These past few years, I have been on the road a lot—and as I have alluded to in other blogs, my life is a direct reflection of the media (Check out George Clooney in Up in the Air). In fact, I wonder if I’m really not just some doppelganger of a movie version of myself still being played out. The movie of my life that resonates right now is Fight Club. Our narrator is speaking to Tyler Durden on the airplane when he first encounters his doppelganger and proclaims:
“Everywhere I travel, tiny life. Single-serving sugar, single-serving cream, single pat of butter. The microwave Cordon Bleu hobby kit. Shampoo-conditioner combos, sample-packaged mouthwash, tiny bars of soap. The people I meet on flights? They're single-serving friends.”
The "single-serving friend" is with us on a day-to-day basis. Think about how brilliant that statement is. We meet people everywhere for brief periods of time. You strike up a conversation with the person at the grocery store, while you’re pumping gas, or maybe even in the bathroom stall. “Three squares? You can't spare three squares?”
Yet, what affect or influence they may have on our lives is most probably negligible, or for better of worse, there may be a “butterfly effect.” I tend to believe that each encounter has the ability to make some impact, and thus I try to avoid it at all costs. My single-serving friends on the airplane get a large order of dead air (or snoring, depending on what time it is).
However, the place I cannot avoid ordering up a mouthful of single-serving compadres is in the exam room. The exam room is where all the magic happens. As doctors of the eye, we restore vision, dispense medical advice, cure ailments and make friends. Yet, what a slippery slope we are traversing!
I remember years ago working with some employees that would have given Sean Connery (Darrell Hammond) a run for his money on SNL Jeopardy:
Alex Trebek: Let's just go with FOREIGN FLICKS for 800.
Sean Connery: [buzzes in] Ursula Andress, Catherine Deneuve, and Charo, twice.
Alex Trebek: That's foreign FLICKS, Mr. Connery.
These employees were not hired for their work experience. Oh no, it was because the result of their procedure was not stellar, and the level of “friendship” turned to regret and compassion, leading to their ultimate employment.
Patients leave cards for their business, present investment opportunities, leave restaurant menus and the most heinous action of all, ask, “Can you sponsor my child for...?” Oh yes, this is a well-oiled blade that needs to be dulled on many occasions.
Then, there are patients on the other side of the discussion. To one such patient, years ago, I quipped “OK, my friend..” to which she replied “Friend? Oh no, we are not friends!” Of course, I took every single-serving opportunity with her after that to reinforce how ridiculous her statement was. No, we’re probably not, but isn’t it nicer that we carry on this charade during the exam?
In the end, we need to be all and nothing to our patients. For this lowly optometrist just trying to get a nut, I approach each exam by the WWTDD maxim.
How about you?