While staying with friends just outside London in May ’06, I woke up one morning with a sore throat and a husky voice. I told my friends I had better catch the next flight back to California in case I was coming down with something.
They suggested I see a doctor first, but, it being Sunday, I imagined that, like in the U.S., that meant a trip to the E.R. in a hospital, a wait of two or three hours and a bill for three or four hundred dollars. My friend insisted it was no problem; the National Health Service had a Sunday clinic nearby.
When we arrived, I was asked to fill out one piece of paper, giving them my name, address, age and sex and the nature of my complaint. There was no mention of money, insurance, credit cards, etc.
After a short wait, I saw the doctor and she checked my symptoms and told me I had a bacterial infection. After determining I was not allergic to penicillin, she gave me the necessary medication.
When I checked at reception about paying, I was assured there was no charge.
It was all so efficient and so friendly and very reassuring to see that the national health system worked extremely well.
JOHN M. ELLIS
Hemet, CA
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