Italy has a perfectly fine public
health system, but it doesn’t encourage audience participation. Here’s Ralph’s
story. One year ago he wobbled into my office barely on the mend from food
poisoning, the sitting-on-the-toilet-holding-a-bucket-to-barf-in kind, that had
started 10 hours after having a burger and shake at one of Rome’s forty-one
McDonald’s. Obvious food poisoning, and a menace to other customers.
Being a good citizen I set out to
make a formal report so an investigator could be dispatched to start testing
those Big Macs. After dialing a dozen health department numbers trying to find
out how, I finally found someone who knew the correct answer: forget it,
Dottoressa. In the UK a physician who suspects restaurant-acquired
gastroenteritis is legally obliged to report it, and in the US it’s strongly
advised. In Italy, the physician can’t do a thing – by law, I was told, only
the injured person him- or herself can do the reporting.
When I passed this information on to Ralph,
he proved to be an even better citizen than me. He tracked down the address of
the proper office and trotted over there the next day. The man behind the desk heard
him out then said, “OK, before we start our investigation we need your receipt
for that meal.” My patient made the Italian both-palms-up gesture of
astonishment: “You must be kidding. There's no way I'd have held onto the receipt for a fast-food hamburger I ate a week ago.” Employee: “What, no
receipt? You threw it away on your way home? Sorry,” he said, tossing the
report in the trash. “We can’t take your complaint if we don’t first have proof
you ate that night at McDonald’s.”