A Visit to the Doctor in Provence

I will confess – I was looking forward to visiting the doctor in France.

Not the being sick part, of course. We are self-employed, over-40, and I have a “pre-existing condition” so we are one of those families that the US healthcare system doesn’t really work for. I was very curious to see how a doctor visit in France would compare.

We got our chance last week. L sprained her ankle so we dug out the list of doctors that we got at Tourist Information (incredibly helpful place!) and found an office near us. JM called to see when we could come. Our first surprise came when THE DOCTOR answered the phone on the first ring – no receptionist, no voice mail.

There are walk-in hours from 9-12 every morning (appointments in the afternoon) so the doctor suggested we drop by. We walked into a tiny but modern building and saw a sign for “Salle de Dr. F (Room of Dr. F)“. We entered a small room that had a few people waiting, some chairs, a few magazines, and nothing else:  No receptionist. No nurse. No sign-in sheet. We sat down and waited like everyone else.

Every 10-15 minutes the doctor would open the door and the next person would go with her. Everyone waiting was very civil and knew exactly where they were in the order. Exactly one person would get up each time the doorknob turned.

The room had a price list posted.  22€ for an adult. Kids were more at 28€. Mileage was additional for house calls. (Yes, this doctor makes house calls!!!)

We waited for just under an hour for our turn. Lots of time to study the other people’s feet and realize that once again I was the only one in the room wearing white running shoes. Nothing else screams “American” quite like those shoes – except maybe a baseball cap.

When it was our turn the doctor firmly shook all our hands and walked us into a large office with a big desk and an examination table. Dr. F took L’s history directly onto the computer, put her on the table and confirmed it was a sprain, then typed up and printed a prescription – no illegible doctor handwriting here!

The visit ended with her giving us a bill for exactly the 28€ posted. She took Visa. We took the prescription to the pharmacy, and spent 8€.

(WARNING: I am about to sound bitter about the American health system. But it’s only because I am bitter.)

A similar visit in California would involve making an appointment for the one slot that the doctor had available that day, then waiting in the outside waiting room for 5-10 minutes. Then there would be a second wait of 10-30 minutes or more in the exam room, where there is nothing to distract the children. We’d be greeted by a receptionist, handed off to a nurse, and then see the doctor and repeat everything we told everyone already. We’d leave having had excellent medical care, but not having a clue what the visit would eventually cost.  (The last part is because of the self-insured thing – we have a high deductible plan to keep our premiums reasonable. It’s not the typical American experience.)

Then we’d go to the pharmacy with our handwritten prescription, where they would ask us what the writing meant and we’d have no idea, so they’d call the doctor’s office to confirm. If we were lucky the phone would be answered and we could go shopping for 15 minutes while they prepared the prescription. If we were unlucky the doctor wouldn’t answer and we’d have to return later in the day. If a generic is available the charge would be $20-30.  If no generic, we hold our breath and  pull out the credit card to wait for a nasty surprise.

Two months later the insurance and the doctor’s office would figure out what we owed, and we’d get a bill that we wouldn’t understand in spite of being highly educated – usually for about $120-180 on top of the $20 co-pay we had paid at the doctor’s office previously.

I did miss the fish tank in the pediatrician’s office in California, and depending on JM to communicate with the doctor is a BIG negative for me – but otherwise I kind of preferred the Provence way.