As I See It

Mind Your Rudder

Medical practices have lagged behind in customer service for too long, leaving patients out to sea.

By Paul S. Koch, M.D., Editor Emeritus

I live in a beautiful corner of the country, near what is considered by many, self included, to be our nation's sailing capital. This gives me the special advantage of living near many ship chandleries: some locally owned, others part of a national chain, and some international internet distributors. And so it is that whether I need a single gudgeon or a pair of pintles, I have only to drive down the street to have a selection.

I have been making that trip frequently in recent months, as I finish up construction of a wooden sailing dinghy with a target launch date of Thanksgiving morning, weather be damned. I am well known in the chandlery as the ragged man who buys an odd bit of this and an occasional bit of that as I try to make my self-imposed deadline.

When I found myself short six screws, I picked out a half-dozen silicone bronze, flat-head number 8s (one and a quarter inch) and headed to the front of the store for checkout. The clerk waved me by. "It looks like you're getting near the end. This one's on me," he said. "Good luck. Show me a picture when she's done."

I was astounded. The clerk — who surely sees dozens of customers each day — had remembered my project and decided to give me a little gift to help me along. The monetary value of those six screws was close to nothing, but the gesture and the personal acknowledgment were priceless. For a moment, I felt like the most important customer in the world.

Strong Headwinds

I talked about the encounter that night over dinner with a businessman friend, who responded with a story of his own. "I went to your office today and had a pleasant experience. I was taken in almost on time; the doctor was reasonably pleasant and thorough," he explained. "We had a brief talk about my condition. It wasn't bad at all."

Foolishly, I failed to smile, thank him and move on. Instead, I pressed for more details.

He told me that he sees two other specialists. Each one keeps him waiting an hour or two, talks down to him, and uses big words he can't understand. Both seem impatient when he asks questions. He hates them, but goes to them because they are a lot nicer than the specialists he used to go to.

Run Aground

Ouch. It wasn't that we were great, it's that we "weren't bad" compared to others. He didn't love his visit in my office; we just seemed fine compared to the other practices. We were almost on time, reasonably pleasant, and didn't condescend. In the world of customer service that assessment probably rates us below average, but as far as he was concerned we were an above average doctors' office. The bar has been set so low we were able to beat it.

Coming About

That morning, a clerk gave me five dollars worth of screws and made me feel like a million bucks. Is it possible to do the same for our patients? Sure, but when we succeed it might not be because we are special; it might be because we are not as crummy as someone else. That gives us lots of room to find ways to give our patients a Wow! experience.

John Corboy (I wonder how many of our younger readers know about this remarkable ophthalmologist?) once advised me, "It's not enough that your patients send a friend to you. Your patients have to feel so strongly about you that they will not allow their friends to go anywhere else."

He understood that a patient wants to feel special. So did the clerk in the chandlery. So can I. I just have to watch for opportunities. OM