An Irishgirl abroad — New York life through a European lens

Counterintuitive thinking on healthcare

Posted in Healthcare, New York by Frieda on July 25, 2010

My shoes: hazardous to the health but clearly worth it

A number of years ago I was invited to a lovely and rather posh wedding in Oxford. I was discreetly placed at the ‘singles’ table beside an eligible doctor, in the hope that a spark might strike. That wasn’t to be. Intrigued by the English health system I asked him about his job; instead of any softer feelings my presence inspired a rant, about the horrible patients who bugged this poor doctor with their stupid worries about colds and minor ailments. Being slightly hypochondriacal, I sided with the patients.

Fast forward a few years: now living in the US, my experience of healthcare is very different and I recall with fondness the days when a trip to the doctor required nothing more than a phonecall and £6.30 for a prescription. I have health insurance of a kind (travel insurance) and I get yearly check-ups, but any superfluous doctoral visits are few and far between. I’m not the only one. At my hairdresser’s the other day, one of the stylists was limping awkwardly. It turns out she’d been wearing high heels, and made the mistake of playing football with her nephew. The result was disastrous — she broke her toe — but instead of going to the doctor, she patched it up herself, strapping it to the other toe as a nurse might have done (admittedly, she was still wearing the heels in question when I saw her so perhaps the break wasn’t that bad).

In the US, where at least 47 million people are uninsured, this sort of DIY healthcare is commonplace. Pharmacists sometimes help out, dispensing antibiotics without prescriptions (I think that’s illegal but correct me if I’m wrong). The medications you can buy over the counter are stronger than those available in Europe and presumably there’s a reason for that. People hobble on home-made canes and wait for nature to do its work unaided.

When I fell off my bike recently, I realized that my emergency Plan B — flying home to Ireland nursing my injury — would be difficult, and intensely painful, to carry out (Plan  A is just do nothing and hope for the best). My arm was extremely sore and it took days to heal. Luckily, it wasn’t broken; I got antibiotics from a sympathetic chemist and avoided an infection.

On some levels this self-care version of healthcare is good. It saves government money, and makes people hardier and less susceptible to self-indulgent anxieties. The uninsured are unlikely to waste a doctor’s time because they have a cold if it means they’ll have to shell out $150. But the real cost is a heavy one, for it must mean that early diagnosis of serious illness is less frequent.

Nor does a lack of insurance stop people taking risks, as my hairdressing-friend’s high-heeled soccer accident shows. It hasn’t stopped me either. Undeterred by her story I recently purchased a pair of rather dangerous summer sandals. I’ll just take care and avoid sidewalk-cracks and hope I don’t fall. It’s an uneasy balance, but I bet that doctor would be pleased.

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Sale: 50% off selected puppies

Posted in Healthcare, New York by Frieda on November 3, 2009
puppy

Pooches like this one were going cheap

Today I was up in Yonkers, doing some research on a story on health-care for Irish immigrants. It’s a hard-to-get-to (from Brooklyn) part of New York state, beyond the Bronx, and Irish people have tended to congregate there in an enclave far from NYC. Please correct me if I’m wrong — and I know some bits of Yonkers are nicer than others — but it seems a godforsaken place.  The medical center I visited (Docs, 471 Central Park Avenue, not recommended!) was right on a highway, although tinted glass prevented drivers from peering in. An old couple bickered in the lobby, the woman who was obviously a smoker, coughing phlegmily — she wasn’t the one to see the doctor, though, her hunched little husband was.

When I left, to check out another medical center, I passed by a nearby shop named, “Exotic Pets,” and felt drawn in. Not for long. The smell of animals was pretty overwhelming.  I saw nothing exotic, unless you count squawking white parrots. Mostly, I saw lots of puppies, four to a cage. They were all types — furry, smooth haired, with snouty noses, wrinkled skin. Kitten were in cages right beside them, cleaning themselves blithely. The cutest inmates were the labradors: tiny pups, cream and black-coloured, just like in Andrex tissue ads. They looked like newborns.

I wanted to take them all home with me, but of course I couldn’t. Outside, I noticed that puppies with huge eyes, and kittens, were painted on the walls on either side of the shop. And I saw the saddest sign ever: “Sale: 50% off selected puppies and kittens.” The bigger ones, I bet.

(PS. I didn’t bring my camera to Yonkers. I stole the above pic from an intriguing UK blog)