Last modified: Sunday, March 16, 2008 1:48 AM EDT ZUCK: How do they do that? As a geriatric care manager, part of my job entails accompanying older adults to their doctor's visits. I help the doctor by providing the client's medication lists, allergy information, and recent symptoms. I help the client by recording the doctor's recommendations and making note of medication changes. And I help myself to the jar of lollipops at the receptionist's desk. I'm always impressed by the wealth of information that medical professionals dispense, and even more so when they do it in a sensitive manner. Going to the doctor can be stressful for anyone, especially for an elderly person with physical or cognitive impairments. So I appreciate when medical professionals go the extra mile to reassure the patient, make the visit as comfortable as possible, and give us free pens, stress balls, and other such toys from pharmaceutical companies. I admire the nurse who can administer a vaccination while speaking gently to the patient to calm him down. I admire the doctor who can explain a complicated diagnosis in such a way that the client and I both understand it. One doctor I know will even draw diagrams of everything for us, complete with angry-looking germs or a colon wearing a frown. Recently I was particularly impressed by a dental hygienist. She gave us chewing gum and toothpaste samples and she even had one of those wind-up chattering teeth thingies - but it was her wide range of skills and hidden talents that most impressed me. To be a dental hygienist, you have to be able to clean someone's teeth. You have to be able to scrape, polish, rinse, and repeat - that much is clear. But there is an entirely different set of skills that a good dental hygienist must possess, a skill set that I never truly appreciated until I had the luxury of observing the cleaning rather than being the one in the hot seat. The first day of class for dental hygienists must include One-Sided Conversations. Because beyond the initial greeting, once the patient is in the chair and keeping his mouth open, it's completely up to the hygienist to keep the conversation alive. The hygienist I saw last week put on a one-woman show complete with thoughtful monologues, singing, a little dancing, and even answering her own knock-knock jokes. Incredible. Day Two of hygienist school probably includes How to Get Splattered With Stuff and Not Lose Your Cool. This hygienist was awash in a sea of spit, water, plaque, droplets of blood, and bits of the patient's egg salad sandwich, and she never batted an eye. I would have been running out of the office, tearing my protective mask and goggles off, and squeezing my drug-company stress ball for dear life had I been in her Keds. Her stoicism in the face of so much horror was inspiring. Finally, should you ever consider being a dental hygienist, be sure you keep lots of lollipops in your office. Because sometimes that makes all the difference in making the visit a good one for the patient. And for the geriatric care manager. BILL ZUCK has a happy face on his colon. You can reach him at wcz78@yahoo.com.