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.      

The Pinnacle of Success

Walking toward the entrance of the Viceroy, a luxury Santa Monica hotel, I noticed half a dozen parking valets gathered around their supervisor who was giving instructions. As I passed, he paused and pointed: “Look at him. That’s our hotel doctor. You let him park wherever he wants.”

This happened in July of 2003, but I still remember the pleasure it gave me. When the parking valets grant you a free pass, there are no more worlds to conquer.

My Best Customer

I’m the doctor for scores of Los Angeles hotels, but even the largest (the Bonaventure) rarely generates five visits per month.

National housecall agencies and international travel insurers provide more business. My leading client is Inn House Doctor, a national agency run by an entrepreneur based near Boston. You can google it.

He solicits hotels, including mine, but they are not an important source of business. Since Inn House collects a cut of the fee, guests who call hear a large quote.

Many travel insurers use Inn House Doctor for their clients in America. It would make more sense for them to call me directly, but I earn my usual fee, so I don’t care. I prefer Inn House when guests live far away, because insurers often refuse to pay a larger fee. Inn House understands.

Its biggest clients are foreign airlines who need doctors for sick crew. In the past some airlines called me, but I’m happy to work for Inn House because it handles many more.

I don’t solicit distant hotels, but airlines, always searching for the best deal, may house crew fifty miles from the airport. I make half a dozen very long trips every month, but airline crew make excellent patients – not demanding and rarely very sick.

Free Medical Care

When guests ask my fee, I tell them and then steer the conversation to their problem. Half the time, they don’t need a visit. If so, they’re grateful for the advice, especially after learning that I don’t charge for phone calls. It’s good public relations, but I also don’t like to make a housecall and collect money for a trivial service.

If you google “house call doctor” plenty of eager individuals and national housecall services turn up but not me. None deliver free care, so the caller has the choice of a paying visit or nothing. A doctor (sometimes me if you call a national service) may come, hand over a prescription for a medicine you accidentally left at home, and then collect several hundred dollars.

My Fifteen Minutes of Fame

Every five years or so, the Los Angeles Times discovers the housecall and publishes an enthusiastic article that doesn’t mention me, the nation’s leading housecall doctor.

Another appeared two days ago. As always, I wrote the reporter to point out his error. To my surprise, he phoned yesterday, interviewed me for half an hour, and wrote another article in today’s Times. You can find it at:

http://www.latimes.com/business/hiltzik/la-fi-mh-is-the-house-call-really-dead-20160202-column.html

A Dog-Eat-Dog Business, Part 12

On September 3 I wrote about a new housecall service that charged up to $2000. On September 7 I described one that charged $99. Clearly these are extreme. 

So what about $250? That’s painful but, in a pinch, suffering a stomach virus or bad case of flu, many of you might pay. 

What are the alternatives? Several concierge doctors pop up on a Google search, but they may charge triple this. Veteran Los Angeles hotel doctors visit private houses if asked; they charge around double. Call Heal, the $99 service, if it’s still in business. One side-effect of a low fee is that it pays doctors less than the going rate, so many are residents in training. This does not mean they don’t know their business; in fact, being residents, they take every illness very, very seriously. Of course, you could always ask for Doctor Oppenheim. 

The founder of the $250 service, SOS Doctor Housecall, contacted me first because I already work for her. She is the French lady who sends doctors to Frenchmen in Los Angeles. I mention her in posts from February 28, 2011, September 2, 2014, and January 4, 2015. 

She is putting together her app and hopes to launch soon. If she’s successful, my colleagues will feel the strain, but I’ll be making visits for her.

Be Careful What You Ask For

He had been coughing for several days, a guest explained, adding that he probably needed a Z-pak. When a patient suggests he needs an antibiotic, a doctor feels one of two emotions.

(1) Pleasure because this guarantees an easy visit. Give the antibiotic, and the patient will make it clear that the doctor has done what a good doctor does. I doubt most of you realize the importance of your gratitude. No matter how you try to conceal it, if you’re disappointed, we feel depressed.

(2) Depression. In an otherwise healthy person, the only common illness with a cough that antibiotics cure is bacterial pneumonia which is not common. All others are viral infections. These affect fifteen percent of everyone who consults a doctor, so they are no trivial matter.

Over the phone, I quizzed him about his symptoms and then explained that he was suffering a self-limited illness requiring only over-the-counter remedies. When he insisted that he needed a doctor, I directed him to a nearby urgent care clinic where he would get his antibiotic.