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I’ve been skiing at least 10 times in my life and all in all I’ve only suffered from sore shins and the occasional blister. I always assumed that if I got hurt, it would be doing something cool— like crushing a superpipe or something. I never imagined it would be from getting tangled in my partner’s skis while hopping off the lift. One leg went one way, the other went another. Life’s like that sometimes. After the incident, I managed to ski down (not the best idea it turns out), hobble to the ski lodge, grab some ice off the balcony railing, and attempt damage control. I realized later that night when I couldn’t stand up without falling over it was serious.
As a Portuguese citizen visiting the Italian Dolomites, I assumed I would be able to crawl into a public hospital, show my Cartão Europeu de Seguro de Doença (European Health Insurance Card), receive the care I needed, and be on my way. I also knew there are other ways of protecting middle-aged bones with supplementary travel medical insurance built for adventurers and digital nomads like the SafetyWing Essential plan for travel and medical emergencies, along with optional protection for adventure sports and electronics theft.
What’s great about these kinds of programs is that, in the event of a situation like mine where public healthcare isn’t readily available, you can go in, pay the (large) sum out of pocket, file a claim, and get reimbursed.
Luckily, my partner had the clairvoyance to sign the whole family up for alpine supplementary insurance (complete with helicopter rescue!), so I felt a lot better knowing I was covered, but also pissed off that I hadn’t called in for my free helicopter ride.
I knew that with supplementary insurance like Safety Wing, the process would be straightforward. Just follow the checklist, send the necessary documents, and get reimbursed. What terrified me was the thought of dealing with Portuguese health center bureaucracy to get one of those documents. There would certainly be papers to file, receipts to scan, and letters to request, but hey, how hard could it be? I’m sure they deal with things like this all the time. Right?
Should I go to the clinic? Should I suck it up? So many questions. So much pain.
First, I tried to tell myself I didn’t need to go to the clinic. It was my son’s birthday and he wanted to see the ponies again after getting some hot chocolate. That sounded like way more fun. Plus, I knew from reading the clinic’s Google reviews in the middle of the night that they would take some expensive X-rays and send me out of there with a top-of-the-line knee brace.
Then, I started doom scrolling and reading about untreated joint cracks, pulls, and tears. So, I decided it was better to be safe and poor than crippled and slightly less poor. I tried to get some sleep.
Sure enough, the next morning they found that I had torn the meniscus on my right knee and fitted me for a brace. One thousand euros later, I was on my feet beginning my walk back to the lodge with a sprain on my knee, pride, and bank account.
Even if it meant bleeding more money, I decided the best way to lift my spirits in this particular nook of the Dolomites was sitting down for a hot bowl of canderli soup— a mix of bread and speck rolled into a meatball and swimming in a beautiful broth. Any one of the restaurants lining the main street would do as long as they served wine before lunch. I wouldn’t be skiing anywhere anyway and I was ready to start feeling sorry for myself and after the second glass, embrace my new life as a bionic ski bunny.
I ordered and kept up with my research. Several sites told me that I would need to make a claim to the Portuguese Segurança Social’s e-clic online platform to get the process started. The platform looked like a labrynth of industry-specific terminology mixed with tax codes and legal mumbo jumbo. Things just kept getting better.
The warm soup, brought me out of my funk just enough to consider ways I could enjoy the snowy mountains even with a pegleg. After a day or so of recovery, I found that short, slow walks seemed to help with the healing process, especially the hike up to meet my partner and watch him zip down a black diamond. At least I could offer my opinions on his form and technique.
When I got back home to Lisbon, I submitted my receipts and medical documents on the e-clic platform about a dozen times over the next few months. I chose a different methodology each time as none of them made sense to me, even with my translate plugin running in the background. Still, none of my claims seemed to go through properly. I imagine I spent about six or seven hours on this process alone.
Infuriated and confused, I called a doctor friend and asked his professional opinion. He had no clue what I was talking about. If I wasn’t discouraged before I sure as hell was at this point.
The next time I was at the Centro Saude, I asked the ladies at the front desk clicking away on their keyboards what I should do. They stared at me blankly. The phone had been ringing, unanswered, for about an hour. It wasn’t looking good. Finally the most senior of them took pity on me and asked me to deliver the original copies to them.
The next day, I brought my official-looking folder to the counter. The lady took it and said they’d be in touch. I didn’t get a receipt, I didn’t have to sign anything. I don’t even remember if I showed them my citizen card at this point— six months since I turned in my papers, and a year since the accident. Still nothing. I don’t even know if it’s pending. I’ve alerted my doctor and he tells me he’s looking into it so all I can do is wait.
The time spent chasing this money is beginning to even out to my hourly working rate. And I don’t even know if I’ll receive anything at all. The good news is that my knee is back to 100%, and it’s a good thing because I’m pretty sure I’ll have lots more walking to do before this gets sorted out. It gives a whole new meaning to the expression “No pain, no gain.” I think I’m due for another bowl of canderli. And more wine.
So what’s the takeaway here? Try not to get hurt, but if you do, be patient. And go public.
