What to Do in Paris if You Get Sick

BREAK GLASS ON THIS LITTLE GUIDE 

Book­mark this in case you get a weird rash/sick in the mid­dle of the night/feel like you need pro­fes­sion­al help   but you are unsure whether a hos­pi­tal emer­gency wait­ing room is what you need. I hope you don’t need this! But if you do…

What’s the emergency line called in France? 

If it’s an emer­gency: dial 112,  the uni­ver­sal, Euro­pean, num­ber for get­ting an ambu­lance asap. It’s a gen­er­al emer­gency line, so be pre­pared to explain, « J’ai besoin d’une ambu­lance s’il vous plaît », because they are also field­ing calls for quich­es on fire and stolen baguettes. 

Bonus: some­times the fire­men are the first respon­ders and THEY DO NOT DISAPPOINT (if you know what I mean). Like if you have your arm stuck in a bulk-sized jar of Nutel­la that is wedged between the wall and the cab­i­net of your AirBnB, they will res­cue you, hot­ly. You will die of shame any­way, but 22 year old French guys from the coun­try­side will use les Jaws-de-Life on your greasy arm and your life will flash before your eyes . « What did I ever see in Phi Beta Carotene bros back home? »

And yay for Social Democ­ra­cy !  Our health care is world-class and access to it is held in an even more sacred place by the French than that of Notre Dame cathe­dral, so your bill will be très petite. #civ­i­lizedAF

I need help but not a hospital

In Paris, we have house-call doc­tors.

Yes, like straight-up, 1800s, Lit­tle House on the Prairie. The ser­vice is called SOS Medecins. It’s a non-prof­it orga­ni­za­tion that cov­ers 70% of French ter­ri­to­ry (Paris def includ­ed). It was found­ed in the ’60s after a doc­tor, Mar­cel Las­car, had a patient die over a week­end. Out­raged that one can get a bust­ed toi­let fixed on Sat­ur­day night but you could per­ish in your bed, he found­ed SOS Medecins. 

It’s about 80 euros (cash or French check only, no for­eign check accept­ed) and they come to you at your AirBnb, hotel, Tinder-date’s place, etc., in about 30 min­utes. Per­fect for those times when you don’t think you need the E.R. but you can’t wait to get an appoint­ment (shout-out to the ladies sus­cep­ti­ble to trav­el UTIs). Some­times they show up on motor­cy­cles embla­zoned with an ‘SOS Medecins’ sign, which they then park on the side­walk like OUTLAWS. It is the most badass way ever to get a sprained wrist treat­ed after you fell off the elec­tric trot­tinette. France IS civ­i­lized AF. 

SOS Medecins — 01 47 07 77 77
(if dial­ing from a for­eign phone: +33 1 47 07 77 77)
www.sosmedecins.fr/en/

I need to see a doctor but not at 2 a.m. 

If you can wait until dawn, www.doctolib.com finds you gen­er­al prac­ti­tion­ers or spe­cial­ists, and you can tog­gle results for ‘appoint­ment today’ and ‘speaks Eng­lish’. Many a ran­dom rash have been treat­ed this way by your dear, aller­gy-prone, chem­i­cal hair col­or-lov­ing author.

PS: www.Reverso.net is a supe­ri­or trans­la­tor to Google and will tell you how to say, “It burns,” en Français.

It burns down there but I can still go get a crepe and sit in this cafe in semi-denial

It’s day­time, you can still walk around, but some­thing just isn’t right. Try an open phar­ma­cy. No, Amer­i­cans, those green cross­es don’t mean, « WEED! » (although in one bright spot of 2022, it appears that weed is, in fact mak­ing its way to France), they mean « DRUGS! » And, as fel­low suf­fer­ers know, a call com­ing from below on vaca­tion is a gate­way to open­ly fuck­ing talk­ing about your sex life to a stranger in a white lab coat with a line behind you (social Dis­tance, mer­ci ). Yes, this has hap­pened before. French Phar­ma­cists know when to send you to a doc­tor, but they don’t mess around. They can help you with­out the pri­or steps (pre-load Rever­so before you approach the counter in the event that you lack French lan­guage skills).

The problem is in my mouth 

Some­times you need a den­tal inter­ven­tion at the worst pos­si­ble moment, like the night before you were sup­posed to pro­pose to your girl­friend in front of the bust of Jim Mor­ri­son, but instead you were mosh­ing to the impromp­tu trum­pet sec­tion at Bar Les Idiots and you ‘kissed’ the mar­ble bust of Molière a lit­tle too hard dur­ing a night out. You are doubly‑f*cked: a morn­ing of unex­pect­ed den­tal work instead of a Best Crois­sants of Paris tour and no pro­pos­al this time round. The unbear­able sharp­ness of hav­ing teeth (now FOR SURE Milan Kun­dera — clos­est thing we have to God in Paris besides Cédric Gro­let and his cakes — will nev­er be my friend).

Don’t wor­ry though. You can still do Le Crois­sants Walk, as we call it. Crois­sants are flaky and 9 out of 10 den­tists rec­om­mend eat­ing at least 3 every morn­ing, plus one pain au choco­lat.

SOS Den­taire — www.sos-dentaire.com

HUGS NOT DRUGS AND DRUGS

Did you know the French are the most med­icat­ed peo­ple on plan­et Earth? Social­ism and lack of hes­i­ta­tion to bran­dish rev­o­lu­tion­ary ten­den­cies means nev­er hav­ing to say, 

I’ll just use half a dose of insulin, thanks.

We have 24/7 phar­ma­cies but you have to know where to look :

Near the Champs-Elysées? Pub­li­cis Phar­ma­cy is 24/7 (and con­fus­ing­ly locat­ed in the same build­ing as Le Drug­store, which is a restau­rant), 133 Av. des Champs-Élysées, 8th arrondissement

Near the Eif­fel Tow­er? Phar­ma­cie Cen­trale, 52 rue du Com­merce, 15th arrondissement

Near the Bastille/Republique? La Phar­ma de Répu, 5 place de la République, 3rd Arrondissement

Near Pigalle/Montmartre? Pharam­cie Inter­na­tionale, 5 place Pigalle, 9th arrondisse­ment or Phara­ma­cie Europeen, 6 place de Clichy, 9th arrondissement

Also, late-night phar­ma­cy list here: www.bit.ly/ineeddrugs . ‘Late-night’ in Paris = 9pm FYI.

Bon courage, as we say in France!

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Indeco­rous Cul­turevore and Poly­chrome Chow Vir­tu­osa Kat Walk­er likes nice things.

She once went to a job inter­view for that was sup­posed to be for sales but was actu­al­ly for pros­ti­tu­tion (the high-class ver­sion, she hopes lol) at a fan­cy hotel in the shad­ow of the Eif­fel Tow­er (arti­cle com­ing soon) and, anoth­er time inter­viewed for a posi­tion as a phone psychic.

She passed both with fly­ing col­ors. How­ev­er she declined the human traf­fick­ing posi­tion but stuck around longer than she should have to be able to write about it. (Are you not entertained?)

As for the tele­phone psy­chic gig, she only last­ed one day, even though the pay was excel­lent. Wooooooo…..She sees you sub­scrib­ing to our week­ly PARIS RIGHT NOW dis­patch . There is also a man in your future.

Now she is set­tled in as your Edi­tor-in-Mis­chief here, lead­ing the charge to not take Paris so damn seriously…let’s frol­ic a bit, non?

She writes fast and with­out pru­dence so if you enjoy this type of thing, edi­tors aren’t free so here is le Patre­on

When she’s not writ­ing about crois­sants, love, cul­ture, and lov­able, sexy crois­sants, she is a gonzo per­for­mance artist whip­ping up a (usu­al­ly) polit­i­cal ruckus. Her rab­ble rous­ing has pro­voked the atten­tion of var­i­ous pub­lic forums, like the time she appeared in the movie The Yes Men Fix the World as Russ­ian jour­nal­ist Lai­ka Gaga­ri­na or was fea­tured in Roll­Cal­l’s Heard on the Hill for her mock­ery of the U.S. sen­ate. Oth­er efforts have land­ed her in the Le Nou­v­el Obser­va­teur, Chica­go Sun-Times, Chica­go Tri­bune, and the Reader.

In oth­er places and oth­er lives, the actu­al live guy who played Ross on Friends came to see her show at a NYC gallery.

She has nev­er had a weird­er lunch than that one when an FBI infor­mant offered to kill her busi­ness part­ner for her.

She declined (phew) and that’s why she’s here, freely- and un-jailed-ly writ­ing about crois­sants and per­verts and the Eif­fel Tow­er (in that order, usu­al­ly) for PARIS > DEFINED MAGAZINE.

Her per­fect­ly impos­si­ble din­ner in Paris would be at Pierre Sang on Gam­bey (the wait­er choos­es the wine) with Gen­e­sis P. Orridge, Napoleon Bona­parte (he picks up the tab and the wait­er knows this in advance when pick­ing wines), Christo­pher Hitchens, Anais Nin, and Ket­a­mine in atten­dance. Drinks after at le17 but back in time, like 2017.

Her favorite French word is ‘bruit’ but only when a hot girl says it slowly.

In a bid for your atten­tion and approval she writes things here and man­ages this unruly tribe of Parisians endeav­or­ing to bring you what Paris­ing is real­ly about.

Sub­scribe HERE to the P > D newslet­ter for a week­ly dose of her, and the rest of the ram­bunc­tious and per­fect­ly depraved gals’ tren­chant and thought-pro­vok­ing opin­ions. Or tune in to their high­brow cul­ture com­men­tary and bike rid­ing through Paris on PARIS » D E F I N E D TV.

If you are mash­ing out a mes­sage to warn her of her crimes against gram­mar and punc­tu­a­tion save your time because she knows, she knows.

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