Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Apparently I'm not the only one who struggles with social awkwardness at the chemist. A friend of mine recently had surgery to remove some skin cancers. After the doctor was done torturing and dissecting parts of his body he was given a prescription and told to toddle off down the chemist for some sort of unguent to aid the healing process. So off to chemist number one he goes.

Chemist number one doesn't have the specific balm although they might be able to get it in by Monday. Thanks but no thanks. I need this particular medical salve urgently he replies.

Chemist number two has the requisite tincture and at a cheaper price. This is good my friend says because I need to use quite a lot of it. Do you indeed says Chemist#2.

Home again and slather the stinking emollient over the gaping holes in his skin where once moles stood proudly. The medicated liniment comes portioned in tiny sachets and the first one is only half used. What to do. This embrocation is quite expensive and he does not want to waste any. I shall call my mother he says as mothers usually have the good oil on these topics. Read me the instructions says my friends mother to my friend. OK he says this cream is used to treat genital and anal warts mum I will call you back later.

My friend now rings Chemist No.2 and asks his advice on the ointment he bought earlier. Chemist numero duo explains that he can wrap the packet in glad wrap and keep it in the fridge until he is ready to apply it again. My friend goes to great lengths to ask why he was prescribed it oh yes says the chemist I have had quite a few people prescribed this for skin cancers. Purely so that the chemist does not think my friend has genital or anal warts otherwise there is no way he could go back and face the chemist again.

This is true.

3 Comments:

At 11:50 am, Blogger Grinder said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

 
At 11:53 am, Blogger Grinder said...

Pharmacy assistants and Librarians have a lot to answer for.
Some incidents that flood back my memory:
-a customer almost in tears after one lass announced for all to hear that her vaginal cream was ready.
-The contempt and surprise when a parent has to excuse themselves from the personal inquisition and run off with a toddler holding his pants needing to go poo 30 seconds ago.
-The vain double checking of a purchase by heavily pregnant woman and stating 'You really shouldn't take this' without the slightest thought it might be for someone else.

 
At 4:24 pm, Blogger Chris said...

I know I'm not the only one out there.

Just the other day I went in to buy some panadol. Ordinary panadol. The chemist asked "who is it for?"
"Me," I answered.
"OK, just take it to the front counter, blah blah blah."

This puzzles me. If I came in for seventy eight boxes of Sudafed, or some product with the label 'may cause birth defects,' sure, I should be warned about that. But Panadol? What answer would have been unacceptable?

"No, it's for an illegal immigrant."

"Yes, and the rest of my coven and my dark lord and master, Satan Himself."

"No, it's for a horrible gelatinous blob."

"No, it's for a vampire who drank one too many schooners of human blood last night."

As it happens I have a dodgy liver which means I have to be careful with paracetamol. Nope, take all the panadol you want - just make sure it's for yourself.

Puzzling.

 

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