Same Song, Same Verse
A reoccurring take on health care:
I lived in Europe for over three years: in Poland, Germany, and the Netherlands. I sought help in each county for various medical conditions: an ear infection, a severe cold, general check-ups, and other conditions. Each time I simply found a doctor, made an appointment, and was seen. I paid a nominal fee. The best coverage I found was in former East Germany. One doctor pulled out an EKG machine in the office and checked me because she thought she heard a heart murmur. Another doctor flushed my ear to help clean it out and eliminate the infection. As a student I was required—if I remember correctly—to obtain health care coverage for a small monthly premium. No whopping fees for these treatments. Something happened; I needed to be seen. I was. Yet here in the United States, the doctor visit doesn’t end with a well wish from the doctor. Instead, we spend the next few months in fear of the bills that we eventually get from the insurance company, the doctor’s office, the medical lab, and possibly even the bill collector when we can’t pay the first three. Even with effectively a five-hundred-dollar a month health care plan, I still must pay part of the lab testing results and sometimes what’s not covered by the doctor’s office.
