A Wee-Hour Call

Two nights ago the phone rang at 3 a.m. An insurance agency wanted me to see a client with a sore throat at the Torrance Residence Inn. At 8:30 the following morning.

“Why did the agency call now?” I asked.

“I don’t know. They hung up.”

The operator gave me the patient’s information. The Torrance Residence Inn is fifteen miles away. I do not like long drives during the rush hour, so this was already a problem visit. If I went back to bed, I’d probably lay awake and fume.

Patients who phone for my services during the wee hours usually feel bad, so I took a chance and called the hotel. The guest was awake and feeling very bad. When I told her I could be there in 45 minutes, she was amenable. I threw on my clothes. The drive was easy. I gave her the necessary medicines. Everyone was satisfied.      

Another Wee-Hour Call

It was midnight when the phone woke me. An Emirate flight attendant at the Hilton in Costa Mesa needed a doctor.

That Hilton is in Orange County, a 46 mile drive. The agency that serves airline crew has an Orange County doctor but calls me when she doesn’t respond.

After I’d dressed and filled out the necessary forms, the phone rang again. The Orange County doctor had checked in and wanted to make the visit. Was that OK?... 
 
I’d received a similar call last month when I was already on the freeway. At that time, when the agency announced that my visit was cancelled, I made a fuss, so it promised not to do that again.

Did I want to spend two hours driving plus twenty minutes delivering medical care in the middle of the night? I boast that, not having an office, I can sleep late, but I enjoy getting up early to write. In any case, my body automatically wakes at the same time.

Returning to my cozy bed seemed extremely attractive; I gave my consent.

As soon as I hung up, I remembered that the agency pays generously for long drives in the wee hours. That thought gave me a touch of insomnia, so I still passed a sleepy morning.