In August and September, my wife and I spent three weeks in Europe, including five days in Paris toward the end of the trip. Early during the journey, my wife developed a cough, which kept getting progressively worse. I observed how her health slowly deteriorated over two weeks. Finally, as we were walking out of Versailles, she could hardly function anymore as her breathing became very labored.

I called an Uber and took her to l’Hôpital Paris Saint-Joseph. I randomly picked it as it was close to our hotel. We arrived at the emergency room around 3:00pm. My limited, 50-year-old rusty French was not up to the task of complex medical terminology, and the English of the French hospital’s staff and doctors was also limited.

As we checked in, they charged € 800 on our credit card as an advance.

My wife then spent six full hours in the emergency room while I waited. She was seen by several doctors, and had a full EKG and a CT scan done. They put her on an IV drip to re-hydrate. After eliminating many frightening scenarios, they diagnosed her with bilateral pneumonia, advised that she stop traveling and just get rest. The prescription included a strong antibiotic and a pain killer. While she was there, they provided the first dose of the antibiotic. The language barrier was severe, particularly communicating complex medical terms. The doctors ran their summary report through Google Translate and we received the report printed in two languages so we could take it home to her personal physician. The service was prompt, very courteous and thorough, and my wife, always positive, was impressed with one of the doctors, who she said looked “like a chiseled Greek god from the Louvre.”

I was not looking forward to the bill that would eventually come. Given limited experiences in American emergency rooms, I expected a bill for thousands of Euros.

Last week it came: € 541.

Amazing.

PS: We took it very easy traveling home and she is now finally and slowly recovering.