1 Mount Lee Lane, Griffith Park
Los Angeles, CA 90027
Dear Dr. Evil,
I am writing to inform you of the revocation, effective immediately, of your admitting privileges to Los Angeles General Hospital.
Before I go on, allow me to stress how much we appreciate your considerable contribution to the hospital’s recent fundraising efforts. I still do not know how you managed to persuade the International Monetary Fund to donate a ‘gazillion’ dollars towards the construction of our new long-term care facility, an act of generosity even more impressive coming so soon after the mysterious destruction of their New York headquarters. However you pulled it off, it was the single most impressive feat of fundraising I have ever witnessed.
Nevertheless, the sheer volume of complaints against you has become too much to ignore. And while this letter is not the forum in which to review the many issues raised, permit me to recap the areas of gravest concern that informed my decision. I am sure you will agree that, in context, I was left with no alternative but to take this most drastic step.
Relations With Staff
Your relations with staff were, simply put, abysmal.
Every staff member is entitled to respect. We are all on the same team, after all, and mutual respect is the glue that binds a team together. You, however, went out of your way to belittle staff members at every turn and seemed to delight in doing so. To wit: your liberal use of finger quotes when describing even the most mundane medical concepts to seasoned health care professionals; your insistence on referring to subordinates as ‘minions’, ‘underlings’, and ‘henchmen’ (besides which, the Employee Handbook stipulates ‘henchpersons’ as the correct usage); your practice of addressing staff members by number, rather than name, and with complete disregard for seniority; and so on. Little wonder that you never received any “frickin’ respect”, as you put it.
I fear that the damage done to our once-vibrant team spirit will take many years and many, many interdepartmental barbecues to repair.
Relations With Other Doctors
Your relations with other doctors were beyond abysmal, especially when it came to conflict management.
Conflict between doctors is inevitable. Not only is it inevitable, it is actually desirable, as patients benefit when different opinions are tested against one another in a professional manner. You, however, were unreceptive to any criticism whatsoever, no matter how constructive or gently broached. Indeed, your invariable response to contrary opinion was a barrage of personal insults followed by naked threats. Granted, most of your threats were of a comical nature—involving death rays, fembots, killer clones, and whatnot—but threats of any kind have no place in a professional setting.
Which brings me to the incident with Dr. Luntz, who was nearly killed by an exploding stethoscope not long after expressing doubts about your knowledge of endocrinology. I am well aware that there is no direct evidence linking you to the crime and that the police have already closed their investigation. Nevertheless, your insistence on greeting Dr. Luntz every morning thereafter with “Hey, Dr. Jerkface, can I borrow your stethoscope? Or should I say, deathoscope?” did not escape my attention.
Standards of Practice
Most seriously of all, your overall approach to healing simply does not accord with modern medicine as it is practiced anywhere in the world.
As a progressive institution, we are always open to new and novel therapies where there is some promise of success. Your approach, however, relies entirely upon techniques that would be right at home in a late-night drive-in movie, with results to match. To wit: five patients killed during ‘lava therapy’; thirteen patients killed during ‘explosive decompression therapy’; seven patients killed during ‘piranha therapy’; and so on. Taking into account the two dozen laundry room workers killed during the liquid methane spill of June 6, your mortality rate approached a shocking 400%! In all honesty, it was almost as if you were trying to kill people, an impression that your habit of adding a reflective skull-and-crossbones decal to your medical bag after each fatality did nothing to dispel.
I cannot imagine what they taught you at Texas Tech, a.k.a. ‘Evil Medical School’, but whatever it was, it has no place here.
In conclusion, I regret that it has come to this, but I must act. My duty is to our patients, and that duty, it is now clear to me, must include keeping you as far away from them as humanly possible. I do, however, wish you the best in your future endeavors and hope that you will use the above criticisms as a starting point to better yourself both personally and professionally.
Dr. Raj N. Chandra
Medical Director and Chief of Staff