In the States I would have paid anywhere from $600 to $1,500 for the same work, depending on the type, location and material of the cap or crown. Dr Jesús charged me less than $300. The price came as a nice surprise. After the last appointment he gave me the bill, and I didn’t have that much cash with me. “That’s fine,” he said, “bring it in when you get it.”
Recently I had an eye problem and went to see an ophthalmologist in Mérida, Mexico. The doctor’s office was bright, immaculate, and had the same equipment I was used to in the States (as well as a couple of specialized, high-tech machines that aren’t routine equipment).
In Mexico, the sky is blue, the sun is shining, children are playing in the parks, and their parents are smiling. Life is as it’s always been…slow and happy and safe.
The other day I got sick—a pretty rare occurrence in all the years I’ve lived in sunny Mexico. Since it was a major holiday and offices were closed, I headed to the local clinic’s emergency room. A doctor examined me, took a case history, and prescribed some medications. The entire cost was about $38.
On a recent trip to the U.S., I got to catch up with a few State-side friends. One of them, I learned, is trying to schedule knee-replacement surgery. She had one knee operated on several years ago; now it’s time for the other. Fortunately, my friend’s insurance will cover most of the cost. But many people in the U.S. aren’t so lucky.
Many vacationers already know Chennai, India, for its long sandy beaches…and Costa Rica for its rich, tropical landscape.
Mexico’s President Felipe Calderon will visit Washington, D.C., today and tomorrow in a two-day meeting to cement the relationship between the U.S. and Mexico.
Insurance company profits showed strong first quarter growth in 2010, in one case soaring 51 percent.
A few months ago, an International Living article got our attention. Entitled “I’ve found Jesus…and he’s fixing my teeth,” it was written by Suzan Haskins about Dr. Jesus Sanchez, her dentist in Merida, Mexico.
When my husband and I announced that we were going to live our dream and move to La Paz, the capital of Baja California Sur in Mexico, our friends were aghast. No one believed that I could pull the plug and disappear to a hammock on the beach.
In Mexico, both private and government-sponsored health care insurance plans are easily available—and both options are extremely affordable. And with doctors’ visits and common medical procedures in Mexico costing perhaps a fourth of what they do in the U.S., many expats just pay out of pocket.
A few years ago a good friend in the U.S. used part of a hefty severance package from her high-profile sales job to get a complete facelift. She looked great afterwards—and for what she paid, she should have. She confided that the facelift, including both eyelids, set her back about $30,000.
I moved from California to live in Merida, Mexico five years ago. In this time, I have harbored a secret worry that if something goes wrong with me medically, the chance of disaster is higher here than it might be back home. A few months ago, an expat friend unintentionally served as a guinea pig for me, developing a medical condition worthy of hospitalization. She is a Canadian citizen from Vancouver who lives in Merida with a residence visa and without health insurance.
Whether your retirement is fast approaching or just something you find yourself often dreaming about, you’ve probably imagined spending it in some far-flung tropical haven. But moving to a country that you know little about is a lot of hassle, right? It’s probably not worth the time and effort, you think. Besides, all your family and friends are here.
