Adventures at the Pharmacy

The first time I ever went to a pharmacy in France, I got yelled at by the cashier. She wanted my social security number, and not only was I not in possession of a social security number, I was also very confused as to why I needed one in order to purchase fingernail clippers. I was so traumatized that it was at least five years before I ever ventured into another French drug store.

This makes life more difficult than you realize. You see, "over the counter" has a literal interpretation here, in that everything is behind the pharmacist's counter and you are first subjected to an analysis of your symptoms. I hate this, namely because, as a professional hypochondriac, I am a connoisseur of all things pharmaceutical; I know what I want and I don't like anyone getting in my way. And, most importantly, my medical vocabulary is sparse and I always end up having to pantomime something.

I have had a nagging something-wrong for, oh, a month or so now. When I was in Paris a couple of weeks back, I cracked and went to the drug store in the train station where I discovered that France has finally-- finally!-- been introduced to the idea of "libre service" medications. I could walk right up to the shelf! Take the product I wanted! Not have to talk to anyone! It was BLISS.

So today, I trucked down to the pharmacy in my neighborhood, strode confidently inside and realized... "libre service" hasn't yet arrived in Le Mans. Horrors. Before I could run back out the door, I got cornered by an overly helpful girl who proceeded to ask me entirely too many questions. I got flustered and told her my eyes itched while pointing to my ears; she asked, I think, if my snot was thick or thin and I got the adjectives confused and told her the wrong one (which I only realized after I left). Then she picked some things out for me and rang them up before asking basic questions like, "Do you have any drug allergies?" God only knows what's in this stuff and also, could I just say, what is the aversion French people have to pills? Everything I ever get from French pharmacies has to be chewed or dissolved. I'd rather keep my taste buds out of the process, thank you.

I've already gagged down my first dose, but I think I'll revert to my old system of acquiring medication: have my mom go to Walgreen's and mail them to me. It's either that or taking a train to Paris every time I need a refill.