My neighbor convinced me that the British go to the doctor for much less serious illnesses than Americans do. So after 5 days of worsening sore throat and my mother's voice ringing in my head ("Get drugs... whatever it takes, get medicine...") plus a huge and growing curiosity about British healthcare, I called the doctor. When I asked to make an appointment, the receptionist said, "Today or tomorrow?"
Whoa. The only time I've ever heard that from a doctor was when I showed up at a Chicago ER this summer with a broken arm. And that doctor wanted me to choose "tomorrow".
3 hours later, I was in the waiting room. There was no one at the desk, only a computer screen that said "Touch here to sign in." COOL. 10 minutes later, a different screen lit up and flashed my name and a room number. A smiling Irish doctor met me at the door and chatted about the weather. I was at the level of sickness that makes politeness not an option, and I blurted out something like, "I've never been to the doctor outside the U.S., so you'll have to bear with me." He laughed and then chatted about the weather in Chicago. Then he asked when my ancestors had left Ireland (thanks to my super Irish first name) and if I knew my Irish family's last name. Then he chatted about the Donahue clan. I tried to smile and not have it hurt my throat.
Finally he asked what was wrong, and I listed everything very efficiently like a good American patient. He said "awww" and asked how my studies were going. Then he lamented the rise of modern culture that makes it impossible for people to stay in bed and rest when they're sick. He looked in my ears (why?), then down my throat and said thoughtfully, "it's red." Okay.
I waited for him to get the swab and do the 10-minute throat culture that my pediatrician always did to find out if it's a bacterial or viral sore throat. He didn't. When I asked for it, he said that by the time they got the lab results back, I would be better. But he offered to do the test anyway, since "it's no skin off my nose." I guess that's right, he gets paid the same no matter what services he gives me. Imagine that.
After providing me with sympathy, a friendly personality, some social criticism, minimal clinical testing (not even a temperature check!), and a solid 20 minutes of his time, he wrote out a "prescript" for penicillin. I was surprised, since he couldn't know if I had strep throat and penicillin would work without doing a strep test. When I asked if I would get better without the penicillin, he laughed and pointed out that people got sore throats before the 1920s invention of penicillin and survived. Right. Smart ass.
He directed me to the nearest pharmacy ("Are they drug stores in America? Here they're called pharmacies."), with explicit instructions on how to pronounce the owner's name. His directions included how many hedgerows to pass and that it was "just beyond the butcher's." As I left, I asked the receptionist if I needed to do anything like sign out, and she looked at me like I was crazy. Not crazy, just foreign, I wanted to say. It was pretty amazing to walk out of a doctor's office having only given them my name and not my insurance card.
All prescriptions, whether they are for penicillin or chemotherapy, cost 7 pounds 10 pence. I happily forked that over at this charming "chemist" that looks straight out of the 1800s:
And I made sure to pronounce the owner's name right. :)
So in my limited experience, social healthcare = a doctor who listens and wants to be your friend and connect with you culturally (ideally through common ancestry), who doesn't bother to do tests that are not useful, who respects the body's ability to heal itself and instead blames society for sickness, who prescribes medication but advises you on whether or not to bother taking it and leaves the choice to you, and who is part of a community where he knows the pharmacist/"chemist" personally.
This is pretty great, although shocking that my little suburban American pediatrician had more advanced lab capabilities than this clinic.
Come on, America, let's socialize!!
3 comments:
WOW WOW WOW WOW. Would you say that kind of system takes a different kind of medical schooling, too? What do you think it's like in a rural area? Unreal. Enjoy your special mold! And feel better, wouldja?!?! (Are there situations where prescribing that stuff off the cuff would end badly?)
um WOW. There are a thousand reasons why socialized medicine is the way to go, but now we can add to that list that it's charming and european too!
Sounds like you were ok to make your trip to Germany. Can't wait to hear the adventures and also how you liked Cork.
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