Best of The Cheerful Oncologist - "The Sales Pitch, Part I"

[Editor's note: While the narrator is off enjoying spring break in an balmy undisclosed location he asked us to reprint some of his old posts. We had actually planned to lease this space to a more intellectual project in his absence but when he gave us those Bambi eyes we relented. So here he is once again.]

The Sales Pitch (originally posted in May, 2005)

I let out a zephyr of relief as I guided the ol' Model T into the doctor's parking lot: another harrowing trip on the crash-test roadway known as my route to work had ended without me being extracted feet first by the jaws of life. I don't mean to impugn my fellow commuters, but when I see little old ladies diving over azaleas and fire engines cruising the highways for customers I begin to wonder if folks are truly paying attention to the road. Most mornings by the time I reach the hospital my right leg has pumped the brakes so much it could get me a job punting for the St. Louis Rams. This is not an inspiring way to start a long day at a job requiring patience and concentration, or at least a facial expression giving the illusion of the same.

Hey, let's face it - there are some days when all I want to do is sneak in the back door, see a few patients, peruse the latest headlines while nursing a quick cuppa and get the heck out of town. On that morning as I trudged into the office my secretary turned and gave me the kind of smile usually found in medieval paintings on the queen, just as the king is trundled off to the nearest scaffold.

"We're having lunch brought in today - would you like to order something?" She cautiously offered me a smudged black-and-white menu. I paused to consider a sandwich called "The Elvis" when suddenly the scales fell from my eyes: food from the outside world - on a Tuesday? This could mean only one thing - Big Pharma was coming to hogtie me and bring new layers of depth to the meaning of "captive audience."

It's not that I don't appreciate receiving information about a drug company's new treatment, but in the field of medical oncology I feel the product sells itself. No matter how much spin is put on it, the drug works when it works, and when it doesn't work this lack of efficacy has nothing to do with Marketing putting the nix on some junior staffer's proposal to flood the nation with promotional material. I looked forward to this luncheon with the same amount of zeal Richard III would have if invited to a picnic on Bosworth Field.

Tables were set up in the back and around noon a man wearing a red and black shirt rushed in through the rear entrance to deliver several greasy bags. My staff hovered over the delectables, creating a tableau vivant worth of Titian if he had remembered to bring his brushes. Lacking the necessary enthusiasm for appreciation of the feast, I started to sneak out until I heard a voice warbling with kissy-face coming down the hall toward me.

Too late - the sales pitch was about to begin. I elevated my jowls and prepared a face to meet the face I was to meet.

Next: The Sales Pitch: Part 2, or What Kind of Fool Am I?