From Fish Tanks to Cartoons

There was a recent Sermo post bemoaning the demise of fish tanks, and the calming they bring, in medical waiting rooms.

Aquariums, I agree, have a soporific effect on humans. I’m not immune myself on the rare occasions I encounter one. There’s something relaxing about watching the fish slowly glide back and forth while you admire their different colors, sizes, and patterns. This is why they persisted in a lot of places, such as videotapes (remember “Video Fish Tank”?), screen savers, and a key plot point in Finding Nemo.

 

Personally, I’d much rather watch a fish tank in a waiting room then have a TV blaring at me with news, doctor bios, and direct-to-consumer drug ads. I suspect my patients feel the same way. When I get the occasional offer for a free waiting room TV that will play some customized feed about my practice and “ask your doctor” treatments, I send it off to be recycled into kitchen towels.

I think the real reason fish tanks are gone is that eternal bugaboo of medicine: money.

Margins in most practices, including mine, are thin, and a real fish tank (I’m not talking about a guppy in a bowl) aren’t cheap. They take, well, fish, and the most colorful ones are saltwater. Then they take a pump, heater, chemicals, food, plants, and decorations. Then you have to throw in the cost of a service with expertise in maintaining them (let’s face it, none of us have time to do that ourselves) ...

You want to add that to your overhead? Me neither.

My waiting room, as a result, is pretty bland. A handful of magazines, some books of classic Far Side, Calvin & Hobbes, and Doonesbury cartoons. The magazines are older, but relatively timeless ones, like issues of the Smithsonian or National Geographic. I don’t put out news magazines of any kind. If I’m not going to read the news, my patients shouldn’t have to either. My lobby should be relaxing.

We also live in an era where patients bring their own entertainment, on phones or iPads, to read while waiting. There are often days when I straighten up the waiting room while closing and the magazines haven’t been touched.

Yes, I miss fish tanks. But, like so many other things, they’ve become a casualty of modern medicine. They simply don’t make financial sense.

I’d rather cut corners in the waiting room than with patient care.

 

Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.

There was a recent Sermo post bemoaning the demise of fish tanks, and the calming they bring, in medical waiting rooms.

Aquariums, I agree, have a soporific effect on humans. I’m not immune myself on the rare occasions I encounter one. There’s something relaxing about watching the fish slowly glide back and forth while you admire their different colors, sizes, and patterns. This is why they persisted in a lot of places, such as videotapes (remember “Video Fish Tank”?), screen savers, and a key plot point in Finding Nemo.

 

Personally, I’d much rather watch a fish tank in a waiting room then have a TV blaring at me with news, doctor bios, and direct-to-consumer drug ads. I suspect my patients feel the same way. When I get the occasional offer for a free waiting room TV that will play some customized feed about my practice and “ask your doctor” treatments, I send it off to be recycled into kitchen towels.

I think the real reason fish tanks are gone is that eternal bugaboo of medicine: money.

Margins in most practices, including mine, are thin, and a real fish tank (I’m not talking about a guppy in a bowl) aren’t cheap. They take, well, fish, and the most colorful ones are saltwater. Then they take a pump, heater, chemicals, food, plants, and decorations. Then you have to throw in the cost of a service with expertise in maintaining them (let’s face it, none of us have time to do that ourselves) ...

You want to add that to your overhead? Me neither.

My waiting room, as a result, is pretty bland. A handful of magazines, some books of classic Far Side, Calvin & Hobbes, and Doonesbury cartoons. The magazines are older, but relatively timeless ones, like issues of the Smithsonian or National Geographic. I don’t put out news magazines of any kind. If I’m not going to read the news, my patients shouldn’t have to either. My lobby should be relaxing.

We also live in an era where patients bring their own entertainment, on phones or iPads, to read while waiting. There are often days when I straighten up the waiting room while closing and the magazines haven’t been touched.

Yes, I miss fish tanks. But, like so many other things, they’ve become a casualty of modern medicine. They simply don’t make financial sense.

I’d rather cut corners in the waiting room than with patient care.

 

Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.

There was a recent Sermo post bemoaning the demise of fish tanks, and the calming they bring, in medical waiting rooms.

Aquariums, I agree, have a soporific effect on humans. I’m not immune myself on the rare occasions I encounter one. There’s something relaxing about watching the fish slowly glide back and forth while you admire their different colors, sizes, and patterns. This is why they persisted in a lot of places, such as videotapes (remember “Video Fish Tank”?), screen savers, and a key plot point in Finding Nemo.

 

Personally, I’d much rather watch a fish tank in a waiting room then have a TV blaring at me with news, doctor bios, and direct-to-consumer drug ads. I suspect my patients feel the same way. When I get the occasional offer for a free waiting room TV that will play some customized feed about my practice and “ask your doctor” treatments, I send it off to be recycled into kitchen towels.

I think the real reason fish tanks are gone is that eternal bugaboo of medicine: money.

Margins in most practices, including mine, are thin, and a real fish tank (I’m not talking about a guppy in a bowl) aren’t cheap. They take, well, fish, and the most colorful ones are saltwater. Then they take a pump, heater, chemicals, food, plants, and decorations. Then you have to throw in the cost of a service with expertise in maintaining them (let’s face it, none of us have time to do that ourselves) ...

You want to add that to your overhead? Me neither.

My waiting room, as a result, is pretty bland. A handful of magazines, some books of classic Far Side, Calvin & Hobbes, and Doonesbury cartoons. The magazines are older, but relatively timeless ones, like issues of the Smithsonian or National Geographic. I don’t put out news magazines of any kind. If I’m not going to read the news, my patients shouldn’t have to either. My lobby should be relaxing.

We also live in an era where patients bring their own entertainment, on phones or iPads, to read while waiting. There are often days when I straighten up the waiting room while closing and the magazines haven’t been touched.

Yes, I miss fish tanks. But, like so many other things, they’ve become a casualty of modern medicine. They simply don’t make financial sense.

I’d rather cut corners in the waiting room than with patient care.

 

Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.