2030_ The Real Story of What Happens to America - Albert Brooks [121]
His mobile surgery units were not brought over initially, since people in Los Angeles had better access to operating rooms than people did in China. But Li was still surprised at how infrequently robot surgery was performed in the United States. In addition to the AMA, hospitals also resisted the robots. They wanted local surgeons to use their operating rooms, nursing staff, and other facilities. But Li was determined to change that. He would prove to America once and for all that robots offered the best care at the best price. If a patient needed a heart valve replaced, would he rather have someone in his city do it, or have one of the best heart doctors in the world do it? And for the same price, maybe less. The fact that that doctor was in Johannesburg would be irrelevant.
But it was still the small health centers that were the centerpiece of Li’s plan. He likened it to going to a good restaurant for the very first time. You had no idea what good service was until you got it and then, once you did, you never wanted less than that again. What Americans had given up on was the personal touch. And certainly one could see why. Emergency rooms were factories. Going to a private physician meant hours in a waiting room with only a few minutes spent with the doctor. Concierge medicine was more personal, but ninety-nine percent of people couldn’t afford it. Li would change the whole dynamic.
His health centers would have nurse practitioners that could diagnose almost every problem and treat it immediately. And for what they couldn’t diagnose, they had direct links to a doctor who could. These centers knew the patients’ names, and their children’s names, and what they did for a living, and they made everyone feel as if they lived in a small town. People loved the attention and as soon as they got used to trusting the live nurse–virtual doctor combination, they would never want to spend hours in a waiting room ever again. Li knew something else, too. When he showed how well this could work in Los Angeles, the rest of the country would be begging for it.
* * *
President Bernstein and his wife slept in the same bed. It was unusual in the White House. Most presidents had separate beds and some even had separate rooms. But thanks to the pills, Betsy slept so soundly that her husband could toss and turn to his heart’s content without waking her up. Except this one night.
Betsy was sound asleep until she was suddenly awakened by her husband talking loudly. She looked over and thought he was on a call, that there was a real emergency, but he was sleeping, obviously having a dream. She was about to go back to sleep herself, when his mood changed from being angry. A smile crossed his face, and in his sleep he was kissing someone. He said, very clearly, “Susanna … Susanna.”
Betsy got out of bed and went to the bathroom. She didn’t know how to react. She was tempted to wake him up and have it out right there, but she decided against it. It was a dream, after all. But that didn’t make her feel any better. She took a second pill and went back to bed. She would deal with this in the morning. And as she was getting drowsy and ready to fall off, she heard him again. “Love you … so much.” Now she was furious. But the second pill was too strong, so she closed her eyes and, filled with rage, fell back asleep.
When morning came Betsy said nothing. The President was already downstairs when she woke. She sat up in bed and wondered if it had been a dream. No. She knew it wasn’t. She decided to address it, nothing too heavy, just a comment at the right moment. Screw the right moment. After a shower, she went downstairs.
Bernstein was in the Oval Office with John Van Dyke and the French ambassador. Betsy asked to see her husband. She said it was important. The President’s secretary never said no to Betsy, no matter what was going on, so she buzzed Bernstein and told him his wife was outside. “Please ask her to come back in an hour,” he said. He heard his