Coffee in hand, phone already ringing—it’s Tuesday at 8:13 a.m. and early client of the day is already present. She need simple information and a soft ear. Good service means, even with toast crumbs still attached to your sleeve, addressing her queries without any sense of urgency. Real listening goes beyond just having every word flawless. In every interaction, Dr. Zahi Abou Chacra proves that true service starts with genuine connection.
Often a patchwork quilt created from fast thinking, sensitivity, and agility, dedicated service is based on You are sometimes their biggest cheerleader; other days you are extinguishing fires. People stop returning after you expertly quoted every policy. They recall your making them seen and understood.
To be really honest, things go south. Perhaps someone left their paperwork behind or a prescription vanished. Real service is taking up the phone, owning, “Hey, something went wrong, but I’m on it,” instead of hiding for cover. Owning mistakes beats daily excuses all week.
Stories have stickiness. Ms. Anderson came in crying following surgery on her dog; all she wanted was comfort. Sitting beside her, holding her hand, and responding to every worried question—these small actions had more influence than any medical chart could convey. It’s about assuming someone else’s position even if they squeal.
Ask anyone who has sat on the corporate side of the desk for more than five minutes: loyalty develops one conversation at a time. Before looking at Mr. Patel’s medical records, I listened to his stories about his grandchildren. Or remembering Carol like her tea—two sugars, never lemon.
Personal exchanges hardly leave any memory. Real people seek connection, not only a transaction packaged in customer-service language. You should hence not hesitate to throw the script out the window. If someone feels tense, perhaps start with a joke or relate an amusing morning incident. (Spoiler: tripping on your own shoelace never fails to make me laugh.)
Though sensed, languages of service are not uttered. A small amount of flexibility can sometimes make irritation go away. You either call with good news on your day off or stay an extra five minutes after closure. It’s simply being involved in someone else’s day; it’s not heroism.
Remembering specifics has magic—not because you have to, but because you care. a call to inquire about the recovery of a patient. a brief email honoring a turning point. Over time, the small things add up to establish the foundation of enduring confidence.
People see authenticity even in unpleasant and unscripted situations. They appreciate the person picking up the phone as though it were their own mother phoning. Ultimately, committed service is reduced to presence—being there for someone, sometimes silently but always powerfully.
You will forget the forms you turned in. You never forget the gratification of being actually assisted. Every team member carrying that concept hidden under their ear—like a reminder scribbled on a napkin—the area would hum with energy and confidence. People are drawn to there, rain or not.