I have done some pretty scary things in my life. I once bungee-jumped deep into a ravine in New Zealand, for example. But nothing holds a candle to what I went through last Wednesday. I did something I have dreaded for years.
I got sick in America.
Those regular readers I have left may recall that for the past month I've been in Los Angeles. Oh, I've been right in my element, blithely running into celebs on Melrose and pretending to be unfazed about it when really I want to wet my pants with excitement.
I recently got drunk with Cindy from The Brady Bunch, and last week while visiting a patient at Cedars-Sinai I saw the girl who plays Carly on Nickelodeon's iCarly. She's broken her leg _ I wonder if I just scooped the E! channel by writing that.
And while I do enjoy the States immensely, one thing I absolutely dread is getting sick. I enjoy robust health. I am proud to say that any medicine or drugs I take are purely recreational.
This puts me in the minority in America, where it appears the entire country is medicated. Teenage angst? Put 'em on ADD drugs! A little stressed at work? Nothing Effexor can't help!
I have comprehensive private insurance in Thailand, where a trip to my local doctor is so cheap it's almost not worth having the insurance. It's kind of fun getting sick in Thailand; you get all these brightly coloured pills and the hospital invariably has a Starbucks and even, in the case of Bumrungrad, a McDonalds. How convenient is that? Blow your cholesterol levels on a Big Mac before your regular checkup. Don't you love Thailand?
I don't know how or where I caught "strep" _ I didn't really know what it was before this week _ do we have strep in Thailand? But I started to get a sore throat on Monday. Luckily I had my Ibuprofen, the 400mg ones purchased from my saviour, the Thai guy who runs the seedy drug store on Surawong.
Alas, I am currently 8,000km from Surawong Road, and by Tuesday I could hardly swallow for the agony.
I needed to see a doctor.
This gave me chills way more than the sore throat did. The thought of the bill was scarier than the strep. I'd heard horror stories here of hospitals asking patients which finger they wanted to amputate, since their health care only covered one hand.
Plus there are no drop-in clinics at hospitals like we have in more modern countries like Thailand. If anything the hospitals are more expensive here. But I did find one clinic on Sunset Boulevard that took in poor souls who didn't make appointments.
I took a deep breath. I gathered my credit card. And I waied the gods.
Please, please don't make this break the bank.
As I approached the Sunset Medical Center, I became more frightened, since it was a nice big building, and nice big buildings invariably mean nice big medical bills.
I drove into the carpark. I could not park the car myself. Here in the United States they have this scam called "valet parking". You go to a restaurant where a man takes your car and, for anything from US$8 to $20 (250 to 600 baht), parks it for you. Then you gotta tip the guy when he returns it _ like, what exactly was I paying him eight bucks in the first place for?
Well the Sunset Medical Center had valet parking, not to mention a rate of $2.50 every 15 minutes.
Strep or no strep, I was in a race against time. I rushed up to the clinic on the seventh floor. The receptionist was friendly but intolerant of fools.
"I'm, er, in a bit of a hurry," I said.
She made me fill out two pages of questions, asking me things like who my insurance provider was. "I'll pay cash," I said, and she looked at me as if I'd said "I'm in the final stages of leprosy." I admit I didn't look my best _ hey, I had strep! _ and she asked if I had a credit card.
Other formalities were supplying the name of my next of kin, and agreeing that in the event of my death I would not sue the medical centre.
I didn't know strep could kill you, not to mention how I might sue after I passed away.
By the time I saw the doctor I'd already run up $7.50 in parking fees.
Doctor?
"Hi I'm Tina" said an attractive young lady in a blue outfit. I wanted to shout out: "You're not a doctor!" but I couldn't shout out anything owing to my condition.
Tina the paramedic asked what was wrong.
"I have a pain in my throat," I said. "My gland is swollen on the right side. I think it might be strep."
She asked me to stick out my tongue and go "ahhh".
She nodded.
"Yes, you have a swollen gland on the right side. You probably have strep." Didn't I just say that? She wrote me a prescription for Augmentin then said goodbye with a friendly wave of her paramedic hand.
Seven minutes. That's how long I spent with Tina. The bill came to $130. That works out at $18.50 a minute, or about 30 cents every second I was with her.
I took my prescription to my local Ralph's supermarket where a severe-looking man with buck teeth asked if I wanted generic or brand name Augmentin.
Now you must believe me, dear reader, normally I wouldn't be seen dead carrying around generic anything. Once I took generic Cialis and was laughed out of the short-term hotel. But I'd just coughed up $130 for paramedical care and if I had to lay out another 20 bucks or so for drugs, then I wasn't about to complain.
"Yes, yes, generic's fine," I said, my eyes darting around to make sure nobody was listening.
"Ninety-five dollars," the buck-toothed man said.
"No, no, you heard wrong. I want the generic brand," I said.
Now we were both in disbelief; me about the cost of generic drugs, and him witnessing a human being in America without insurance.
"Triple A?" he asked curtly.
"What's that?" I answered, and he rolled his eyes.
"It's an automobile club," he said.
The drug store man looked at me like I'd performed a heinous act on his sister. "Come back in 20 minutes," he said.
All in all my pathetic little strep throat cost me $250, or 7,500 baht. What with the paramedic fee ($130), parking ($11), tip for valet ($2), drugs ($95) and some more ibuprofen ($20), it was the most expensive sore throat I'd ever had.
I am yearning for the civilised way we do it in Thailand. Had I gotten strep in Samut Prakan I would have taken myself down to Sikharin Hospital where, for probably 1,500 baht I would have seen a real live doctor in a white coat, and come home with a swag of pretty-colored pills. For a fifth of the price in the USA.
As I write, I am recovering nicely, thank you, so no need to send flowers, though a bottle of brandy would be good since it's apparently wonderful for recovering strep victims. Oh I made that up, just like I made up bungee-jumping in New Zealand. Don't get mad. It's the strep talking.
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