David Tizzard is a professor at Seoul Women’s University, holds a PhD in Korean Studies, and hosts the Korea Deconstructed podcast. He has lived and worked in Seoul for more than two decades. Reach him at datizzard@swu.ac.kr.
Korea Wow! Much Awesome
By David Tizzard
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By David A. Tizzard
The bad news and disasters go on the front page. The “intellectuals” write about the problems and, more importantly, how and why people should pay more attention to their solutions. And any good news is either a fluff piece or a badly veiled advertisement.
Despite this tripartite function of modern print media, I am going to continue to buck the trend somewhat by providing another reason why I like Korea: The healthcare.
I have spent the past week in a hospital ― a shared room with six other men of various ages, as well as their children, partners and visiting well-wishers. Extra significance was surely added because it was Christmas.
This would give most foreign visitors ample ammunition to fire at a fast-changing society.
It would be possible to rally against the old man that didn't hold a door for me or the woman that didn't perhaps move as quickly out of the way of my IV drip as an Englishwoman would.
Yet, I have returned home more infatuated with the nation and its people than ever. The resilience and collective attitude that has seen South Korea become an economic powerhouse was there ― evident in the men and women of that hospital, in patients, workers and visitors, alike.
But before you stop reading because I'm edging dangerously close to using words such as “han” and “jeong” in a weekend op-ed, there's something that should not go unsaid. The cost.
And whatever it might be, it's arguably currently money well spent. South Korea ranked first in the OECD for healthcare access in 2015 and its women enjoy the fifth-best life expectancy. Its treatment of various cancers also saw it occupy the top two places in three different categories.
That all seems a far cry from June this year when a South Korean couple in San Francisco were presented with an $18,000 hospital bill for treatment that included little more than a bottle of formula for their young baby.
Returning domestically, as with most things in contemporary Korean society, much of what is experienced here today has its origins in both early Christian missionaries and Park Chung-hee.
In 1977, the Park administration passed a law that mandated medical insurance for the employees and dependents of all firms with more than 500 people on the books.
Two years later, this was extended to government employees, private school teachers and workplaces with more than 300 people. These early Korean models and approaches to healthcare were based on the Japanese system in terms of coverage, administration and funding.
Through the rocky roads of the IMF, Kim Dae-jung's pledges of large funds, and the separation of medical care and pharmaceutical reimbursement in 2000, South Korean healthcare now stands ready for more decisions.
One thoughtful example is the movement on Jeju Island that is vocally against for-profit hospitals and medical institutions. And the Jejuenese might just have a point. Korea currently suffers from an excessive use of antibiotics, has more magnetic resonance imagining machines (per million people) than anywhere in the world and cesarean delivery rates are high despite falling birth numbers.
Perhaps for a small enclosed community, with its specific economic and legal zones, non-profit hospitals are the way forward for the island. But what then of the rest of the country?
My week-long stay certainly wasn't cheap and we will likely be on the kimbap for the next week or two as we try to cover the costs. But, importantly, I was rather satisfied from my time inside.
The hospital was clean and well maintained. The CT scans and X-rays were carried out with state-of-the art equipment that would have not looked out of place in the computer game series “Portal,” as they moved along electronic rails in the ceiling.
There was a full staff of courteous nurses who made themselves available without qualms 24 hours of the day. Even when faced with a currently winter-bearded Westerner, they carried on as normal. One of them, admittedly, was a bit more forceful than necessary when putting the thermometer in my ear and other patients confirmed this in our lunchtime discussions.
Yet I felt trust in both their professionalism and ability. I also received Kakao messages of my doctor's whereabouts and availability and had the ability to ask questions and seek guidance through my mobile. I was provided with anything I required and more. And the people around us, some suffering far worse than my gopchang injury, were also seemingly aware that this was indeed a good hospital.
I do not know the future of Korean healthcare, nor do I profess any solutions. I will also reiterate that such things in society are generally part of a tradeoff. Things are often only made better at the expense of others. What would need to be sacrificed to improve the current system further? Questions for those brighter than me, perhaps.
However, my respect and gratitude are extended to those that work tirelessly in the Korean healthcare field while many others out in society eat, drink and play over the festive period. Perhaps now I'll join in again. Just for one, though, of course.
David Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) is an assistant professor at Seoul Women's University.