A Contagious Disease

I cared for a flight attendant in an airport hotel suffering a cough, high fever, runny nose, and sore throat. It seemed like the usual upper respiratory infection until I saw the spotty rash over her body. She had measles.

Does that ring a bell?... Measles may be the world’s most contagious disease. If you’re susceptible and enter a room someone with measles passed through hours earlier, you’ll probably catch it.

It’s also nasty. Even today, one or two per thousand victims die and a larger number are left deaf or brain damaged. I grew up before children were vaccinated against most childhood illnesses; we actually caught them. I had measles in 1946 and still remember how sick I felt; my chicken pox and mumps were trivial by comparison.

I informed the airline that a flight attendant fresh from a crowded plane had measles and also told the hotel management. You can imagine the reception.

Burned

A guest in a hotel restaurant asked a waiter to light her cigarette. When he complied, her forefinger burst into flame. She had recently put on acrylic nails, and the fresh cement is very flammable. Drunk and enraged, the guest refused to go to an emergency room. By the time I appeared, she had grown tired of hurling abuse. Head resting on the table, she was sobbing. Spilled drinks and broken glass littered the area.

Security officers had cleared the room. Near the entrance, a crowd of clerks, patrons, and the night manager parted to allow my passage and observe my performance. Although not a master at handling drunks, I understood the soothing effect of an old man with a grey beard and carrying a doctor’s bag.

Patting her shoulder until she looked up, I introduced myself and suggested we go to her room. After dressing the burn, I stayed long enough for her pain to give way to the effects of alcohol, and I could assure everyone she would cause no more trouble.

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.