the same?”

They aren’t. I drove the fifteen miles to the airport and took care of him.