Free is not the same as free
Just like in retail, to get what you are after in our government run medical system, you have to show up early. Today, I went shopping for a “physical” at my local clinic. Caught a transit bus just after dawn, joined the queue around the railing overlooking the mall and when the doors to the clinic opened, I took my number and joined the assembled masses to wait for my turn to plead my case.
You see, my own family doctor (who I’ve not actually seen in years, other than at a graduation ceremony for son #2 some years ago) isn’t available on short notice. Or long notice. Nor is the only colleague that I know by name. I threw my case before the courts (the group of people that take care of the paperwork in the local clinic and they are numerous) and one person took mercy and acted as my guardian angel. Even though the doctor on call had no interest in the boring prod, poke and palpate of an examination, he agreed to “do the paperwork” anyhow, since this was a prerequisite to surgery.
Medicine is “sort of ” free up here in Canada. We pay a large part of our tax revenues to those with the magical powers (a suffix is as good as a wand). Still, some things require that one ante up at the table. Two “vingts” and a smile got me a signature on a form. And a receipt, although I have no idea what to do with one. After only two hours, my form had been faxed to the hospital, and I was free to meander off in the direction of home.
