In this week’s edition, we will discuss Demodex photos, front desk “sales”, and doubling down on four-legged friends at home.
Blink Exercise of the Week
Show Them What You See
Demodex Blepharitis is one of those conditions where a picture really can be worth a thousand words. You can either tell the patient what the collarettes look like, or you can pull up a magnified photo of their own lashes and show them exactly what you're seeing in the slit lamp. Those are two very different conversations.
At my dedicated dry eye practice, every patient gets an anterior segment photo of their lids and lashes prior to me walking into the exam room. It turns something the patient may not be able to see or feel into something tangible. Instead of asking them to take your word for it, you can point to the collarettes and explain what you're seeing, why it matters, and what you're hoping to improve. Getting a patient on board with a treatment plan becomes much easier when they understand what we're actually treating.
The photos become even more valuable at the follow-up. Put the before and after images next to each other, and if the collarettes have significantly improved, the patient can see their progress for themselves. That's particularly useful when their symptoms haven't improved as dramatically as the clinical signs. It can reinforce that the treatment is doing something and gives you an opportunity to talk about what comes next.
You don't always need a sophisticated anterior segment camera to take advantage of this concept. While an ocular surface analyzer is something I recommend for any dry eye practice, there are alternatives such as using your phone against your slit lamp’s oculars, or even patient education materials that exist. The important point is to show them a high-quality image of collarettes.
The goal here is to make the disease visible to the patient. When patients can see what you see, it's much easier for them to understand why you're recommending treatment and to become an active participant in the plan.
Image taken of a patient’s collarettes prior to prescribing treatment
Practice Notes
The Front Desk is a Sales Position, Even If You Don’t Call it One
When we think about sales in a medical practice, it can feel a little uncomfortable. We’re doctors, not salespeople. The reality is that your front desk is involved in “selling” your practice every single day, whether you call it that or not.
For many patients, the person answering the phone is their first interaction with your office. Before they meet the doctor, see your technology, or experience the care you provide, they’ve already started forming an opinion based on a two-minute phone call.
That matters even more when a patient calls asking about a service they may not fully understand. There’s a big difference between saying, “Yes, we offer that. It costs $X,” and taking an extra minute to explain what makes the service valuable, what the patient can expect, and why your practice approaches it the way it does.
This doesn't mean your front desk needs to become a team of salespeople reading from a script. It instead means they need to understand what you do well enough to speak about it with confidence.
It can be valuable to spend some time teaching your staff the why behind your services, and not just the price/how to schedule them. With my front desk staff, I role-played common phone call scenarios to help them get comfortable dealing with different situations. I gave them language for the questions they’ll hear every day and make sure they can explain what makes my practice different without sounding like they're delivering a pitch.
Don’t forget to keep an ear out for what’s happening day-to-day. Listen to how your office answers the phone. No matter how much effort you put into getting patients to find your practice, that initial phone call between them and your front desk staff could just be the difference between whether or not they decide to schedule.
Life Between the Blinks
Chaos on the Homefront
Halfway through optometry school, I brought home my very first dog, Odin. In hindsight, six and a half years later, I don't think I appreciated how easy I had it with him. He was basically an angel as a puppy. Easy to train, relatively well-behaved, and apparently very interested in setting completely unrealistic expectations for what owning my next puppy would be like.
Enter Atlas.
Atlas is 12 weeks old and is a bit more of a menace. The last few weeks have been a reminder of everything that comes with having a puppy: waking up in the middle of the night, fearful moments when I don’t see or hear him, and wondering what in the world is in his mouth this time.
It's also been an interesting lesson in work-life balance. When you're busy with work, it's easy to come home and still have your mind on everything that happened that day or everything waiting for you tomorrow (both the good and bad). A puppy doesn't particularly care about your inbox, your to-do list, or what you didn't finish at the office. He needs to be fed, go outside, make sure he has every ounce of your attention, and (more often than I'd like) he needs something taken out of his mouth.
There's definitely an added responsibility that comes with it, and some days balancing everything feels easier than others. But there's also something nice about being forced to disconnect. Odin and Atlas don't know whether I had a productive day or a frustrating one. They're just happy I'm home.
Odin may have spoiled me into thinking I was naturally great at raising puppies. Atlas has been kind enough to humble me.
Love them all the same.
(Odin)
(Atlas)
One Last Blink
Pets have a pretty good way of reminding us that sometimes the most important part of the day starts when we get home.
See you next week.
Andrew Zagelbaum, OD