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HEALTH

Flu cases on the rise in Germany: When (and how) should you take sick leave?

Following a dip in infections around the turn of the year, flu and respiratory illness rates are spiking again. Thankfully German labour laws ensure that workers have plenty of opportunity to take time off when they are sick.

A stethoscope and thermometer
A stethoscope and thermometer on a table in a doctor's office. Photo: Charly TRIBALLEAU / AFP

If it feels like everyone is falling ill around you, it may be because the flu is on the rise again in Germany this week.

According to a report by the Robert Koch Institute, which collects data on flu incidents in Germany, acute respiratory disease incidence is up this week compared with the week before. Last week the incidence of respiratory illness was around 7,300 per 100,000 people, as opposed to 6,700 in the previous week. 

The report suggests that respiratory illness “has been increasing since mid-2023,” peaking in December, with an incidence rate that has lingered above pre-pandemic levels for a few weeks.

The estimated incidence of Covid-19 has been trending downward compared to previous years, with the recent spike in illness attributed mainly to influenza viruses, RSV, and rhinoviruses. 

Similar to previous years, the current spike in infections followed a short dip near the turn of the year. This trend is likely related to a person’s level of contact increasing as they return to work after the winter holidays.

Is illness to blame for Germany becoming Europe’s ‘sick man’?

Starting last autumn, headlines began referring to Germany as a ‘sick man,’ due to its poor economic performance in 2023.

‘Sick man of Europe’ is a term, dating back to the early 1800s, given to countries that experience economic difficulties and related social unrest. But in this case, the label can be applied somewhat literally. 

According to a report by VFA, Germany’s association of research-based pharmaceutical companies, a record level of sick leave taken by German workers last year played a significant role in the country slipping into an economic recession. 

“Without the above-average sick days, the German economy would have grown by almost 0.5 per cent,” VFA said in a report released in January.

However, the report also explains that Germany’s economic performance may be more immediately linked to its dependence on exports, elevated energy costs, and a global slump in investment.

When is it okay to call in sick to work?

German workers are notoriously given a fair amount of sick time, and they’re not afraid to use it. 

According to the Information Service of the German Economic Institute (IWD), employees in Germany took an average of 22 sick days in 2022. In comparison, workers in the UK take an average of 4.6 sick days each year according to the UK’s office for National Statistics, and US citizens are known to take even less than that.

READ ALSO: Herbal tea and sick leave – An American’s ode to the German attitude towards health

German employers are legally required to accept up to 30 paid sick days per year, but more time off (paid for by health insurance) is allowed.

Thirty absences in a year is probably excessive in most cases, exceptional circumstances aside. But generally there is a sense among workers in Germany that taking time off to recuperate when you are ill is important.

So don’t hesitate to take a sick day, should you find yourself suffering from the flu this season.

What to know about taking sick time in Germany

Legally, you need to inform your employer about your absence due to illness before the start of work. This can typically be done however you typically communicate with your boss, via phone call, email or message.

Normally a doctor’s note (Krankschreibung) is only required by the fourth day of absence, but it’s worth double checking this with your employer. In some cases it may be written into a contract that a doctor’s note is required sooner. 

In fact, a 2021 Federal Labour Court decision ruled that a boss can request a sick note even on the first day that you don’t come into work.

READ ALSO: Working in Germany – The 10 rules you need to know if you fall ill

It’s also worth noting that you can actually save your vacation days if you fall ill during a holiday. Your vacation days can be restored if you inform your employer, and hand in a doctor’s note, as would normally be required.

But in Germany it is not a good idea to take a sick day for alternative reasons, as this is considered a justifiable reason to terminate an employee immediately.

In short, do skip work if you have the flu – just be sure to tell your boss and collect a doctor’s note when necessary. 

Oh, and don’t forget to generously air out (Lüften) your house or flat and drink lots of herbal tea.

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OPINION AND ANALYSIS

OPINION: Why it’s becoming harder to get a doctor’s appointment in Germany

Germany's health service is known as one of the best in the world but securing a timely appointment with a doctor is getting harder. A creaking system and the culture around excessive doctor visits are part of the problem, argues Brian Melican.

OPINION: Why it's becoming harder to get a doctor's appointment in Germany

Germans have always been known for being health-conscious – some would even say hypochondriacs. That has its down-sides (see Covid…), but also some notable advantages. One is the ability to go to any doctor’s practice and request treatment, skipping general practitioners, referrals, and all of the attendant bother.

As a result, in any well-to-do area of a major German city, you’ll have a bewildering array of medical practitioners within walking distance, from general physicians (Allgemeinmedizin) and orthopaedic practices (Orthopädie) to ones that will have you Googling (HNO stands for Hals-Nase-Ohren – ears, nose, and throat – by the way. You’re welcome.)

The strength of this patient-choice system is that it allows people to manage their own care. So if one doctor can’t see you, you go and find another. And if you’ve moved towns or fall ill away from home, you can still access care. In theory, this spreads demand and keeps people with non-urgent complaints out of casualty wards. Yet in practice, the system is now creaking audibly. 

In recent months, I’ve tried to get appointments for several routine procedures with doctors’ offices I have been visiting for years – and the earliest I could get anything was, to my surprise, now several months off. Both dentists and dermatologists are currently, it would seem, planning their schedules for September and October. And when a rather unpleasant case of shoulder pain struck earlier this year (fittingly, just ahead of my 39th birthday…), the earliest appointment I could get at any of the three(!) local orthopaedic practices was at least a month off.

This isn’t just me getting unlucky here. In a recent representative survey, only 25 percent of respondents reported having no trouble getting a doctor’s appointment. The rest are having to wait anything between two weeks and two months – and I’m clearly now one of the 15 percent who report even longer delays. 

I’m not alone in thinking – knowing – that it didn’t used to be this way. So what has gone wrong? 

READ ALSO: Seven things to know about visiting a doctor in Germany

Structural changes in medical practice: fewer doctors working fewer hours

First off, there are changes afoot among Germany’s niedergelassene Ärzte – literally ‘settled doctors’ with surgeries, called so in order to distinguish them from hospital medics. For one, these doctors are getting old and retiring – just like the population they serve (or rather: have served). And as younger cohorts are less numerous, physicians looking to pass on their practices are having difficulty finding takers – especially in disadvantaged urban areas or out in the sticks.

A patient undergoes a consultation with his doctor.

A patient undergoes a consultation with his doctor. Photo: picture alliance/dpa/AbbVie Deutschland GmbH & Co. KG | AbbVie Deutschland GmbH & Co. KG

Even where there is no shortage of potential successors, ever fewer of them actually want to set up in business for themselves. For most young medics’ taste, there’s too much paperwork, too much commercial risk, and far too much work involved in running their own surgery. Instead, they prefer to merge with others or sell on to management companies who will, in turn, employ them (often part-time, with no annoying evenings or weekends on call). 

The results of all of this are as follows. Within the space of just one year, between 2022 and 2023, the number of surgeries fell by 1,987 – a drop of over two percent. Meanwhile, in 2023, for the first time ever, more than one third of Germany’s 150,000 non-hospital doctors were employees, not self-employed. That’s twice the number in 2013. Moreover, over the same period, the number of medics opting to go part-time has gone up by 235 percent to 60,000. This means that, if your local surgeries haven’t closed, the likelihood is that the doctors there are now working fewer hours – and so there are fewer appointments left to go round.

READ ALSO: Do doctors in Germany have too little time for their patients?

This would be bad news for any society, but it hits particularly hard in Germany. As a rapidly-ageing society with a relatively unhealthy population (high rates of smoking and obesity), our demand for medical services – often for complex chronic illnesses – is rising just as provision is declining.

Cultural differences in consulting doctors

Another problem is that Germans are accustomed to a historically high number of available doctors – and as serial worriers (and passionate sick-note seekers) make excessive use of them. Your average German racks up almost 10 consultations a year – not including visits to the dentists! The OECD average is closer to six. And the stoic Swedes, strong silent types that they are, go the doctor’s just 2.3 times a year.

Even if I wanted (or needed) to, I simply couldn’t to get to the quack’s almost once a month: I don’t have the time and they don’t have the appointments. But in conversation, I notice that others clearly do manage to find both. Increasingly, I’m wondering how many of them, unlike me, have private health insurance. 

This brings us to the third major issue facing non-hospital care in Germany. When the figures in the representative survey I quoted above are broken down, it transpires that almost 60 percent of people who are insured in the state system (gesetzlich versichert) are now waiting longer than two weeks for an appointment; among those who are privately insured (privat versichert), that figure is only 37 percent.

Doctors ‘keen on private patients’ 

Doctors are keen on private patients because their insurers pay more for the same procedures and will also cover all sorts of supplementary stuff – from the clinically-proven through to the just plain wacky. As such, practices reserve as many appointments as possible for private patients and try to keep the rest of us at bay.

Given that around four in five people in Germany are in the state system, however, this leaves the majority of patients competing for the minority of slots. If you want to see how the other fifth live, try “accidentally” clicking privat on surgeries’ online booking tools: you will now see a range of appointments available within days while the rest of us are being fobbed off for weeks or even months.

Not only is this, as my grandmother used to say, enough to make you want to join the Communist Party – it’s wildly inefficient. By restricting the hoi-polloi to slots often months off, doctors are creating their own appointment-management problems: sometimes, the complaint in question will have disappeared by the time the consultation rolls around; more often, it will have actually been dealt with – not infrequently by the same physician – if the patient presents as an acute case earlier.

As such, slots weeks away are booked, only to be cancelled later by conscientious patients (and left blocked by others), while those same patients crowd into waiting rooms begging to be seen urgently at an open surgery. (That’s how I got my shoulder looked at.)

A German health insurance card.

A German health insurance card. Photo: picture alliance/dpa | Jens Kalaene

The cynic in me says that, in the long run, this might not be such a bad thing. If the increasing scarcity of doctor’s appointments gets Germans thinking about whether they really, really need to be seen for yet another case of the common cold (“No, Christian, it isn’t pneumonia this time, either!”) or various nebulous self-diagnosed ills (Kreislaufbeschwerden (circulatory problems) is the day-off-work-one I love to hate), maybe it’s not a bad thing.

Swedes don’t die unnecessarily because they avoid the doctor’s: in fact, they live a good year longer than us on average. The German in me, though, says: “My shoulder hurts. Maybe I’ve got early-onset arthritis. I should probably go and get it checked out…” And even though I don’t go too often, I’ve got used to being able to see a specialist when I need one. It’s a shame that this is becoming markedly more difficult.

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