Ravi S. Narasimhan

Anyone got a cure for medical ills?

By Ravi S. Narasimhan (China Daily)
Updated: 2005-12-09 06:11

During an extended visit to Beijing two winters ago, I needed medical attention for - I thought - a tummy ache.

A colleague took me to the foreigners' section of a leading hospital in the city where the doctor, after subjecting me to what seemed a battery of tests, told me to go for an endoscopy (the one where they shove a thick tube, with a camera attached, down your throat).

I was reconciled to this painful invasion of my body when as an afterthought, she asked me to go for an HIV test.

I did a double take. And following popular scripts, went through the whole gamut of emotions: Why me? Anger. Denial. Grief. Tears. Acceptance. And resignation.

But that's what I think happens when an apparently healthy person is told he has cancer. But it felt pretty much the same.

But why, I asked, tentatively.

Just in case I have an abrasion during endoscopy and infect someone who might have a wound or whatever.

Astonished as I was at this logic, I couldn't but help mentally saluting the good doctor for her abundant caution - I wish the Dehui City blood bank in Jinlin which accepted donations (bought illegally, it is rumoured) 15 times in 18 months from an HIV-infected man had checked him at least once.

When his blood was used for transfusions, it infected at least 18 people including three who died. The scandal surfaced in October and was widely reported this week.

If this seemed like criminal negligence of the worst degree, something almost as egregious happened in Harbin..

The family of a 75-year-old man who died of cancer may have to fork out 10 million yuan (yes, about US$1.23 million; and there is no printer's devil here) for his two-month treatment.

For perspective, the average Chinese income is about US$180 for two months and per capita government expenditure on health care in 2002 was 442 yuan (US$55), according to Ministry of Health figures.

Among the things the Harbin hospital was reported to have charged the old man of receiving transmission of various kinds of medication on average of 20 litres a day.

"The expense of medical care is people's biggest social complaint," the man's son told Xinhua after the case was widely reported on CCTV.

If you're not an expatriate, I'll let you into a little secret - that's one of the biggest complaints of foreigners, too. My own unscientific, straw poll suggests that healthcare is one of the biggest concerns for foreign families.

Hospitals seem to assume that every expatriate comes with a fat-cat salary, unlimited perks and medical expenses taken care of by insurance or the employer.

But for every one such person, there might be up to 10 on modest salaries - the thousands of teachers, media professionals or those working on local terms.

At gatherings where the weather is not holding the attention, a good hospital story seems to do the trick. You have people trying to trump each other on horror stories of Dr Evil and Mr Bean Counter. Even foreign insurance companies, which collect hefty premiums, seem to baulk at reimbursements.

One colleague's gripe: It cost 2,000 yuan (US$250) to be treated for symptoms of flu and cold (including a dozen tests, of course) at a well-known private hospital.

Her bigger gripe: it takes hours to fill in insurance forms, a day for the checkups and weeks to be reimbursed.

Her solution: She goes to a local clinic along with someone who speaks Putonghua. The bill for the same ailment: 50 yuan (US$6).

So anyone with ideas on how to deal with this problem is welcome to email me at the address below.

Me? I've figured out what to do. I carry some antacid with me - my stomach condition mentioned earlier was apparently because of some over-indulgence - it was the Christmas season, after all.

Email: ravi@chinadaily.com.cn

(China Daily 12/09/2005 page4)