Paracetamol, Empathy, and the Cost of Silence: My Experience with the Dutch Healthcare System

By Peter Cardi – Amsterdam, 10.05. 2025

I never thought I would write this. Not because I lacked words, but because I kept waiting—waiting for a solution, for understanding, for a human response.

But after months of frustration, pain, and unanswered needs, it’s time to speak up.

As a journalist, creator, and European citizen, I have lived in different countries and experienced various healthcare systems. And sadly, I must say that my experience in Amsterdam has been one of the most disappointing.

The Illusion of Care

When you pay over €170 per month in health insurance, plus nearly €500 annually in deductibles, you expect a minimum standard of care. But what happens when that “care” feels like a cold, robotic transaction?

Over the past months, I’ve visited general practitioners (huisartsen) in Amsterdam for different health concerns—some painful, others urgent. The response has been alarmingly consistent: “Take paracetamol and ibuprofen.” No real examination. No further investigation. No emotional presence. Just a pre-programmed script.

I’ve lived in Madrid, where care means action.

In Spain, a swelling in the mouth was examined and treated immediately. An eye irritation? Flushed, scanned, diagnosed. That’s care. That’s responsibility.

And even in Venezuela—my homeland, a country facing a severe humanitarian crisis—there’s still an effort to help. A stomach infection? You get an injection. Immediate relief. Human connection. Somehow, with far fewer resources, doctors there often show more vocación, more presence.

But in Amsterdam? I felt like a number. A file. A financial obligation.

The Silent Epidemic of Negligence

The real danger is not just the lack of proper treatment. It’s the emotional toll. The helplessness. The growing feeling that your pain is being dismissed. That your suffering doesn’t “qualify” as urgent.

And that’s where systems fail—not in the paperwork, but in the humanity.

This model of “minimal intervention” might be framed as encouraging natural healing. But when it ignores obvious pain, and when it becomes the only response, it turns negligent.

Worse still, when you add the dental system, the situation gets absurd. A single cavity can cost hundreds. Appointments are short, expensive, and sometimes feel more like a sales pitch than a healing process.

What are we paying for?

A receptionist? A form? A rushed consultation followed by paracetamol?

What Can Be Done

I’m not just here to complain. I’m here to demand better—for myself, and for others who have felt dismissed by this system.

1. We need ethical, human-centered medical practice.

2. We need accessible specialists and second opinions without months of waiting.

3. We need transparency in pricing and real consequences for malpractice.

4. We need patients to speak up. Loudly. Publicly. Together.

If you’re reading this and you’ve experienced something similar, you’re not alone. It’s time we stop accepting this standard. We’re not asking for luxury—we’re asking for dignity.

To the Dutch healthcare system:

You can do better. You must do better. Because behind every appointment, every insurance bill, every “standard procedure,” there is a person. A life. A story.

I am one of them.

I am Peter Cardi.

And I’m done staying silent.