Have you ever seen that meme that says something like “what country has ever been able to make universal healthcare work?” and then it lists every single democratic country except ours? (plus a few others—see below) Well, this post is to say, I’m wishing about now that I lived in any one of them, while realizing that it’s probable none of them would want me, as a retired person with no work years left to share and with the sole intent of loving them for their benefits.

I have been looking, on and off for a while now (when my ADD didn’t distract me for weeks or months at a time) for a naturopathic doctor who could and would look at the underlying reasons for my extreme inflammation and find a link to thyroid, cortisol, hormones, gut biomes, or whatever, just maybe discovering a way to counteract some of what ails me, thus providing me with a better, more mobile lifestyle. I haven’t yet found one, but I had renewed hope recently when someone asked me if I had looked at “functional” doctors (I had never heard that name before), who apparently combine the best bits of naturopathy and traditional medicine, and specialize in diagnostics.

I immediately went to the internet and started searching under that term, and I actually found three or four located in the San Fernando Valley! This was my first goal, because I have trouble driving long distances now and don’t want to get invested, once again, in treatment that requires driving 35 miles to get it, thus counteracting any benefits I might receive as my legs swell and hurt while I sit in L.A. traffic. I then found out that a friend of mine had actually been to one of those doctors in the past and had had a good experience, so this week I made an appointment for a half-hour phone call to see if they were right for me and to find out the details of being treated at their wellness center.

I was delighted to discover that the doctor who practiced there did indeed have experience working with both lipedema and lymphedema patients (the staff member who was conducting the call actually knew what lipedema was), so I asked her to explain the next steps. It was an eye-opener that led me to reaffirm that in America, health is pretty much only for the wealthy.

There would be an initial 90-minute to two-hour visit in which the doctor would discuss my condition(s) with me in-depth, to decide if she could help me and to lay out a course of treatment we would follow. This visit costs $350, and it seemed totally worth it to get these insights and make a plan. But then…

The staff member informed me that they don’t do single visits other than this one, that theirs is a mandatory membership program, and that they don’t accept insurance. I could either pay up front or make a series of two- or three-month installment payments, with a one-year commitment. There are two levels on offer: The first consists of four booked 45-minute appointments per year, at which I would be seen by either their nurse-practitioner or the medical doctor, with no guarantees as to who would see me; the second plan has the same number of appointments, but you are guaranteed to meet with the MD for all of them. In addition, you have access to unlimited “ER visits,” and blood draw services are included but testing/lab work is not.

She noted that they would provide paperwork so you could submit visits and lab work to your insurance, and that Medicare didn’t usually cover the doctor visits but would “probably” pay for the lab work, or at least some portion of it. When I inquired, I was told that an “ER” visit could be accessed by presenting with some symptom uncommon to my usual health—a cough, extra pain or swelling, dizziness, running a fever, etc. and that although it wasn’t a booked appointment, they would see me if I called ahead to notify them I was coming.

Then we got down to prices. The first alternative (four visits with no guarantee of seeing the doctor) is $9,000. The second (guaranteed MD) is $15,000. Yeah, sit with those prices for a minute. Think about the fact that I already pay around $525 a month for healthcare (with a partial reimbursement from my retirement plan, but it’s still more than $300 per month). Recognize that even though this is concierge medicine, the fees are not going to cover your regular doctor visits to specialists such as cardiologists or urologists or podiatrists or gynecologists, so you’re still gonna need that insurance. Contemplate that I am a retired person with a tiny pension based on an 11-year career, supplemented by Social Security (that may go away at any moment following January 20th of next year) and an annuity from my thrifty good-provider father that will be depleted in three short years.

Consider that I just sacked my savings to re-roof more than half of my house for $15K, and got new copper plumbing to replace my 75-year-old galvanized for $9K. Recognize that I still need to pay for my new furnace, re-roof the rest of the house, paint it indoors and out in the near future, and still have enough left over to, I don’t know, BUY GROCERIES and pay the utilities bill?!

I guess, if you’re not wealthy, you keep looking for cheaper alternatives, and/or you try to figure it out yourself by talking to others with the same maladies, performing experiments on yourself, and hoping for a little luck. Or a lot of luck.

Yes, I am truly grateful that I do have those retirement funds that provide a roof over my head, functional plumbing, food on my table, and all the other benefits. I pay a homeless guy to water my flower beds, herb garden, and fruit trees every week and, until a few weeks ago when his name came up in the lottery to get a tiny home in a county community in Sunland, he was living in a tent beside the Los Angeles River and cooking over a campfire. Now he takes two buses to get to my place, and then goes on to do various chores for two other “clients” he has lined up in the neighborhood, and prays to stay healthy while he does it. I know I’m lucky. But geez—who do you have to be in this country to “deserve” to access health if you don’t possess it naturally?