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HOME ECONOMICS

I admit it, I have paid for private healthcare. Oh, the relief

The Times

I once edited a guide to the best 250 doctors that was given away with a magazine. I interviewed every single doctor, often listening to them wax lyrical about the NHS. Mischievously, I sometimes asked if they had private healthcare. Almost all did, quickly adding that by doing so they were taking the pressure off the system.
Of course.

One conclusion to draw is that doctors love the principle of the NHS but know the reality all too well and don’t want to depend on it when they or someone they love is unwell, and you want a quick diagnosis to find out if they have cancer.

I use the NHS quite a bit with son number one. And increasingly he is being signed off because his long-term physio needs are too expensive.

Two doctors, while referring him to other NHS departments where they know he will be passed on like a hot potato, have told me that that their non-official advice is to seek treatment from the private sector, much as it pains them to say it.

And so, we have started paying for his treatment, and frankly it is a relief. The doctors and physios we see aren’t any better, but the organisation is, and I don’t spend half my life chasing referral letters that disappear in the postal system or cyberspace.

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But private healthcare is expensive to pay for, and socially awkward to admit to using.

Much as the doctors who I interviewed for the magazine guide felt the need to justify their decision to go private, I am now doing the same in this column, feeling the need to explain why we have part opted out of the NHS.

There is a complex argument to be had over healthcare funding, whether it can be right to buy something that can be life-changing when poorer people cannot afford it — even if it does reduce the pressure on the NHS.

Such issues are somewhat above my pay grade, but what I do know is that going private doesn’t have to mean signing up to an insurance policy that commits you to between £600 and £3,000 a year (more if you are in London).

You can also self-insure, which is a fancy way of saying that you can save up, so when you need to pay you have a pot of money ready and it doesn’t cause you to go into debt.

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A GP who didn’t want to be named felt this was a better way to go rather than paying for costly insurance policies. In his view, private healthcare does have a role, but usually for non-urgent problems. While the NHS is better for strokes and heart attacks, he suggests that, if you can afford it, private healthcare can be the right choice for procedures such as hip and knee replacements, which affect your quality of life but have long waiting lists on the NHS.

Setting up a direct debit that puts 5 per cent of your salary into a health pot, alongside a holiday fund, and a general emergency fund, could certainly do no harm.

This may not be necessary when you are young and healthy, but perhaps something to start when you have children or start feeling more mortal

Take the path of least resistance

A class camping trip and the imminent prospect of leaving his parents for the first time meant the Hewitson household had a nervous 11-year-old recently. My eldest suggested a solution to his nerves — in the form of an app (obviously).

Headspace is a guided meditation and mindfulness app. On the morning of his trip, we both lay on my bed at 7.30am listening to a man with an impossibly smooth voice, who you can’t imagine ever having an argument or swearing, telling us to gauge whether our bodies felt heavy or light and telling us to allow any sounds and thoughts to come and go.

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It was great. It made a difference to my son, and I loved doing it with him. We spoke about making it a daily occurrence (and of course we haven’t done it since).

To try the app free of charge, we had to sign up to the service without giving our card details. As my son was in charge of the app, he typed in his email address, which he has barely used and has never given to a company before.

What we unwittingly started was an audit of the way and frequency with which companies these days try to flog you their service, even if the service in question is designed to offer you calm and respite (the irony of a mindfulness app relentlessly flogging its wares has not escaped me).

My son has had nine emails, offering escalating amounts off the Headspace fee. It started with 20 per cent “just for you this week” with a follow-up soon after to remind him that the deal was about to expire.

Three days later, we were offered 30 per cent off — also available “just this week” only for that to drop to 40 per cent off four days later, taking the annual membership fee from £50 a year to £29.99.

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I am intrigued to see how far this will go. Will Headspace soon be paying us to listen? That would really lower my stress levels.

The lesson learnt is that if you want money off a service the best thing is not to haggle on email or the phone, or suggest you have found an identical service cheaper elsewhere — but to do absolutely nothing.

Or as the headspace app would term it: ignore the noise, register the deals without engaging them too much and let them pass. If you are patient enough, you will be rewarded with a bigger deal.

Thank you, Headspace, for inadvertedly introducing me to the mindful approach to money saving. Namaste.