Trying to Reach the Doctor

A three-month old at the Sunset Marquis was vomiting. I care for infants, but vomiting in someone so young is tricky. It would be a cop-out to send the parents to an urgent care clinic, because its doctor would be a G.P. like me – and, by the law of averages, less competent. Emergency room doctors have more skill, but inflicting an ER experience on this guest was overkill. Fortunately, I have a pediatrician colleague who’s helped out in the past.

I phoned his office. A message urged me to call 911 if I had an emergency but otherwise to leave a message. I dialed his cell phone but reached voicemail. It was 10 a.m. on a weekday, so he was in the office. I phoned the office again and hit “zero” to connect me with the answering service who agreed to page him.

After ten minutes, he phoned and agreed to speak to the guest. I phoned the guest half an hour later. No one had called.

I phoned the office and encountered the same rigmarole. Eventually, the pediatrician explained that the guest had been on the phone, so he had left a message. He agreed to call again.

Everything worked out, and the guest was happy.

I don’t understand why I have so much trouble getting doctors to answer the phone.  

A Hotel Doctor's Contract

People ask about my contract with hotels, but there is none. Concierges, operators, and bellmen call because they know me. 

Guests sometimes praise me, and their praise goes to concierges et al. If they decide to complain, usually because I’ve declined to give them something they wanted, they go to the general manager, often galvanizing him into one of several upsetting actions.

Referring the complainer to a competitor is tiresome. Anxious to make a good impression on his first call from Doctor Oppenheim’s hotel, he may relax his standards. 

If the manager consults the hotel lawyer, he always hears that he must never help a sick guest because guests who sue the doctor will also sue the hotel that suggested him. At any given time, about ten percent of hotels are in this my-lips-are-sealed mode, but it’s a changing ten percent because guests persist; employees want to help, and most competing hotels have doctors, so it’s bad public relations. 

Some managers make up a list, instructing staff to hand it to guests but to never recommend an individual. They believe (incorrectly) that this eliminates their liability. The employee who makes up the list mostly confines her research to the internet and in no particular order. As a result, it includes doctors who don’t make housecalls and walk-in clinics with limited hours. Fortunately once the list is made the hotel forgets about it. As years pass, it gradually becomes out-of-date, but my number remains.

Be Careful What You Ask For

“Could you come and give me some penicillin?”

Uh oh.  

The guest had a sore throat. He was fifty years-old. The only throat infection that antibiotics cure is strep, largely a disease of children and adolescents. Strep in a fifty year-old is so rare that I’ve never seen a case.

Doctors who prescribe unnecessary antibiotics claim that patients “demand” them. In fact, after I’ve seen these patients, ninety percent are perfectly happy with good medical care. About ten percent seem puzzled but remember their manners. Only a tiny minority give me a hard time.

But a tiny minority of a minority does not equal zero. Over thirty years, plenty of patients have lost their temper or (in the case of women) burst into tears. While not as mortifying as being sued for malpractice, it’s in the ballpark.

Unlike doctors in an office, I have the advantage of a phone conversation before seeing the patient. If a guest hints that he requires an antibiotic, I discuss his symptoms, suggest that antibiotics might or might not work, and try to gauge the likelihood that he won’t take no for an answer.

In this case, the guest seemed particularly assertive. I didn’t want to take the risk, so I referred him to a local walk-in clinic where he’ll probably get his penicillin.

Converting Two Visits Into No Visits

A man at the Bonaventure was suffering an earache. The pain was not severe and had been present several days, but he wanted it checked. This seemed like an easy visit.

But it was 5:00 on Friday. My traffic app showed a solid red line for the ten mile freeway drive downtown, converting a half-hour trip into… I hated to contemplate it. I explained that I could be at his room between 8 and 9. That was fine with him.

I had barely hung up when the phone rang again. A guest at the Warner Center Hilton had diarrhea. The Hilton is fifteen miles in the opposite direction from the Bonaventure with an equally red freeway. I could have scheduled it for later, but if a third call arrived….

The guest was not terribly ill, so I pointed out that most diarrhea is self-limited. I gave dietary advice and recommended an over-the-counter remedy that was a good as the one I hand out (actually the same), and suggested we talk again in a day. Happy to get free medical advice, he agreed.

At 6:30 the Bonaventure operator called to inform me that the guest wanted to cancel the visit. When I phoned both guests the next day, they were doing fine.