Why the Danes are so happy, even when they're sick
Health care is free, but it comes with a price -- high taxes.
BY SUSAN AGER
Detroit Free Press
DETROIT --
My doctor told me not to cancel my vacation just because I had blood in my urine, with no other symptoms. But do get checked, he said, as soon as you're back.
Besides, he said, ``You can trust the Danish medical system, maybe more than our own.''
Sixteen hours after our plane landed in Copenhagen, as I lay deep in the death-like sleep of the jet-lagged, a night visitor stabbed me in the back with a pick ax.
Or so it felt.
We waited till dawn to awaken our host and ask for a ride to the ER. He drove us that Saturday morning to Herlev Sygehus (or hospital) in suburban Copenhagen, where I became yet another beneficiary of a truly universal health care system like we'll never see here.
Wracked by pain, I was whisked into the back ahead of others in the ER, none of whom was bleeding from a knife or gunshot wound. Well before my problem was diagnosed, I was handed a pain-killing suppository and told where to put it.
An orderly wheeled me to a room on the 22nd floor of the hospital whose 23 stories make it the tallest building in Denmark. Red, yellow and blue brightened the walls. My husband was offered a meal and told that if I spent the night, he could sleep in the bed beside me.
After a CT scan and a couple of X-rays, the doctor told me, in good English, that I had a kidney stone, not so big it needed to be blasted apart, but big enough that it would cause pain until I passed it. On Monday, she wanted to do a radioactive test to make sure the stone hadn't damaged the kidney.
She asked: Would I like to spend the next couple nights right there, so they could manage my pain?
I blanched. In the United States, a night at a hospital can cost $1,000 or more. I didn't know whether our U.S. insurance would cover care in Denmark. I decided to return to our friend's house, taking with me a handful of suppositories a nurse handed to me, just like that.
Two days later, I was led to my previous bed, which still had my name on it. I snoozed until I was wheeled away for the final test, after which nurses waved good-bye and reminded me I could come back any time if I had problems.
A few hours later, the doctor phoned to say my kidney looked fine.
That's the whole story.
Nobody ever asked for a credit card. Nobody asked for an insurance card. Nobody asked for my address.
It's true Danes pay among the highest taxes in the world. But their system provides not only free health care but free long-term care, including 24/7 home care, and generous unemployment and education benefits.
We'd never stand for taxes so high. But the appeal of such a system is powerful, and it might help explain Denmark's ranking in a huge UNESCO study this year as the happiest nation on Earth.
No one ever need worry, as millions of Americans do, about being sick, broke and alone.
http://www.miamiherald.com/299/story/150380.html
Health care is free, but it comes with a price -- high taxes.
BY SUSAN AGER
Detroit Free Press
DETROIT --
My doctor told me not to cancel my vacation just because I had blood in my urine, with no other symptoms. But do get checked, he said, as soon as you're back.
Besides, he said, ``You can trust the Danish medical system, maybe more than our own.''
Sixteen hours after our plane landed in Copenhagen, as I lay deep in the death-like sleep of the jet-lagged, a night visitor stabbed me in the back with a pick ax.
Or so it felt.
We waited till dawn to awaken our host and ask for a ride to the ER. He drove us that Saturday morning to Herlev Sygehus (or hospital) in suburban Copenhagen, where I became yet another beneficiary of a truly universal health care system like we'll never see here.
Wracked by pain, I was whisked into the back ahead of others in the ER, none of whom was bleeding from a knife or gunshot wound. Well before my problem was diagnosed, I was handed a pain-killing suppository and told where to put it.
An orderly wheeled me to a room on the 22nd floor of the hospital whose 23 stories make it the tallest building in Denmark. Red, yellow and blue brightened the walls. My husband was offered a meal and told that if I spent the night, he could sleep in the bed beside me.
After a CT scan and a couple of X-rays, the doctor told me, in good English, that I had a kidney stone, not so big it needed to be blasted apart, but big enough that it would cause pain until I passed it. On Monday, she wanted to do a radioactive test to make sure the stone hadn't damaged the kidney.
She asked: Would I like to spend the next couple nights right there, so they could manage my pain?
I blanched. In the United States, a night at a hospital can cost $1,000 or more. I didn't know whether our U.S. insurance would cover care in Denmark. I decided to return to our friend's house, taking with me a handful of suppositories a nurse handed to me, just like that.
Two days later, I was led to my previous bed, which still had my name on it. I snoozed until I was wheeled away for the final test, after which nurses waved good-bye and reminded me I could come back any time if I had problems.
A few hours later, the doctor phoned to say my kidney looked fine.
That's the whole story.
Nobody ever asked for a credit card. Nobody asked for an insurance card. Nobody asked for my address.
It's true Danes pay among the highest taxes in the world. But their system provides not only free health care but free long-term care, including 24/7 home care, and generous unemployment and education benefits.
We'd never stand for taxes so high. But the appeal of such a system is powerful, and it might help explain Denmark's ranking in a huge UNESCO study this year as the happiest nation on Earth.
No one ever need worry, as millions of Americans do, about being sick, broke and alone.
http://www.miamiherald.com/299/story/150380.html
posted by Bill at 4:44 AM
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