

There are two ways to get a doctor faster.
The first is to increase the supply of doctors: more doctors, more nurses, more beds in hospitals, more clinics, more MRI machines. Any government with a public healthcare system can do this at any time by allocating more funds to the public healthcare system, either increasing the taxes people pay, or diverting tax money from something else. If a country isn’t bankrupt and isn’t doing this, it’s a choice.
The second way is to have private clinics that use money as a way to skip triage. To allow wealthy people to pay their way ahead of poor people to the same small supply of doctors. This is the way most people who rail against public healthcare see the solution going, but the part they don’t say out loud is “I want poor people to suffer more so I can suffer less”. Because that’s what that solution is, it’s what it boils down to, but for some reason saying “I want to sell my suffering to the desperate” makes it feel less fun.












Ontario, Canada:
My wife had bad abdominal pains in the evening. She’s had period cramps before, and it wasn’t this. She’s even had ovarian cysts go, which were terrible, but weren’t this. So we went to the hospital. We sat in chairs for probably 5 hours, then got a physical exam by a doctor. They sent us for an ultrasound within the hospital to see if it was an ovarian cyst, but nothing showed on that. That took a few hours. Then we went for a CAT I think it was, also within the hospital, and that showed that it was a swollen appendix. Sat in chairs upstairs, not the entryway, for another hour or so, until the doctor came by and told us that she should probably have that out, but that it wasn’t an imminent emergency and so they’ll keep her overnight in case something happens, give some pain meds, and then have surgery the next morning when the OR opens again proper, because by now it was probably 2am.
So she got a bed upatairs, I went home and slept at home, then met her the next morning back in her room. She did have a roommate in her room, and that roomie sucked, so that’s unfortunate. Then she went for surgery while I watched TV in the waiting room, then she was rolled out and stayed in a recovery room for a few hours while the anaesthesia wore off. The nurse came by and gave us medication to take, along with a prescription for some other meds, and some instructions, and we went on our way. The surgery was laparoscopic, so it only took a week or so to heal, and she was up and shuffling by the end of that first day.
All told, it was probably about 18 hours beginning to end, but that included some sleep in the middle. And, importantly, she didn’t die at any point in that process.
At no point in this process did my money leave my pocket. Money was simply not discussed. When weighing the options of going to the hospital versus staying home, or staying in the hospital overnight versus going home, or having the surgery versus not, or having a laparoscopic surgery versus not, money was never a factor. At all times our collective concern was on the health of my wife.
Her surprise appendicitis didn’t impact our life in any way, besides the one day we spent hanging out at the hospital.