The Sales Pitch, Part 2: Please Release Me, Let Me Go
As we pick up the story, our main character had just found himself trapped in his office by a feisty pharmaceutical representative eager to perforate his eardrums with a long-bow full of crisp, well-rehearsed questions designed to match the creases of her black suit.
The product in question: who cares - that’s the MacGuffin!
The time: just minutes into the post-meridian, when hungry patrons of all types are filing into the hospital cafeteria and piling the vittles high on their plates.
The mood: The oncologist - a rather pathetic look of phony interest covering a morass of boredom and tummy-grumbling. The office staff: lip-smacking mixed in with silent snickering. The Big Pharma rep: unbearable sprightliness.
I usually don’t eat the lunch provided by drug reps - not that I hold a grudge against pungent steaming aluminum pans of mostaccioli or garlic chicken, or bags of potato chips large enough to use as sleeping bags, or chili. It’s just not what I race down the hall for when I’m ready to re-load the old metabolism for the afternoon’s labors. Speaking of the daily schedule, I certainly don’t find any joy in getting stuck in a long-winded presentation while my patients are thumbing through the July 1982 edition of Family Circle, wondering what happened to their doctor. Depending upon the layout of the office, I can sometimes slither out the back way during a sales call without encountering the reps. Today, however, unless I was ready to squeeze through the laboratory window, which would have started a four-part harmony of tongue-wagging from patients observing my exodus, I was trapped. Therefore stiffening the sinews, if not summoning up the blood from its cowardly hideout, I marched forth and greeted the salesperson with about as much enthusiasm as when one picks up the car from valet parking.
It is interesting to see the different tactics used by pharmaceutical salespeople. From my own experience I have encountered all types of reps - those pushing hard-sell tactics and those using the soft sell, reps who are overloaded with facts, reps who know every doctor, celebrity, and celebrity-doctor in town, and those who ooze with unctuous gratitude everytime I give out a box of samples. My tete-a-tete today was with what looked to be a recently retired cheerleader who had taken up the cause of better health through costly medications. The product in question was one I did use, so I listened respectfully to her recitation of the latest abstracts from Anderson (or was it Uzbekistan)? As the precious minutes ticked off I began to plan out my end-game - why not simply raise the right hand and swear solemnly by the gods of chemotherapy that I will to the best of my ability preserve, protect and defend her product from a lack of use?
That seemed to be a sincere and generous way to end the meeting, but unfortunately I had not the strength to force the moment to its crisis. Mr. Undecisive, I blurted out the one thing that did not need to be said in order to release my fetters and allow me to get on with the rest of my frightfully busy day. Always trying to play the preux chevalier, I asked:
“Do you have any literature you could send me?”
It is always a pleasure to learn of the latest advances in my chosen field, and I am truly grateful to the long years of research and development that goes into every new chemotherapy or biological treatment. I also humbly acknowledge the role played (although in my opinion a small one) by the pharmaceutical representatives whose mission is to disseminate information like Johnny Appleseed strewing whatever it was he strewed. When it comes to saving trees, however, drug companies seem to have a mortifying lack of interest in conserving this vital natural resource. I know this all too well, because ever since I queried that drug rep I have had to climb a six-foot ladder to get over the Great Pyramid of Giza of medical propaganda that is piled on my desk. I’m thinking of taking a speed reading course. Maybe I should just buy a larger trash can.
You mean to tell me that you don’t recycle paper in your office?!
I have no solution for your present dilemmas, but I do appreciate both your efforts and those of the drug companies, and their reps.
Comment by Joan — May 17, 2005 @ 6:28 am
One of the great things about being out of a private office and back in the hospital…almost NO drug reps!
And I agree w/Joan-recycling is clearly the way to go.
Comment by Abby — May 18, 2005 @ 12:24 am
So if the drug rep did not come to you, how diligent would you be in seeking out new drug information? What would be a better, more efficent method for getting this information to the doctors?
Comment by Deborah — May 18, 2005 @ 10:27 pm
My stepdaughter used to work for a doctor that made drug reps schedule their visits to his office. He was too busy doctoring to have side meetings with drug reps. To me, that’s a good thing for the office admin to do.. “give me your literature, etc.. we’ll call you later”.
Comment by Lisa — May 22, 2005 @ 12:47 am
Was it the Duragesic rep trying to persuade you not to prescribe the new generic version, or the Pallidone rep trying to persuade you to use this instead of Oxycontin which is going generic?!
Comment by Tim — May 23, 2005 @ 9:31 pm
I’m a nurse and I have no idea why, but drug reps sometimes come to the hospital and give us their propaganda. Don’t they know that we don’t prescribe drugs? Regardless, we are always happy to see them because they bring us pens and chocolate. At least the smart ones do. But, I do feel a little guilty because whatever gift they give me just adds to the cost of the drug. The consumer eventially pays for my pens and chocolate.
Comment by Melissa — June 1, 2005 @ 4:25 am