Vomiters Hate Waiting

A hotel guest phoned to ask when I’d arrive.

“In about fifteen minutes.”

On her initial call, I had told her I would arrive in an hour, and I was on schedule, so the call meant that she was still vomiting. Vomiters are impatient.

My database shows 2,328 entries for “gastroenteritis” (the common stomach flu). It’s my second leading diagnosis and far more satisfying than “upper respiratory infection” (4,584). Both are almost always incurable, but gastroenteritis rarely lasts more than a day; patients give me credit when it goes away.

The guest greeted me at the door, a good sign. A guest in bed is OK, sprawled on the bathroom floor is not good.

I asked the usual questions and did not interrupt as she delivered a precise, item by item, account of dinner. Everyone blames an upset stomach on their last meal, a belief as correct as most popular health beliefs. I gave the usual advice which included telling her to stop what she was doing (putting fluid into her stomach as fast as it came out) and to suck on ice and wait.

I gave the usual antivomiting injection and two packets of pills which I had pocketed before leaving so I wouldn’t have to remember to restock my bag.

When I phoned later, she told me that she had recovered and thanked me for curing her.

 

 

Another Easy Visit

 I drove to Glendale to care for an elderly Argentine lady who had been vomiting. That can be a tricky problem in an old person, but she was recovering, so I felt comfortable leaving her with advice and medication.

During the visit, I had the experience of listening to someone with a thick Spanish accent denounce Mexicans. She had eaten in a Mexican restaurant and was certain the spicy food made her ill. Argentina is a country with extensive cattle ranches and a largely meat and potatoes diet. 

Tricky Problems

 It upsets me to collect a fee and then send a patient to a clinic or emergency room for care I can’t provide in a housecall. I try to anticipate these.

Many guests phone after a painful accident, hoping I can do an exam and tell them whether or not they have a fracture. Sadly, unless it’s visible to the naked eye, I can’t. It turns out that medical science does little for broken toes, ribs, or noses, and most common fractures (arms, wrist, hand, finger, foot, ankle) are not emergencies. If a guest is willing to wait till office hours, I can make them an appointment with an orthopedist.

Upset stomachs make up the second most common ailment that I hear about. These usually don’t last long, and I carry medicines that help. Stoics often prefer to wait. This is not unreasonable, but the longer symptoms – usually vomiting – last, the less likely that medicine will help. After about a day of vomiting this becomes so unlikely that I send the guest to where they can receive IV fluids.

Abdominal pain is usually benign in a young person but less so as the years pass, and it’s tricky. Entire books have been written on it. I recommend the shortest:  Early Diagnosis of the Acute Abdomen by Zachary Cope, a British surgeon. He wrote it in 1921, and revised it every few years till he died in 1971. 

You can download it free. He’s a droll and witty writer, easy for laymen to understand.

Another Spiked Drink

 It was one a.m. as I drove Santa Monica Boulevard, but crowds packed the sidewalks in West Hollywood, lining up to hear the latest band. A few blocks beyond, I parked at the Ramada.

A guest led me to the bathroom where her companion lay in the empty tub, clutching a towel and moaning. This was not the first time I cared for a patient in a bathtub or even the tenth.

“We’ve been out drinking,” explained the guest. “But not more than usual, and she didn’t have more than me. Do you think they put something in her drink?”

This was not the first time I heard that – or the tenth. I’m puzzled at how often guests suspect foul play when someone becomes violently ill after drinking.

I examined the patient as best I could without moving her because she insisted she could not move. Afterward I explained that alcohol is a toxin that messes up the brain, usually in pleasant ways but occasionally not. After delivering medication for vomiting, I told her to suck on ice chips and phone if she wasn’t better in a few hours. So far everyone has recovered.     

A Doctor Gets Sick

Years ago I suffered a stomach virus, not a serious illness but unpleasant. I was resting after a night of vomiting when the Beverly Garland called. I could have stalled or asked a colleague to make the visit, but symptoms were improving.

I had not entirely recovered, so my wife agreed to drive. As we approached the hotel, my nausea returned. It grew intense by the time the guest opened his door.

I remain proud of delivering an Academy Award-worthy performance, sitting quietly, focusing entirely on the guest, not hurrying, providing sympathy, advice, and medication as well as collecting my fee.

As soon as the door closed behind me, I dived into the nearest rest room and resumed vomiting. Several guests entered, saw my distress, and fled. But I got better. Most sick people get better.

Green Is Not a Big Deal

One mystery I’ve never solved is why patients worry about green bodily fluids.

Guests with a cough tell me that they wouldn’t have called if their mucus hadn’t turned green. In fact, in an otherwise healthy person, green mucus is rarely a serious sign. Ditto for yellow. Everyone’s respiratory tract produces a quart of mucus a day. When it’s irritated, it produces more, and it can change color.

If you vomit on an empty stomach you might see bile which is green. This has no great significance. Many patients believe that they shouldn’t vomit if their stomach is empty, so something ominous is happening. This is not so. The signal to vomit comes from your brain, not your stomach.

Patients with diarrhea often save it in the toilet for my examination. I consider it bad manners to refuse to look, but normal stool can turn green.

There are exceptions. Blood from these orifices is never normal, so it’s OK to show me. If your stool or vomitus is black – pitch black, never dark brown – that’s usually bleeding.

A good rule (although my lawyer insists that I add that plenty of exceptions exist) is that you should see a doctor if you feel bad. If you don’t feel bad, it’s probably not necessary. Don’t pay too much attention to green stuff.

My Favorite Infections

Number one is urine infections in women, because I quickly make them go away. Handing over a packet of antibiotics, I assure someone who has been running to the bathroom every half hour that she’ll feel better by the next morning. In men, urine infections are usually prostate infections; these resolve slowly.

Eye infections (“pinkeye,” conjunctivitis) go away quickly after we prescribe antibiotic drops because most conjunctivitis goes away quickly whether or not antibiotics help (mostly they don’t). Everyone with a pink eye assumes they need eye drops, and doctors are happy to oblige, so we find these satisfying to treat.

Some intestinal infections respond to antibiotics but almost all occur in poor parts of the world. They’re rare in the US where vomiting and diarrhea is usually a “stomach virus” and short-lived.   

Amazingly, experts debate whether antibiotics help ear infections. Doctors in many nations don’t prescribe them, but Americans do. Patients give us credit when they get better. We like that.

Don't Get On the Plane!

“My flight leaves tonight” is a phrase I like to hear because it means the guest will return to the care of the family doctor. Until then he or she is my responsibility. Now and then, I don’t like to hear it. 

A guest awoke feeling well but soon noticed some abdominal pain.

When I hear “abdominal pain” I ask about vomiting and/or diarrhea and hope it’s present. That points to a stomach virus, usually a short-lived and not very serious problem.

Abdominal pain alone can mean a stomach virus, but I also consider serious conditions (gallstones, diverticulitis) and potentially fatal ones (ectopic pregnancy, blood clots). I prefer to send these guests directly to an emergency room, but sometimes I end up at the hotel.

This guest considered my question before deciding that he had diarrhea. Maybe… My abdominal examination turned up nothing requiring urgent attention. He was young, so several life-threatening problems were unlikely. The pain itself was unpleasant but not quite excruciating.

It was a difficult decision, but doctors are paid generously to make difficult decisions.

I told him that he probably had a stomach virus, but I couldn’t rule out something serious. I would give him something for the diarrhea and check back. I added that he might need some tests and that he must not get on the plane if the pain persisted.

When I phoned after three hours, he had checked out.

I'm Not in It For the Money

The phone rang at 3:30 a.m. An airline pilot at the Costa Mesa Hilton needed a doctor, explained the caller. Could I go?

That Hilton is 46 miles away, but I drive there regularly for an agency that provides medical care to foreign airline crew when they lay over (American crew are on their own). It’s an easy drive at this hour. I accepted for several seconds until I woke up and remembered that the 405 freeway closes at the Orange County border during the wee hours for major construction. Despite the hour, closing the freeway produces an immense backup, and the detour through city streets is slow and tedious. Forced to go, I take a different freeway which is ten miles longer and only slightly less tedious.

I was in luck. Wee-hour patients usually suffer intense symptoms such as vomiting; they don’t like to wait. This guest had a cold and didn’t object to a visit later that morning.

I breathed a sigh of relief and went back to sleep. The delay would cost me $150 because the agency pays less for daytime housecalls, but it was worth it.

Making the Doctor Feel Bad

If a prescription gave you diarrhea or made you vomit, you would complain. But until well into the twentieth century, people looked on a good “purge” as an excellent way to expel toxins. Physicians took pride in their cathartics, and when patients discussed a doctor’s skill, they gave high marks for the violence of his purges.

People who consult a doctor expect him to behave in certain ways. 21^st century Americans frown upon purges, but this is not a mark of superiority because we seem to expect medicine. It should be one only a doctor can prescribe; over-the-counter drugs don’t count. Pills are good; an injection works better.

Most of you will deny expecting medicine whenever you see a doctor. You want help. If you’ll get well without medicine, you won’t be upset… I often encounter such patients, but the other sort turns up regularly. I’m slower to prescribe than most, so I have many opportunities to see disappointment in patients’ eyes when they realize I don’t plan to “give them something.” This makes me feel bad.

Doctors genuinely want to help you, and it depresses us when we can’t. We also feel bad when we’ve done our best, and you don’t feel “helped.” So we often add a prescription or order a test to convince you that we’re doing what a proper doctor should do.

Laborl Day

Everyone left town for the holiday including the local concierge doctors and at least one colleague, but plenty of travelers arrived, so I was busy.

A Virgin-Australia flight attendant was vomiting at the Warner Center Marriott twenty miles to the northwest. That midnight an Emirate Airline crewlady suffered the same symptom at the Hilton in Costa Mesa fifty miles southeast. My heart sank when I remembered that the freeway to Costa Mesa in Orange County closes from 11 p.m. to 5 a.m. for major construction, and the long detour is always jammed despite the wee hour. My heart leaped when, checking traffic, I learned that the shutdown was suspended for the holiday.  

The parade of upset stomachs continued at a home near the beach in Venice. This is a funky area that brings back memories because my wife lived there when I met her during the Ford administration. It’s packed with small houses and shops built before World War I, so no one has a garage. Everyone parks on the street, and on a holiday afternoon the beaches and shops are crowded. The rule on parking (like the rule on difficult spinal taps) is: keep trying. After fifteen minutes I found a spot less than half a mile away. 

How Much Does an Emergency Room Cost?

A lady had been vomiting for three days. She had felt better that morning but then relapsed. She sounded weary.

This was tricky. Stomach viruses are the second leading ailment a hotel doctor encounters. I consider them good visits because they rarely last more than a day. I deliver advice as well as an injection and pills. The guest recovers and gives me the credit.

When vomiting persists, doctors worry about more ominous digestive disorders. Worse, three days of vomiting produces some dehydration. This is not dangerous in a healthy person, but drugs don’t work well in its presence and recovery slows. Victims perk up when dehydration is relieved. 

I explained that it was probably too late for a house call. She needed intravenous fluids. After agreeing to go to the local emergency room, she mentioned that she was Canadian and had no travel insurance. I repeated that she should go.

I’ve found that it’s a bad idea to tell guests to go to an ER and then tell them how much it might cost.

My restraint was in vain because she googled the subject, perhaps turning up http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/02/how-much-does-it-cost-to-go-to-the-er/273599/ to read that the average was over $2,000. Giving IVs would take hours and cost extra.

When I called the hotel that evening, I learned that she hadn’t gone, and she was still ill. She admitted that the cost had shocked her. I sympathized but told her she had no choice.

When I called later to reinforce this advice, there was no answer. When I called the following morning, she had checked out.

The Most Difficult Calls

I stopped chopping an onion when the phone rang. A young man at the Airport Hilton was vomiting.

For a hotel doctor, a difficult call refers not to an illness but to traffic conditions. It was four o’clock, so I would drive eight miles both ways during the freeway rush hour, returning hungry and with no dinner prepared. I delay some visits but not for acutely miserable symptoms.

Before I left, the phone rang again. I yearned to hear that it was another airport hotel, but the guest was downtown, fifteen miles in the opposite direction. Worse, she had a migraine, so I couldn’t delay.

Delivering medical care is sometimes challenging. Always challenging and the mark of a seasoned hotel doctor is the ability to remain serene in gridlock.

Certain rules apply. Unless lanes are closed, leaving the freeway for city streets is a bad idea. Another rule is that blocking a lane at any hour stops traffic cold. Steady movement, however slow, is simply a sign of congestion.

“I wonder if there’s an accident,” I thought a dozen times after several minutes of immobility, but I never saw one. So much for rules.

Two housecalls which normally take two hours took four and a half, but I maintained my serenity, sucking on the hard candy I bring along to dull my hunger and listening to a novel on my CD.

An Untypical Case of Stomach Flu

I once cared for a Fiji Airline flight attendant suffering stomach flu. These are miserable episodes of cramps, vomiting, and diarrhea that rarely last long. She was better the following day, but on that day I returned to the hotel to see another flight attendant with similar symptoms.

In the hotel room, I repeated my stomach flu exam, delivered the usual advice, and handing over medication. She asked if the medication was safe if she were pregnant.

Doctors are human. Having made a diagnosis, my inclination was to stick to it, but I asked a few questions. Her period was overdue. She admitted that her nausea, although worse today, had begun a week ago. Her cramps, also worse today, had also been present.

One of many rules medical students learn is that when a young woman has abdominal pain, one always considers an ectopic pregnancy. That’s usually a pregnancy in the fallopian tube which, unlike the womb, had no room for the growing fetus.

I told the flight attendant that she needed a test to see if she had an ectopic pregnancy which is an emergency. She did not disagree. I phoned the agency that handles airline crew. Their medical department agreed that this was appropriate, and it turned out positive.

Easy Visits, Mostly

Every day a thousand airline flight crew spend the night in a Los Angeles hotel. Sometimes they get sick and call their supervisor. If they’re American, he tells them to take their American medical insurance and find a clinic. If they’re foreign, he tells them to stay put and wait for the doctor.

That will probably be me. I average half a dozen of these visits per month. I enjoy them because airline crew are young and healthy. Three-quarters suffer respiratory infections and upset stomachs. Since a doctor must certify if they’re fit to fly, I see plenty of ordinary colds.

A minor drawback is two pages of forms to fill out in addition to my medical record. A more serious problem is vomiting: the most common symptom. I hate driving during the rush hour, but vomiters don’t like to wait, so I often find myself creeping on the freeway.

Another Freebie

A guest at the Georgian hotel in Santa Monica wanted a housecall, said the desk clerk. She had a urine infection.

That was good news. The Georgian was not far, and urine infections are easy.

“The guest has gone to dinner,” the clerk added. “She’d like you to come at 9 o’clock.”

I hate it when hotels make an appointment without consulting me. I want to talk to guests before a visit. They need to know how much I charge and that they’ll have to pay directly. Learning this, some guests reconsider. A few guests assume the doctor is in the hotel, so it’s no big deal if they’re late or decide to skip the consultation entirely. Finally, it’s stressful to kill time at home, hoping another call doesn’t arrive to complicate matters.

Sure enough, at 8:30, as I was about to leave, the phone rang. A guest at the Airport Hilton was vomiting. Vomiters don’t like to wait. There was no way to contact the Georgian guest to suggest a delay, but I decided I could make the visit and reach the Hilton in an hour. I hurried off.

Freeway traffic stopped cold at my exit. Santa Monica was holding an arts festival. The streets were jammed.  Normally, I would park and walk the six blocks to the hotel, but this would make me outrageously late for the poor vomiter at the Hilton.

Guests usually agree to wait when I explain the problem. The Georgian guest was back in her room.

“I just flew in from London. There’s no way I can stay awake,” she said on hearing that I’d like to return later that evening.

In the end, I phoned a prescription for a urine infection into a nearby pharmacy and then drove to the airport.

Easy Visits, More or Less

My phone rang as I walked into the gym. A guest at the Sunset Plaza wanted a doctor to “check out” her 9 year-old daughter who’d awoken with a fever and vomited once. This was a good call. Multiple vomits can be worrisome, but one is OK. I jumped at the chance to skip my morning exercise.

Sunset Plaza parking is indoors and free, a bonus on a hot day and on the Sunset Strip where street parking is impossible. The daughter was recovering, so I reassured the parents, a pleasure for everyone.

As I returned to my car, the phone rang again. This was a perfect time for a second call. Lunch was two hours away. Late morning traffic is the day’s thinnest. I could thrill the guest by announcing a speedy arrival.

The caller was a national housecall service. The patient was a Quantas flight attendant at the Hilton. While there is a Hilton at Los Angeles airport, this one was in Costa Mesa, 45 miles away. This was not so good, but there were compensations.

As I’ve written, in the old days airlines called me directly, and I billed them directly. No airline does that now. They call a national housecall service which, of course, calls me. I’m happy to work for the service because, being a better marketer, it’s acquired far more airlines, so I receive more calls. It also pays much more. This is possible because it charges airlines triple my former fee. You may wonder why airlines are willing to pay so much more, but I don’t. I’ve long since stopped believing that bad decisions by people who seem intelligent have a good explanation.  

We Yearn to Help

If a prescription gave you diarrhea or made you vomit, you might complain. But until well into the twentieth century, the average American looked on a good “purge” as a way to expel disease. Physicians took pride in their cathartics, and when patients discussed a doctor’s skill, they gave high marks for the violence of his purges.

Nowadays Americans frown upon purging, but we seem to expect a medicine. It should be one only a doctor can prescribe; over-the-counter drugs don’t count. Pills are good, but an injection is better. Of course, modern drugs often work, but this is a minor matter compared to the deep human desire that a doctor do something.

I apologize if this sounds mildly insulting; I suspect most of you will deny expecting a drug. You want whatever will help. If nothing will help, you want to know.

Such sensible patients do appear, but no day passes when I don’t see disappointment in a patient’s eyes when he or she realizes I don’t plan to “give them something.” 

Doctors genuinely want to help you, and we feel bad when we can’t. We also feel bad when we do our best, and it’s obvious a patient doesn’t feel “helped.” So many of us add a prescription to convince you that we’re doing what a proper doctor should do.

I Prefer Vomiting and Diarrhea

Two women at the Holiday Inn were ill. The mother suffered low abdominal pain with vomiting and diarrhea. It seemed like the usual stomach flu. I assured her it wouldn’t last long and gave medication.

Her adult daughter also complained of low abdominal pain but without other symptoms. Viral gastroenteritis can occur without vomiting or diarrhea, but I feel reassured when they’re present. It’s a good rule that when two members of a family are ill at the same time, it’s the same illness, but no rule is absolute.

The problem is that isolated low abdominal pain in a young woman can indicate an urgent problem such as ectopic pregnancy or twisted ovary. This seemed unlikely, but I couldn’t rule it out. If she weren’t better in a few hours, I explained, she must go to the local emergency room. She did not object.

When I phoned a few hours later, the mother’s symptoms had vanished, and the daughter told me she felt a little better. Patient tend to tell doctors what they believe we want to hear, so “…a little better,” does not reassure me. Pressed, she admitted that she wasn’t feeling better. When urged to go to the emergency room, she worried about her lack of insurance and the late hour but promised to give it serious consideration.

I passed a restless night. When I phoned the next morning, she had recovered.

A Visit to a Youth Hostel

I answered a call from a woman at a youth hostel suffering stomach virus.

Wearing a bathrobe and looking off-color, she met me in the lobby. I followed her through a large, open-air restaurant which, although it was midnight, echoed with chatter from a youthful clientele.

She opened a door into one of the dormitories, half a dozen connected rooms crammed with bunk beds. There were no chairs, tables, or dressers, and the communal bathroom was off a distant room. Clothes and luggage littered the floor. The only difference from a male dormitory was absence of the smell of unwashed bodies.

Most beds were occupied; the inhabitants stirred when we turned on the light but did not complain. Since the patient slept in an upper bunk, I had to perform my examination while she lay on the floor, but one occupant moved aside so she could lean over for an injection.