The Housecall Doctor

  A few years ago, Quantas abruptly cancelled flights after an engine exploded. Other airlines followed. Their passengers were stuck in hotels. Within days calls began arriving from guests running out of heart or blood pressure or diabetes medication. Aware of horror stories about America’s medical system, they were counting their money, hoping to have enough for the necessary king’s ransom. The lucky ones (those in my hotels) were pleased to hear that I don’t charge for replacing legitimate prescriptions. Most drugs are available worldwide but in different formulations and with different names. Rather than try to figure things out, I tell guests to go to a drug store where the pharmacist will research the matter and phone for my approval. Guests regularly call for ongoing medication. My record occurred after 9/11 when all flights stopped, and hotels were packed. Some travelers also fell ill, so my paying business jumped for several weeks. Then everyone returned home, and touri

  I didn’t recognize the number on caller ID, and when I heard “This is Adele from L’Hermitage” I nearly dropped the phone. L’Hermitage never calls. I serve many luxury hotels but the hard core Beverly-Hills-area establishments (Bel Air, Four Seasons, W, Montage, Beverly Wilshire….) as well as L’Hermitage pay me no mind. I don’t market aggressively, and plenty of doctors are eager to serve them. The guest needed to speak a doctor, Adele informed me. Was I available? I was. “I hope you can help me,” said the guest. I listened, and my heart sank as I realized that L’Hermitage had not seen the light. You can guess what had happened. His request rejected by L’Hermitage’s regular doctor, the guest had demanded that the staff find someone else.   Recovering from my dashed hopes, I explained that I could not accommodate him.

  This was from a dispatcher for Expressdoc, a national housecall agency. Ontario is in San Bernardino County, fifty miles distant, but this is small potatoes. My record drive is ninety miles to Santa Barbara. The patient was an Argentine lady visiting her son; her upset stomach presented no problem. The son and I chatted as he accompanied me to the elevator. He told me he was reevaluating his decision to remain in the US because the political atmosphere had grown so shrill. Did you ever think there’d come a time when Latin Americans considered their governments more stable?

As I entered the room, half a dozen family members stood and bowed. When Japanese bow, it means no one speaks English, so I phoned the Japanese travel insurance agency. Passing my cell phone back and forth to the patient, I asked the usual questions and listened to the dispatcher’s interpretation. After the exam, I phoned the agency again to deliver my conclusions. The guest had the flu.   Everyone gathered and bowed as I left. Even as the door closed, I was worrying. Doctors are casual about washing their hands. If your doctor skips it, his hands carry whatever infection they picked up from previous patients. Remind him. I usually come directly from home where I don’t handle sick people, but I always wash my hands before seeing a guest; afterwards I do the same. As I walked down the hall, I was aware that I couldn’t disinfect my phone which the guest had handled repeatedly.  

  A Quantas flight attendant was vomiting, so I drove 49 miles to the Radisson in Newport Beach. Fortunately, she was already getting better. She hadn’t vomited in six hours. I told her that she should continue to improve and advised her to suck on ice chips. I went to the ice machine and brought back a tub full. Normally, I would have left antinausea pills, but she was pregnant. She thanked me effusively as I left. Soon after, a nurse from the airline phoned. Tactfully, she explained that the Quantas patient had “expressed concern.” In her original call, the crew member had requested medicine for vomiting. A doctor had come but left without giving anything. I explained that she was recovering and didn’t need medicine. In any case, she was pregnant, so taking drugs was not a good idea. The nurse expressed complete sympathy. Later, the director of the housecall agency phoned. Tactfully, he explained that a nurse had passed on some “concerns” expressed by a flight attendant. I re

  Finding a hotel is easy, but some travelers live elsewhere. I received a call to Marina Del Rey, an upscale beach community. Google maps revealed that the guest’s address was an apartment complex with many buildings, an ominous beginning. As I suspected, street parking was forbidden. I drove onto the complex and followed directions toward visitor parking. That required the guest to open the gate to the parking garage, but, being a temporary resident, he didn’t know how. Fortunately it was a business day, so the leasing office was open. Ignoring signs threatening terrible consequences for non-apartment seekers, I parked in the leasing zone. . After a long walk, I found the address – 4131 Via Marina – over a door, but it was locked, and there was no call-box. I phoned the patient who he had no idea where I was. I walked around the building. On the opposite side was a large entrance, but its address was 4135. Completing my circumnavigation found me back at 4131 and the locked door