Pharm Babes

My family physician had been a trusted and loyal personal friend for decades. When he died 11 years ago I threw away all the medications he had prescribed for me over the years. I can candidly admit that my quality of life has never been better. I take one, single 81 mg aspirin each day and that’s it.

My doctor and I had made contact in the 1970s. In those days he had an office in the Century City Medical Tower. It was comforting to sit in his office and discuss whatever malady was striking the population at the time over a cigarette. We would end up discussing new restaurants, current movies or which Hollywood mogul had made a jerk of himself recently. It was an easy friendship.

My doc would later join the overwhelming maze of “Medicalia” at UCLA. Eventually he moved his practice to his very own UCLA/satellite building near Beverly Hills. The one incident which peaked my curiosity about him happened one evening when I was cooking dinner. My landline phone rang. It was a young woman who told me that my doctor had decided to switch my anti cholesterol medication from Mevacor to Lipitor because of its superior quality. She asked for my instant approval. I was taken aback, slightly annoyed that a stranger had gotten my phone number and information about me from a trusted source. I told her that I would speak with my doctor about the medication change – the matter was between him and me. I asked who she represented? Lipitor, of course. She was a rep for the company.

I visited my doctor the following week and he enlightened me about “Pharm Babes”. He said they were extremely attractive young women who were being used to “market” drugs. They used very aggressive techniques. He insisted that he would never give out information about his patients. The rep may have paid someone on the doctor’s staff for information. In any case, if a doctor agreed to put all his high-cholesterol patients on Lipitor he could reap the rewards. Like what, I asked? Trips, cruises, valuable gifts, vacations at golf resorts, like that. “What did you get?” My doc declined to answer. One month later he moved my appointment because he was leaving for a golf vacation in Morocco. I still miss him. Rest in peace. But not that Lipitor. I received a postcard from him featuring the elaborate entrance gates in Tangier of the summer residence of the King of Saudia Arabia with his message, “It’s good to be King”.