Last year, I wrote about Andrei Borodin, a Russian expat who, following a suspected case of methanol poisoning, spent a month in the emergency room at Bali’s BIMC Nusa Dua private hospital.

The care was first-class.

BIMC has received accreditation from the Australian Council on Healthcare Standards International and has achieved “mastery” level in its reviews. But patients often describe it as “ridiculously expensive”.

Andrei’s bill for the month came to $128,000, without surgery. A mate from Australia recently found himself in a similar situation when he became the victim of a hit-and-run accident while holidaying in Bali. His wife took him to Siloam Hospital in Kuta, which is highly regarded and described as modern with clean facilities, and professional English-speaking staff in independent reviews. The radiology department at Siloam discovered my mate had a ruptured spleen, and rushed him to the operating theatre, probably saving his life.

But like BIMC, Siloam has a reputation for charging an arm and a leg. By the time he was discharged, he’d racked up a bill for $26,000. And because, like so many foreigners in Bali, he was riding without a proper licence, his insurance wouldn’t cover him. Last month, I faced the same nightmare scenario. I experienced a serious medical problem while doing what I thought was just a bit of adventure, but which my insurer considered an extreme sport. My medical problem had nothing to do with the sport but my insurer wouldn’t budge. For failing to declare that I was undertaking a high-risk activity, my insurance policy was declared null and void. While my medical problem was serious and required specialised treatment, it did not require emergency treatment, which gave me time to shop around. So I got quotes from both Siloam and BIMC. But they were sky-high. So high, in fact, that it would have cost me less to fly back to Australia to seek treatment, as some of the cost would have been covered under Medicare. I also tried the new Bali International Hospital in Sanur, which has a world-class oncology centre operated as a partnership with Australia’s Icon Cancer Centre. Surprisingly, their quote was more reasonable than both Siloam and BIMC, though still well into four-figure territory.

Then I came across Kasih Ibu, a group of four mid-size private hospitals. The first one was established as a maternity clinic in the capital in 1987. Four years later, it was converted into a general hospital. And it, too, has mixed reviews. Patients credit it for having professional doctors and nurses, clean facilities, and for saving lives, though some have reported high costs and strict deposit requirements, especially for foreigners.

But the quote they offered me for my treatment was significantly less than the competition. A consultation with a specialist, for example, was $45. In Australia, specialists charge $200-$400-plus before Medicare rebates. Making an appointment through the hospital’s WhatsApp receptionist was easy. Getting there was not; it took an hour and a half in a taxi. But from the moment I arrived, starting with the doorman who opened my door and led me inside, I was treated like a VIP. Kasih Ibu isn’t a big shiny hospital set in a tall building in a nice part of town. It’s more like a big old hospital set in a double-storey building in an Aussie country town. The interior is stuck in the 1980s. Hilariously, there’s a full-size convenience store in the lobby and a Chin-Do restaurant with neon signs. The patients? With the exception of one or two Westerners, they were all Balinese, middle-class by the look of them. I spent the next three days going backwards and forwards to the hospital, doing test after test. A week later I came back to see a specialist. He was young, positive, intelligent, and cool. But he didn’t sugar-coat my problem. I have a disease, he said. There is no cure and it is often fatal. But with modern medicine, healthy lifestyle choices and regular hospital check-ups, managing the disease would be straightforward, which is where I am now.

And the bill?

It came to just over $1000 — significantly less than other private hospitals in Bali would’ve charged me for the same thing. PS Before I finish, a disclaimer: I have no medical knowledge, and this is not an advice column. It’s just one person’s experience, written under a pseudonym. But every word is true, and this story came from the heart. Every year, hundreds of Australian tourists end up in similar situations in Bali: needing medical care and being uninsured. Adding insult to injury, many also get ripped off. I’m not saying Kasih Ibu is the answer for every problem. What I am saying is that if it’s not an emergency, it pays to shop around for health services in Bali.

Original source: au