Tales from the Emergency Room (20 page)

Queen

I had a secretary in the New York office, Queen, who was a statuesque light-skinned black woman. She was an excellent employee, but I really never did get over her name. One day I was talking by phone with my granddaughter who was living in Lagos, Nigeria at the time and who attended The American School there. I asked if she had made any new friends. She said that, indeed, she had—there was Pierre, he was from Paris, and Nicole, she was from London and there was Queen, she was black, she was from Detroit. What a laugh we all had over that!

The Holidays

When I returned from a vacation I noticed a new person at the front desk. Rather than ask how my time off had gone, my partner frantically waved me into his room as I went toward my office. He had hired the new lady, who was an observant Jew, only to find that, in addition to the usual holidays, she required time off for all of the Jewish holidays as well. They numbered somewhere in the twenties. Of course, it would not have been possible to run the office correctly with her absent so much of the time. My partner should have been conversant with this sort of problem but, since he did not practice his religion to this degree, it did not occur to him. He was concerned about firing her, possibly because of religious concerns. I told him I would take care of it. I asked the new employee to come back to my office and there I explained to her that my partner and I had a contract which clearly stated that neither one of us could hire or fire anyone without the other’s consent. This was true. Since I didn’t consent to her being hired, she was free to go. She left without any problem. My partner tried to get me to tell him what I had done, but he was never able to worm it out of me, a little joke of my own there, I suppose.

Dr. C.

Soon after my partner retired it became obvious that I would need help running my practice. I called the executive secretary of my training institute to see if she had any ideas about who might come to work for me. She immediately named Dr. C, a young resident just finishing up his training. We hit it off immediately; he was enthusiastic, I knew he was very well trained and he was highly recommended. So he came to work for me and took a great load off my mind and the burden of trying to do everything myself. He had one problem however. He was tall, dark and very handsome! But, since it didn’t bother me a bit when the young single business women would politely ask if they could see Dr. C. for their treatments instead of me, he became a significant asset to the practice. The internationally known doctor who bought my practice hired him and continues to employ him these many years later.

Celebrities

There was an ENT physician in Manhattan just up Park Avenue from my office who sent a great number of referrals to us over the years. They were almost all well known people and we used to kid around saying that if we had to have a celebrity in the office in 10 minutes, all we had to do was go up and get the first person we saw out of this doctor’s waiting room and bring him/her to our office. Once, Paul Newman called, which created a stir among the ladies in my office. And once, Elizabeth Taylor actually made an appearance. Interest ran high as her appointment approached. When she arrived, she turned out to be several inches taller than expected, several years older, clearly not the actress we had been expecting. Eventually the list of real celebrities got rather long. Most were ordinary nice people and we treated them just as if they were perfectly ordinary. However, several left us holding the bag with unpaid bills and some were unable to cope with just being ordinary. Some were difficult patients, demanding and unwilling to cooperate with our care. Some were highly entertaining. Several stand out. One singer, who now is quite famous, eventually didn’t pay the $300.00 she owed to me. To this day, I am tempted to try to catch up with her (her performance schedule is well known) and remind her about that. Another, still active actress arrived looking positively unattractive, with no makeup and her hair uncombed. Even now, when I see her on TV I marvel at the wonders of cosmetics and hair styling done with taste. My last contact with her occurred when she called me on a Saturday morning, via her office patch from half-way across the globe where she was filming. She had been in an “explosion” scene and it had affected her nose and what should she do about that for immediate relief. The conversation developed into a minor set-to and that was that.

A Star of Stage and Screen

There are certain celebrities who are instantly recognizable by their looks, style of dress, voice, etc. One celebrity, more recognizable than most, came into the office as a patient. She turned out to be a good patient and fun to have around. Her first request however was that we should call her by her married name. We all thought that this was a fascinating idea since anyone who had ever gone to the movies, seen a musical or watched TV was sure to know who she was by her voice alone. Not to mention her hairdo. After her first treatment, following which she needed to wait for 20 minutes as all patients did before leaving the office, she asked if she could use an unoccupied examining room. We agreed. Shortly thereafter, passing the room with its door open, I saw her peering intently at a tiny scrap of paper held tightly between her thumb and forefinger while she made dainty, small steps, all the time standing nearly in place. I hadn’t a clue until it dawned on me that she was practicing a dance step. Since this became a routine of hers, we were delighted to have her use a room for this purpose and wondered if we would ever see any of this performed in another venue.

Another time, one of the few early mornings when I arrived later than usual at the office (but not late), there she stood opposite the elevator door on my office floor encouraging me in her distinctive voice to hurry up so as not to be late or to have her be late for her next appointment. I have often chuckled about what the other riders on the elevator with me that morning were thinking as the car continued on its upward journey. Probably just that it was just another interesting start to a day in New York City.

The Diva

A well-known African-American opera star was a patient of mine. At one of her visits, she brought along her husband who was white. One afternoon she received her treatments without ill effect and left the office. That evening, at home, I received a call from her distraught-sounding husband. Had I seen the woman? Yes, I had, but I had not heard from her since she left the office. Eventually, by what means I do not know, her husband found her in England. She had left the office, and without telling anyone, hopped a flight to the UK. It was the last time I ever saw her in person, but not the last time I saw her perform. I later heard that the marriage had failed. I was not surprised!

Augusta

Although she was not strictly a “celebrity”, she was one in my book. One of the finest, most aristocratic women that I have known, she was my partner’s mother. Twice widowed, Augusta lived near 58th Street on Sixth Avenue in Manhattan. Among other things, she was a gifted painter of Chinese scenes, a world traveler and an avid golfer. Two of her watercolors hung in my home. In her 80’s, she would lug her golf clubs by herself on the subway to the public course at the end of the line in Tremont, the Bronx, play a round of golf and return home by the same route. Both coming and going involved long fights of subway stairs.

There came a time when China opened up to foreign travelers. One day Augusta arrived in the office and announced that she wanted to talk to Bill. Her son rolIed his eyes at that, but Augusta and I adjourned to an examining room to chat. She immediately announced that she had “ennui”. Having no idea what she meant, I inquired as to the cause of this feeling which was so out of character for her. She told me that, at the age of 87, she had told her internist that she was going to China. He immediately forbade her to do so. She was very down and even depressed over this. All I could think to say was that she had made a very serious mistake. At that she perked up, wondering what I meant. I explained that the mistake was telling her physician about her plans. She seemed to take that under consideration and left shortly after getting her usual follow-up on my children.

Several months later a similar scenario took place, only this time Augusta was in high spirits. I remember clearly how she said to me, “Bill, I’m going to China!” I knew immediately that her physician had not been informed and that my partner had given his blessing. So, off she went. About a month later, after completing the whole tour and having caught one of the respiratory illnesses that many travelers brought home from China with them, Augusta was taken from her return flight directly to Lenox HilI Hospital to recover, I think, from pneumonia. I remember arriving in her room for a visit where it was very dark and various machines and IVs were running. She looked at me with the happiest smile, as sick as she was, and said, “WelI, I’ve been to China.” I could not have been happier for her. Her recovery was speedy and she was able shortly to return to her apartment.

Not long after this, as I was going into my building in the morning I saw this little figure wearing a bonnet and carrying a straw bag striding toward me. I knew it was Augusta. I couldn’t help telling her that she looked a little like a refugee coming along in that outfit and we had a good laugh. She was on her way to her painting lesson.

S&S

I took care of a very famous playwright and a theater critic almost as well known. They were not good friends. One afternoon, my secretary came to tell me that they were both in the waiting room at the same time. While I thought it was hilarious, I had her call the first one to arrive out of the waiting area. By the time we were finished his nemesis was safely ensconced in another treatment room. I did not press the waiting for 20 minutes after injections rule, so that by the time I was done with the second patient, the critic, the playwright was gone. Thus was avoided a clash of artists. I noted that they never were seen together again, arranging their schedules so as to get their treatments on separate days, I suppose. (One note: Neither of these men ever produced a ticket to anything for the staff, not even a twofer even though I saw them weekly for several years. Another patient, a Broadway producer never arrived without tickets of some sort. Sometimes he brought so many we left them on the counter for other patients to use!)

The Cardinal

My partner was Jewish and my New York office manager at the time was Jewish. But, I was on vacation when a Cardinal of the Church came to the office. He was dressed as an ordinary Catholic clergyman. There ensued a discussion about what to call the Cardinal when his turn to be seen came. My partner and my nurse, a good Catholic, had no idea but, my office manager said, finally, she guessed that “Your Eminence” would be correct. How she knew this I never did find out, but when I heard the story I said that simply calling him Father would have been sufficient. Well, no one believed that, so, at his next visit, I asked His Eminence outright about how to address him, and the problem that had caused. He said that he would have been pleased to have been called Father, since that, after all was what he was, but that “Your Eminence” was correct as well. We all had a good laugh over this and it would come up from time to time when a patient insisted on being called by his or her title and no one could remember what it was! Unlike many other offices, to this day I address patients by their titles, not by their first names

The Orchestra Conductor

One of my favorite patients was a well known orchestra conductor in New York City. A sunny personality with an ability to accept criticism endeared her to me. On the rare occasions when negative comments were printed about a performance of her orchestra, I usually commented to her on something that had been said in the review. She would then explain the comment to me and we would end up laughing about it. Over the years, in different places, I have met singers and other conductors, some of whom know her personally and all of whom have heard about her.

The Monsieur

A man from Laos, small in stature but large on the world scene was “The Monsieur”. He came to me with very bad, lifelong asthma. Newer drugs were becoming available and he was a totally compliant patient who did extremely well on a carefully crafted medical regimen. Monsieur was in charge of United Nations troops in much of the world. He had two stunningly beautiful daughters with astronomically high IQs. I knew he continued to do well after I retired when he and his wife came to visit us in our new home in Florida. Monsieur travelled the world and I have many gifts which he would bring to the office for me. Reminders of a truly lovely man.

National
Disasters

The World Trade Center I

Just about everyone remembers where they were and what they were doing when great disasters occur. Everyone old enough can probably remember the Kennedy assassination and their personal circumstances at the time. One chilly day in February, 1992, I was driving home from the New York City office at my usual time in the early afternoon. It was snowing lightly and the weather was quite unpleasant. I began to notice a great number of fire engines and emergency rescue trucks speeding south on the opposite side of the Major Deegan Expressway toward the City. My first thought was that they were on their way to a show of some sort. However, when I turned onto the Bronx River Parkway, which is normally used by passenger vehicles only, ambulances and other equipment were speeding south on that roadway, too. I began to think that this might represent a disaster response and mentioned this to my wife when I got home. Soon thereafter of course we learned of the first bombing of the World Trade Center. I remember hearing and seeing in the newspaper and on television clips of the massive numbers of vehicles all around the site and thinking that I had seen a great many of them speeding by me.

Oklahoma City

At my clinic in the South Bronx there was a large television set in the waiting room. I was quite used to hearing the drone of the set. The patients waiting were almost always very quiet, watching TV or engrossed in their own thoughts. On May 19, 1995 in the late morning, I heard a collective gasp coming from the waiting area. Thinking someone was not well, I went to check. The image on the TV screen completely arrested my progress into the area and I stood with the others to try to discover what had happened and where. Another time I will always remember where I was and what I was doing.