Hitting the Jackpot

A call arrived during breakfast. Half an hour later the phone rang again. I was pleased because it was an ideal time for multiple housecalls.

I exercise before noon because later the gym becomes crowded. Two morning housecalls makes arriving before noon impossible. This doesn’t happen often, so I reward myself by skipping the gym without feeling the usual guilt. An hour of exercise is as exciting as an hour brushing your teeth, and I’m deeply suspicious of anyone who claims to enjoy it.

Even better, the second patient was at the same hotel, a rare treat! A downside was that both seemed to be suffering my least favorite illness: a viral respiratory infection. You’ve heard plenty about my reluctance to give antibiotics when they won’t help.

My good luck held. The first guest had a cough and high fever, probably pneumonia because listening to her lungs revealed abnormal noises. In an otherwise healthy person, pneumonia is the only common chest infection that medical science can cure. So I cured her.

On another floor, I examined a middle-aged man who explained that he had bronchiectasis. This is an uncommon condition in which a small area of the lung becomes obstructed, causing frequent infections. This was another, so I gave him antibiotics in good conscience.

These were satisfying encounters, but there was a downside. Because both were at the same hotel, I finished before 11 o’clock, too early to skip my workout.

 

 

Broken Glasses

 An elderly lady gestured me to come in. As I followed, she remained silent, a sign that she spoke no English. If someone doesn’t know “hello” comprehension is generally poor. 

“Portuguese.” she said.  “Speak Spanish?”

When I shook my head, she took up her cell phone. The first number didn’t answer. The second, after a short conversation in Portuguese, proved unfruitful. She continued dialing. She was Brazilian, and most South American travelers have travel insurance. If I phone the insurance agency’s 800 number, someone will interpret. Unfortunately, my call hadn’t come from a travel insurer but a national housecall service, Expressdoc.

I could phone Expressdoc and ask for the agency’s number, but that makes them uncomfortable. Housecalls is a viciously competitive business.

The lady finally found a multilingual friend, and we proceeded with the consultation, passing the phone back and forth. As usual, delivering medical care was the easiest part. She had broken her glasses. She complained of a headache, but it was clear that she wanted a doctor’s note so insurance would pay for a replacement.

 

A Prominent Scam

A guest at the Luxe explained that he was in town for six weeks and needed a disabled parking pass. I told him that was not something I handled. He added that he had the Department of Motor Vehicles form. All he needed was a signature.

I offered to come to the hotel, but – even at half my usual fee – he didn’t want to pay. I could have politely withdrawn, but he might then ask the hotel to recommend another doctor, never a good idea. As I do when it’s an easy service, I told him I would sign the form gratis if he came to my house.

After hanging up, I felt uneasy. Eleven percent of Los Angeles drivers have a disabled parking pass; it’s clearly a scam, and I didn’t want to add to it. What if I had to refuse him? When guests complain after I refuse narcotics, hotel management takes this with a grain of salt, but a parking pass….

You can imagine my relief when I answered his knock and saw that he had only one leg.  

 

 

The Year of Viagra

 National FDAs in Europe and Asia approve new drugs after deciding that the benefits outweigh the risks. Aware that bad side-effects produce an avalanche of lawsuits, America’s FDA takes more care. No matter how many lives a new drug will save, it wants the risk to be minuscule. This is hard, so our FDA takes a long time to make up its mind.

As a result, other nations often have access to new treatments years before America. Doctors complain all the time, but no one expects the FDA to change.

There was a delightful exception: Viagra, discovered in Britain but first released in the US. It’s my impression that no foreign businessman in 1998 considered his US trip a success unless he returned home with a bottle. My records show forty hotel guests who summoned me with this in mind.

I love visiting guests who aren’t sick. While I have no objection to filling certain prescriptions over the phone, Viagra is a powerful drug with serious side-effects. Experts advise us to examine and educate everyone who wants it.

No one objected to paying for a visit, so I came and asked about the guest’s medical history, performed an exam, and delivered my Viagra education. It doesn’t enlarge the penis; it’s not an aphrodisiac, it won’t prolong intercourse or delay ejaculation. It only encourages an erection. No one failed my exam. One gentleman from Indonesia asked for 5,000 tablets. Suspecting these were for resale, I worried about the legality, but this was no problem insisted the happy pharmacist who called me to confirm.  

Tricky Problems

 It upsets me to collect a fee and then send a patient to a clinic or emergency room for care I can’t provide in a housecall. I try to anticipate these.

Many guests phone after a painful accident, hoping I can do an exam and tell them whether or not they have a fracture. Sadly, unless it’s visible to the naked eye, I can’t. It turns out that medical science does little for broken toes, ribs, or noses, and most common fractures (arms, wrist, hand, finger, foot, ankle) are not emergencies. If a guest is willing to wait till office hours, I can make them an appointment with an orthopedist.

Upset stomachs make up the second most common ailment that I hear about. These usually don’t last long, and I carry medicines that help. Stoics often prefer to wait. This is not unreasonable, but the longer symptoms – usually vomiting – last, the less likely that medicine will help. After about a day of vomiting this becomes so unlikely that I send the guest to where they can receive IV fluids.

Abdominal pain is usually benign in a young person but less so as the years pass, and it’s tricky. Entire books have been written on it. I recommend the shortest:  Early Diagnosis of the Acute Abdomen by Zachary Cope, a British surgeon. He wrote it in 1921, and revised it every few years till he died in 1971. 

You can download it free. He’s a droll and witty writer, easy for laymen to understand.

When the Doctor Needs Your Help

 Almost every hotel guest that I see is working or taking an expensive vacation, so illness is more inconvenient than usual. Everyone agrees that doctors have no magical powers…. except… maybe… if you really need magic…..

What if you’re scheduled to deliver an important speech or attend a wedding or visit Disneyland, and you absolutely can’t be sick? In that urgent situation, a smart doctor might come up with a cure that he or she keeps in reserve for such situations.

Doctors love to help you, but they also want you to feel helped. If we do our best, but you’re unhappy, that hurts more than you realize.

So if you want the doctor to prescribe a placebo make it absolutely clear that you will be disappointed unless you get “something.” This happens so often that many doctors assume every patient yearns for magic. That’s why, for example, giving useless antibiotics for respiratory infections is not a sign of incompetence. Even good doctors do it.

Really, I don’t hold anything back for especially deserving patients. It sounds odd, but if you don’t want a placebo, let the doctor know. Say something like “I just want to know what’s going on. If a prescription won’t help, that’s fine with me.”

That sounds like you’re telling the doctor how to do his job, but many need your help.

Not Again! Again.

I was minding my own business on a plane returning to Los Angeles when I heard the elderly man in the adjacent middle-seat say:  “Victoria... Victoria?.... Victoria?...    VICTORIA!!...” Turning, I saw that he was shaking his wife who had passed out.

I informed the flight attendants who produced the traditional oxygen bottle plus a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff and made the usual request for any doctor on the plane. The wife began responding, if groggily. Her blood pressure was undetectable, but engine noise made listening difficult.

By this time, another doctor arrived. She was about forty years younger than I and anxious to be involved. She suspected it might be necessary to land the plane. This is not a decision airlines make lightly. Headphones and a long cord appeared, and, after some delay, she spoke to a doctor on the ground who advised taking the wife to the rear of the plane, laying her on the floor, starting an intravenous line, and observing. With the other doctor leading the way, everyone trundled up the aisle. I wasn’t required.

The couple returned to their seats when the plane began its approach two hours later. The wife seemed all right although she had no memory of what had happened. Paramedics came on board at the gate and led the couple away.

I waved off the flight attendants’ thanks, but they insisted on giving me five thousand frequent flier miles.