We Flew to Paris for a Week for a Heart Scan and It Was Still Cheaper Than an Insured Scan in the US
- Rachel Ogilby
- Mar 16
- 6 min read
Updated: Mar 18
We flew to Paris, France for a week for our son’s heart scan because the whole trip was still cheaper than the insured scan in the United States. I know, it sounds ridiculous. That's because it is.
“Merci, madame. Au revoir!” The secretary handed me a few documents. I slipped my son’s heart images and impressions into a folder and neatly tucked it into the stroller.
I made a mental note to reach out to the doctor again in a few days if I hadn’t received the English version yet. While I could understand the French description of the heart scan, I knew that our American cardiologist would appreciate a version that didn’t require him to translate.
We left the office building and walked down the charming avenue, dotted with cafes and shops, black iron flowers swirling on the residential balconies. We passed two flower shops and a small park. The metro whooooshed overhead, the iconic line 6 which had an incredible view of the Eiffel Tower when you rode over the Seine river.

We walked towards Champs de Mars, the park which also led to an impressive view of the Eiffel Tower.
“Eiffel Tower now!!!” my three year old demanded, his little voice punctuated by the emotion that came with a time zone change, a complete transformation in scenery and routine, and his recent requirement to sit still on grandma’s lap for thirty minutes while his little brother received an echocardiogram.
“Yes baby, we’re about to see the Eiffel Tower!” I said back, relieved that we would finally scratch his itch to see this national monument. In lieu of a TV, we had a large piece of artwork in our living room with the Eiffel Tower on it. Lady Eiffel, baguettes and croissants were some of our most common talking points leading up to our trip to Paris.
We were living in the US now, but had lived in France for the past three years. Both our babies were born there, and during my second trimester we discovered our youngest son, Robert, had Tetralogy of Fallot. He received amazing care at Necker Hospital and had corrective open-heart surgery when he was 6 months old.
Robert required heart scans frequently after surgery while we were living in Paris. The scans cost us 170 euros, or about 180 US dollars. These were reimbursed fully while my husband was an employee in France, partly by the social security system and partly through the private insurance (“mutuelle”) legally required to be offered to all French employees.

Fast forward to a year later, and we were back living in the United States. The transition had been difficult, with the cost of living making it impossible to survive on one paycheck (as we did in France) and the food made us feel sluggish and arthritic. However, we were thrilled to be near family and friends and even back in our own walkable city.
During our transition back to the USA, we were often asked what we loved the most about France. They were always surprised to hear me respond, “the healthcare system”.
We’ve been influenced (dare I say manipulated?) to believe that the United States is the best at most things. Many of us have been led to believe that a socialized healthcare system would result in delayed care, long waits, or suffering. However, I experienced the opposite – I had amazing, preventative prenatal and postnatal care, two births, pelvic floor therapy, mid-wife visits, pediatrician appointments, dental care, eye care, and more in France.
We were in for a rude awakening when we made our first appointment with our American cardiologist.
Due to the No Surprise Act, hospitals in the US are required to notify you of an “estimate” before receiving care. On our way to our first appointment (which included a visit with the doctor, an echocardiogram and an ECG), I received an email from the hospital with an estimate.
“3600?!?!?!” I yelled out loud to my husband, who was driving. “This can’t be right.”
Upon arriving to the appointment, we expressed our dismay at the bill we were anticipating. Our team of providers were sympathetic and understanding – they offered to delay the scan and ECG until we could talk to our insurance and find out why the costs were so high. We all wondered if there had been a mistake.
Weeks later, after making hours and hours of phone calls, it was determined that there was no mistake. Even though we were fully insured, and paid for health insurance, our out of pocket expenses for the required testing of our 18 month old would cost $3600.
We could try going to another health care system, but we wanted to keep our provider. We could try keeping our provider and getting the scans elsewhere, but the amount of phone calls and discussions I had about this made it feel impossible. It seemed unlikely this was a sustainable option. If we wanted to keep our provider, we were stuck with these costs. We felt we had the best provider in our area, and wanted to stay with him.

I cried out of frustration, feeling angry that the system was so expensive. I knew it didn't have to be like this. My son's entire open heart surgery in France cost us... nothing.
I became particularly infuriated during one specific phone call with financial services. I explained our predicament, and that we would require these scans twice a year for the next 18 years.
“I can’t afford to pay $3600 twice a year for the next two decades,” I said.
The financial planner’s advice was… unexpected. She offered, “Oh, you know you can just not pay the bills, let them build up, and then apply for charity!”
I was so dumbfounded I didn’t know what to say. “Wait.. this is Patient Advocate Services, right? Are you telling me that my plan for affording my son’s healthcare should be simply not paying for it and then applying for charity?!?”
Our cardiologist was patient, understanding, and thorough. We felt that he was a great physician, we just couldn’t figure out how to remain under his care with the costs.
Incredibly, he eventually found a way for us to receive a complimentary scan by bringing our situation to his board of directors. It was a one-time exception, but offered us some breathing room while we tried to figure out a sustainable method for the next scan. In my most critical moments, I wondered how it was possible that the scan could cost so much money, and yet the healthcare organization could just “waive” the fee. Clearly, it didn’t need to be so costly.
We needed another scan in the spring, and again, I received emails with cost estimates. “$3400” I read out loud. “You know, this costs less than 200 dollars in France?!?”
Suddenly, I had an idea. After going back and forth about our options, I reached out to our cardiologist back in France. “I know this might sound crazy… but can I just fly back to Paris and pay the 170 euros out of pocket?” I asked. "Oui, madame, pas de problem."

This became the new plan. If I was going to spent $3400, I might as well enjoy a week in Paris with it. I hatched the plan, drew up a rough budget and presented it to my husband.
“Flight, hotel, food, and entertainment included, it’s all less than the price of the scan here in the US,” I said.
My husband couldn’t make the trip because of work, but my mom was game. Our American cardiologist was also on board with the plan, and just requested that he received the physical images of the scan along with the impressions.
On March 5th, we boarded the flight, taking the 8 hour overnight, non-stop trip to Paris from Detroit. Robert sat in my lap, our three year old in his seat between my mom and I.
A new email pinged through my phone; I must have forgotten to turn it on airplane mode.
“Oh, a new estimate,” I read to my mom. “Looks like if Robert was going to get his heart scan in the US, it now costs $3700, not $3400.”
I rolled my eyes, then closed them, dreaming of my next croissant, just a mere 8 hour plane ride away.

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