We were 8,000 miles away from home, at a ski resort an hour north-east of Beijing. Suddenly, our two-year old daughter grabbed her stomach and started screaming in pain. Her face turned white within a minute. She was in severe pain and I panicked. People around us started dispensing advice, “Give her some medicated oil!”, “Give her a painkiller!”, “Send her to hospital!” Only the last option made sense to me, given the agony my child was in. But which hospital should I send her to and where was the nearest hospital? We were in a foreign land, barely spoke the language and did not know what do. One constant that rang loud and clear in the torrent of advice dished to us was, “Go to a local hospital, international medical care is extremely costly”. Something in me clicked and I suddenly remembered our Expat Health Insurance Policy. Worried, I could not help but wonder if it provided coverage for our vacation. There was only one way to find out. I dialed the emergency hotline call-collect number stored on my iPhone. My call was answered almost instantly. I was hardly coherent in my panicked state, but…