Broken Glasses

 An elderly lady gestured me to come in. As I followed, she remained silent, a sign that she spoke no English. If someone doesn’t know “hello” comprehension is generally poor. 

“Portuguese.” she said.  “Speak Spanish?”

When I shook my head, she took up her cell phone. The first number didn’t answer. The second, after a short conversation in Portuguese, proved unfruitful. She continued dialing. She was Brazilian, and most South American travelers have travel insurance. If I phone the insurance agency’s 800 number, someone will interpret. Unfortunately, my call hadn’t come from a travel insurer but a national housecall service, Expressdoc.

I could phone Expressdoc and ask for the agency’s number, but that makes them uncomfortable. Housecalls is a viciously competitive business.

The lady finally found a multilingual friend, and we proceeded with the consultation, passing the phone back and forth. As usual, delivering medical care was the easiest part. She had broken her glasses. She complained of a headache, but it was clear that she wanted a doctor’s note so insurance would pay for a replacement.

 

Whether You Want Me or Not

If you want a housecall in Los Angeles, you’re likely to get me even if you don’t ask for me.

I don’t have a web site, but searching the internet turns up several agencies and a few individuals that promise to send a doctor at a moment’s notice. Many rely on me.

They also solicit hotels. Recently a national housecall service informed me that a guest at the Marina International wanted a doctor. The Marina International is one of my regulars.

After I phoned the guest, he asked me to come. I made a mental calculation before quoting the fee. The housecall service took forty percent, so I added forty percent.

Since those who call directly pay less, you might wonder why hotels don’t make sure guests get the best price. The answer, of course, is that hotels don’t know what doctors charge, nor do they care. Guests regularly ask me, but hotels never do.

Why Don't They Call?

In my experience, a hotel generates approximately one request for a doctor per month for every hundred rooms. My record, in case you’re wondering, is 208 calls in 1995 from the old Century Plaza which had 1076 rooms.

The Airport Hilton has over 1,200 rooms, but I average a dozen calls a year. When I asked the security officer why the hotel called so infrequently he gave the usual wrong answer (“no one’s been sick”). When I asked who they called besides me, he peered down at his desk where, under a sheet of glass lay business cards advertising taxis, masseurs, florists, limousine services, clinics, pharmacies, et al. I saw my card and none from three rival hotel doctors who prefer the area in and around Beverly Hills where luxury hotels concentrate. They occasionally drive the extra ten miles to the airport, but I doubted they were responsible for my shortfall.

My eyes fell on a card from a national housecall service. Several exist, and I made half a dozen visits for this agency but stopped because guests blamed me for the bill.

“Do you know how much these people charge?” I asked. “Eight hundred dollars!” The security officer expressed polite dismay. Guests rarely complain about a doctor’s fee, so he didn’t care.

That’s the problem. Luxury hotels make sure a doctor is available, but many managers at the mid-level give it a low priority, so employees make their own choices when a guest asks for help.

Now and then, mysteriously, the light dawns, and a hotel begins to call regularly. Decades may pass before this happens, and I’m still waiting for the Airport Hilton.