Paying My Fee

It’s less than the going rate, but no one considers it cheap.

When guests phone, I focus on their problems. Half the time, a housecall isn’t necessary. Once we’ve agreed that I should come, I mention the fee. About ten percent of callers reconsider, but almost no one does so directly. I hear….

“Let me talk to my husband and get back to you.”

“Our tour leaves in half an hour. I’ll call when we’re back and set up the appointment.”

“I’m going to try to ride this out, but I’ll let you know.”

“I need to check with my insurance.”

All doctors maintain that they never turn away a patient unable to pay. This is not an actual lie - provided we’re the ones who decide who’s unable.

I’m generous with guests from motels and youth hostels who are clearly not affluent, but plenty of callers are paying a daily hotel bill well in excess of mine. They object to my fee just as they hesitate at $5.00 coffee at Starbucks or $200 for an orchestra seat at a hit play. They know that $1.00 coffee at McDonalds or a $50 balcony seat provides a similar experience, more or less. I direct them to urgent-care clinics that accomplish this.

Hotel Doctor to the Stars

Now and then an agent expresses interest in my memoirs.

You don’t think I have memoirs?... I’ve been hotel doctoring since the 1980s, and I had literary ambitions long before. My proposal has been making the rounds for decades, and agents often respond. Our conversation always covers the same ground.

“‘Memoirs of a Los Angeles hotel doctor.’ That’s a great idea! It sounds like you’ve seen celebrities.”

“A few.”

“Did you see Michael Jackson?”

“Many hotel doctors saw Michael Jackson.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Doctors can’t do that.”

That ends the conversation. I suspect agents dislike hearing that my memoirs don’t discuss famous people, even those who’ve died. It’s correct that you can’t libel the dead, but you can anger surviving loved-ones; they’ve been known to sue. 

My book proposal continues to make the rounds, but it’s possible that you will be my only audience.

Cancelling a Housecall

A guest at the Doubletree wanted a doctor to examine his son’s ear. I was getting in my car five minutes later when the phone rang again.

“I’m really sorry,” said the guest. “The hotel called another doctor, and he’s on his way, so we have to cancel.” That was a shock. The Doubletree is a regular. Was another doctor poaching? This is not a rare occurrence.

I asked the doctor’s name. The guest wasn’t certain. What was his phone number? He didn’t know. I phoned the hotel. The operator assured me that she had given out my number and no one else’s.

To my relief, I realized that the guest had simply changed his mind and wanted to cancel. He assumed that a blunt cancellation would upset me, so he invented an excuse – not realizing that the excuse was more upsetting.

Why I Hate Appointments

“We have two guests with a cough and sore throat, but they’re at a conference. They’d like you to come at three.” This news arrived at nine a.m.

I love seeing two patients at the same time, but I prefer going immediately. Things happen if I wait….

 “No one asked for a doctor,” said the person who answered the door. Shown the names, he recognized them but added that they were at a meeting. He phoned and reported that they had lost track of time but would hurry back. Their conference was at a university five miles away. Their transportation was by city bus. 

I didn’t want to wait, but I have an exalted view of the medical profession. We are humanitarians, a superior breed.

All doctors agree but many feel that if they’re treated with disrespect (by the government, insurance companies, or a discourteous patient), their humanitarian obligations vanish, and they’re free to become jerks (google “concierge doctor”).

After weighing my options and taking no pleasure, I drove to the university, picked them up, drove back to the hotel, and performed my exam.

The Superiority of Alternative Medicine

At the Ramada, I cared for a lady whose eyes were red and itchy. She had no allergies, and I saw no evidence of an infection. I suspected something was irritating them, and she had been using several over-the-counter eye-drops. Drops themselves can irritate eyes, especially with persistent use, so I told her to stop.

No eye drops for an eye problem?.... She looked uneasy at this suggestion, so I left a bottle of antibiotic drops but told her to call in two days if she still felt bad and wanted to use them. This is another occasion why so many patients prefer alternative medical practitioners (herbalists, nutritionists, acupuncturists…). No alternative healer tells a patient: “Don’t do anything. This will go away.” There’s always a treatment.

Security Hell

I’ve been to Park La Brea Towers a dozen times. Navigating its maze of twisting private streets, tall apartments, and rows of bungalows is not exactly a nightmare but always difficult.

It was after midnight, so the drive passed quickly but a barrier blocked my entrance. For security purposes, Park La Brea restricts access during wee hours. I drove until I found a barrier with a kiosk and a security officer. 

Another car was ahead of me. Checking out visitors turned out to be no minor matter, so several minutes passed before the officer handed the driver a pass and waved him in. I pulled forward only to encounter a problem. My patient was visiting, so her name was not on the list of residents, and there was no answer when the officer phoned. Nervous about speaking English, foreign guests often don’t answer.

He explained that regulations did not permit my entry. The sight of my doctor bag, suit, tie, and elderly appearance did not change his mind, but he assured me that his supervisor had been summoned. I parked behind the kiosk and waited. The supervisor never appeared.

My patience exhausted, I phoned the travel insurance office in Miami to warn that I might have to return home. Urging me to wait, the dispatcher contacted the lady on her Brazilian cell phone. Eventually, she contacted the security officer and vouched for me.

Describing the pleasures of wee-hour visits, I always mention easy parking. This applies everywhere except large apartment complexes where everyone and their guests are at home, so all spaces are occupied. After a long search, I parked illegally.

Doing My Duty

“I can’t handle that in a hotel room,” I explained. “She probably needs an ultrasound.”

After consulting his superior, the dispatcher came back on the line to explain that he would like me to evaluate the guest, a flight attendant with abdominal pain and vaginal bleeding, and deliver a recommendation.

If the guest had called directly, I would have sent her to an emergency room or, during the day, to an obstetrician, but this request came from an agency that serves airline crew. It was paying the bill, and I had done my duty by warning that a housecall wasn’t appropriate. I was happy to make the visit. Once I confirmed her symptoms. I would simply call and report, and then send my bill.

A young man opened the door. I entered, expecting to see a girl friend or wife, but he was alone, and he identified himself as the patient. He had a sore throat.

I checked the name and date of birth on my invoice. It was identical. He spoke excellent English, so there was no chance of a misunderstanding.

After dealing with his problem, I phoned the agency. Was there another flight attendant with vaginal bleeding waiting for me? After a long consultation, he assured me that no one knew. It was probably a mistake.