What a French Doctor’s Office Taught Me About Health Care

I moved to Europe because I couldn’t afford to be a cancer patient in America. I’d rather have been able to stay home.

TOURS, France — A dozen of us sit expectantly in the orthopedic surgeon’s waiting room. We’re here for follow-ups. Some, like me, have had bunions removed. Others have had hips or knees replaced. Most are older women.

The copies of Paris Match and Le Monde on the table are at least six months old. The only artwork is a framed print of Claude Monet’s “Poppy Fields Near Argenteuil.” Since I’m only two weeks out from surgery and can’t drive, I came by taxi. The fare was underwritten by the French social security system, known familiarly as la Sécu, which also provides health insurance for all residents.

The woman seated opposite me tells me she’s on her second bunion surgery. Her doctor, a top orthopedic surgeon, charges more than the normal Sécu compensation, as do many specialists. Most French people purchase a supplementary insurance plan to cover costs not picked up by la Sécu. As a French resident and taxpayer, I have one too.

Another woman is recovering from a hip replacement. Medical chat is common in French waiting rooms. If the wait is long, everyone comes to know everything about one another’s complaints.

To my friends in the United States, this casual attitude seems foolish, even risky. But in France, medical privacy is irrelevant. No one will lose her job because of a lengthy convalescence. There is no possibility that pre-existing conditions will make insurance unaffordable. Unemployed people still receive treatment. Huge medical bills do not reduce ordinary citizens to a state of existential terror.

The absence of unease over health care alters the texture of French experience. We get cozy in waiting rooms... (continues)