Oath of the Concierge Physician to the Very Wealthy

Because the rich are different from you and me.

I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant, modified for the concierge physician to the very rich.

I will park slantwise across my patient’s driveway to ensure that vehicles belonging to lesser members of staff are relegated to the street.

I will, at my patient’s request and without batting an eye, practice medicine on small canines and the occasional Persian cat.

I will curate an array of quality sweater vests in respectful, earthy tones and will don them according to a rotating schedule to which I will strictly adhere. I will be equally scrupulous with my loafers.

I will respect the intelligence of my patients by not having a name that is difficult to pronounce. Just as Hippocrates practiced under the name “Dr. Howie,” I, too, will go by a name that is not too “foreign sounding.”

I will not do weird things like ask to use my patient’s pool while they are in Europe. Instead, in the spirit of prevention (for prevention is preferable to cure), I will identify a “suspicious growth” on my patient’s flank and accompany them to Europe to “keep an eye on it.”

I will not play God. I will humbly remember my place as a member of my patient’s staff and will conduct myself accordingly, despite my medical degrees.

I will not be a “lady doctor.” I will be male and steadfastly so, out of respect for the comfort and sensibilities of my patients.

I will remember that there is art to medicine, as well as science, and so will become accomplished in interpretive dance in the event that I am called upon to perform at my patient’s dinner parties.

If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected as a member of my patient’s staff as long as the terms of my retainer dictate and vaguely remembered thereafter. May I long experience the joy of healing the wealthy asshats who seek my help.