The French model rocks. Worked there for a year, got real French health plan. My agent, a helpful communist gentleman well on his way to looking like Willy Nelson, was surprised that I didn't do the maybe 15 Euro/month upgrade that would provide me with a private hospital room. Nah, I was in France to talk to people and learn the language, I wanted a hospital roomie.
Had to visit local GP to prove I wasn't a danger to the Health of ze République. (In French fashion this was required after I'd already worked there for months, hopefully not spreading plague.) Doc looked me up and down, and told me that some people were built to play rugby, and I was not. So stop playing rugby. 15 Euros.
Mama Canecutter came to visit, fell down stairs, hurt her foot. Hotel called a doctor, who made a housecall, apologetically billed us about 20 Euros because she wasn't in the system, and we hobbled around the corner to a pharmacy where they made the ankle brace he prescribed for peanuts, they doted on her, and she was right as rain.
In fact, French pharmacies do lots of consulting that here would require a Doc-in-the-Box. You walk in, tell em what hurts, and they'll lay out a few choices and you pick the one you want. Done deal.