Summer 2000

I was in the late shift busy refilling the ink reservoirs of the printing machine. The ink we used came from 2,5 liter cans. We had a special tool to open the cans, but ofcourse, us, experienced printers never used those and always used the iron ink spatulas with which we scooped out the ink into the reservoirs.
Experienced as I was, I'd already once managed to hack the ink spatula into my thumb when it slid from under the lid of the can and I was always relatively careful to open a can. But now I was a tad bit in a hurry, because I was running out of ink and I needed the refill fast.
I planted the spatula firmly under the edge of the lid, and yanked it upwards like I always did. Only now it didn't open the can, but it slid again from under the lid, and straight into my thumb. Because of the pressure I had put on the spatula, it disappeared into my thumb about 1,5 cms, leaving a big blotch of yellow ink behind in the wound.
This didn't look good at all, and I knew I had to go see the doctor to have it cleaned and probably to get a tetanus injection. My own doctor was on holidays, so I had to go to my former doctor, whom I left due to various reasons. I came to his office and after having to wait for some 15 minutes he took a look at the wound. He cleaned it, and decided that I needed a tetanus injection, since it had been over 10 years when I last had one.
Then he surprised me by telling me that he had only one dose of the required stuff left and that I had to get some from the pharmacy. I couldn't believe what I heard. He wanted ME to go to the pharmacy to get the injection.
I asked why and if he couldn't give me that last shot and have someone go to the pharmacy later to fill up his closet. Then to my — even bigger — surprise he started squirming about MONEY. Those tetanus injections cost something like 8 € and he had come across situations where people hadn't paid for them. For god's sake!
I got majorly annoyed with him and told him that I had an insurance, and that he knew it, because I had been on his list of patients. And that everything he used would be declared to my insurance. And then I told him that if it would ease his conscience I could also pay cash. Only when I pulled out my wallet and put money on his table, he told me that it was ok and that insurance would take care of it.

I know things have to be paid, and I also know that some people don't always pay. But really. If you are a doctor, what's then more important? Did you become a doctor for the satisfaction of a shitload of money on your account every month or did you become a doctor because you are in a position to help and cure people and save lives?
What the hell is wrong with today's society?
Suppose that I had been an older man or woman about to have a heart attack? Would he still have told them "I'm sorry, but I only have one shot left, can you walk over to the pharmacy to get your own life-saving medication, because I'm not sure I will get it paid. You might die on me while I give you that last shot and I will never see my money."
Isn't that a bit sick?