I left my $ in San Francisco

It is an expensive, very expensive city.  Having lived in Europe for so many years, I was shocked.  I assumed that nothing – with the exception of Switzerland — could be more expensive than the French Riviera where I now live.

San Francisco proved me wrong. Following are some costs I found outrageous:      

       

1 small box of Tylenol 500mg (pain reliever like paracetamol) $8.  The equivalent here about 2 euros, $2.16

1 glass of house wine in a restaurant, $14. At restaurants I frequent here, usually from 5 to 8 euros, $5.40-$8.64.

In both San Francisco and southern France, prices vary from one locale to another. In most cases, however, San Francisco seems over the top. I was surprised to learn that prices in much of the US may not be significantly less. While walking through a supermarket with my brother Steve, I asked, “How can people afford these prices?”  “They can’t” he answered.  “That’s why Trump will become president.” Hope he’s wrong.

The above costs were bad enough, but the whopper for me was $16,700 for emergency room treatment and a night spent in “observation” at the University of California San Francisco hospital.

I tripped over a scooter parked half way on the sidewalk, fell, broke my wrist and smashed my face.  Hence the hospital.

I do not have Medicare, nor American health insurance.  In France I benefit from socialized medicine (most costs covered), but I have a travel/medical insurance. Let’s hope I get reimbursed.

The San Francisco visit was not vacation. I went to see my brother Tom who had been diagnosed with terminal cancer.  Sadly, he has since passed away, but I am grateful I had the opportunity to spend time with him. He was a special guy, very kind, generous and liked by all.

Due to the accident, my stay in San Francisco was not as long as planned.  I had a cast from my wrist to my elbow and had been told to come back to the orthopedic clinic in two weeks.  Fortunately, after a week I returned to France and saw a specialist.  The wrist should have been operated on immediately after the accident, I learned.  The doctor was concerned that due to the time delay, the surgery might not be completely successful.  I am lucky. So far, all is on track.  

The surgery here has cost nothing.  I will need to pay the specialist his fee: 370 euros (about $400).  There would have been no extra charge for a regular hospital staff doctor.   Surgery in the US? That price tag would have added a heart attack to my woes.

The hospital bill was overwhelming.  Abby, the very caring intern assigned to me, insisted on numerous X-rays and cat scans. A cat scan of my head; $3,288; cat scan of spine, $4,734; shoulder X-ray, $402, plus other X-rays.  The charge for one night in observation, $6,780.  Not much happened.  I slept.  

There were plenty of other hefty charges. This was a simple broken wrist.  What happens to those in the US who have serious medical conditions and no medical insurance?  It’s criminal – both the exorbitant charges and the lack of insurance for all.

On the positive side, an aspect of the US I relish is people: friendly, helpful, smiling.   As I lay on the sidewalk with a bloody face and painful wrist, passers-by were eager to offer assistance. I was alone, in pain, in shock, not to mention somewhat frightened.  As readers of this blog know, I have recently had far more serious mishaps. I feared the worst. The concern from strangers was comforting.

One couple, nurses, determined I had broken my wrist.  The young woman gently wiped blood from my face.  Her partner called an ambulance.  Someone asked if I had been riding the scooter.  OMG! Had that been the case, I would not be writing this blog

From taxi and Uber drivers to waiters and waitresses, from nurses to hotel personnel, I found people interesting, delightful, and not shy to converse and tell their stories.  A taxi driver from Vietnam, now a citizen, told me how he came to the US.  An Uber driver related the details of his job. A young Moroccan who pushed me in a wheel chair at the airport was happy with her job but missed her country.

They came from distant lands, not just those mentioned above.  Mexico. China.  Philippines. Ethiopia. Turkey. Nigeria…. Hard working folk, not drug addicts, rapists and criminals.  Immigrants make the US.  I can’t imagine how San Francisco would survive without them.  

As I read somewhere, the country is a quilt, far more interesting than a boring sheet. 

My San Francisco visit left little time for sightseeing.  If circumstances had been different and I had had time to experience the city’s attractions, perhaps I would have left my heart there too, not just my $.

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