Wednesday, March 29th, 2006:
Apoteket: Helsingborg's friendly neighbourhood busy-body pharmacy
What I think:
Here in Helsingborg, Sweden's annoyingly monopolised pharmacy, Apoteket, seem to favour the employment of people with a chronic case of Busy-Body Syndrome (B-BS). This is a condition that causes sufferers to cause others to suffer their constant bouts of advice-attacks when selling any kind of medicine, from simple pain relievers to prescription drugs.
A couple of weeks ago, for example, I went to buy some non-prescription Zantac dissolvable tablets for an ulcer I've had for years. It very rarely flares up, and it's never too drastic when it does, and I knew what I needed to treat it. It should have been a simple case of picking a package up from off the shelf, bringing it to the checkout, paying and leaving. But no.
The middle-aged lady (who's job it is to run items past a scanner so that it makes the appropriate "bleep" sound, ask for the amount of money that appears on a little screen, receive payment, and give the correct amount of change, if necessary), felt it was her duty to inform me that I should see a doctor if my symptoms persisted. I had a good look around at the wall behind her, but failed to find her Doctoral Certificate of Medicine hanging anywhere. You might think that she was just trying to be helpful, but I immediately recognised the symptoms of this poor B-BS case.
I'd seen and heard of the manifestations of B-BS on several occasions from most of the staff there before. For a while, my girlfriend had prescriptions for a certain type of medication, and each time she would go to have them filled, she would have to sit at the little booth where they give you the medication, and put up with long lectures about its effects and how it can be addictive. These were drugs especially prescribed to her by a registered physician with a bit more experience than someone whose job it is to hand out little plastic bottles.
And only yesterday, she went to get an iron supplement - a simple and common enough thing, by any accounts. As she couldn't find it on the shelf with the vitamins, she decided to ask one of the guys who was pacing around looking for people to annoy. She was promptly grilled on why she wanted them (erm, why would a woman normally want iron supplements?), was warned of the potential dangers if they were mis-used, and recommended something else. She agreed to also buy the suggested remedy, but asked again if she could please have the iron supplements.
This obvious B-BS victim went to the other shelf with her, picked up the box for her, opened it, and suggested that she read the bit of paper that comes with anything you can buy in tablet-form. Humouring him (poor soul), she dutifully scanned the notice, made the appropriate "Mm-hmm" sounds, and thanked him for his help. This whole time, he kept hold of the box, and she nearly had to pry it from his grasp.
He then told her to wait, and went behind the scenes (to where all the serious drugs are kept), came back with a little brochure, pointed out different passages for her to read (waiting patiently while she did so), and continued his sermon.
When he finally allowed her to leave with the lethal package, he advised her that she should see a doctor anyway, as these particular iron supplements were not very potent, and probably wouldn't do much for her.
B-BS is a worrying and troublesome disorder; it affects not only those who have it, but anyone and everyone who needs to go to Apoteket in Helsingborg. It's time that the Swedish government did something about it. That's what I think.
Here in Helsingborg, Sweden's annoyingly monopolised pharmacy, Apoteket, seem to favour the employment of people with a chronic case of Busy-Body Syndrome (B-BS). This is a condition that causes sufferers to cause others to suffer their constant bouts of advice-attacks when selling any kind of medicine, from simple pain relievers to prescription drugs.
A couple of weeks ago, for example, I went to buy some non-prescription Zantac dissolvable tablets for an ulcer I've had for years. It very rarely flares up, and it's never too drastic when it does, and I knew what I needed to treat it. It should have been a simple case of picking a package up from off the shelf, bringing it to the checkout, paying and leaving. But no.
The middle-aged lady (who's job it is to run items past a scanner so that it makes the appropriate "bleep" sound, ask for the amount of money that appears on a little screen, receive payment, and give the correct amount of change, if necessary), felt it was her duty to inform me that I should see a doctor if my symptoms persisted. I had a good look around at the wall behind her, but failed to find her Doctoral Certificate of Medicine hanging anywhere. You might think that she was just trying to be helpful, but I immediately recognised the symptoms of this poor B-BS case.
I'd seen and heard of the manifestations of B-BS on several occasions from most of the staff there before. For a while, my girlfriend had prescriptions for a certain type of medication, and each time she would go to have them filled, she would have to sit at the little booth where they give you the medication, and put up with long lectures about its effects and how it can be addictive. These were drugs especially prescribed to her by a registered physician with a bit more experience than someone whose job it is to hand out little plastic bottles.
And only yesterday, she went to get an iron supplement - a simple and common enough thing, by any accounts. As she couldn't find it on the shelf with the vitamins, she decided to ask one of the guys who was pacing around looking for people to annoy. She was promptly grilled on why she wanted them (erm, why would a woman normally want iron supplements?), was warned of the potential dangers if they were mis-used, and recommended something else. She agreed to also buy the suggested remedy, but asked again if she could please have the iron supplements.
This obvious B-BS victim went to the other shelf with her, picked up the box for her, opened it, and suggested that she read the bit of paper that comes with anything you can buy in tablet-form. Humouring him (poor soul), she dutifully scanned the notice, made the appropriate "Mm-hmm" sounds, and thanked him for his help. This whole time, he kept hold of the box, and she nearly had to pry it from his grasp.
He then told her to wait, and went behind the scenes (to where all the serious drugs are kept), came back with a little brochure, pointed out different passages for her to read (waiting patiently while she did so), and continued his sermon.
When he finally allowed her to leave with the lethal package, he advised her that she should see a doctor anyway, as these particular iron supplements were not very potent, and probably wouldn't do much for her.
B-BS is a worrying and troublesome disorder; it affects not only those who have it, but anyone and everyone who needs to go to Apoteket in Helsingborg. It's time that the Swedish government did something about it. That's what I think.
posted by Mark Base at 5:37 pm
8 Comments:
I think you should go back to the druggist, stand in the middle of the store and scream, "What can I take to rid me of the drip?" Then...proceed to engage the B-BSer in conversation as if you are completely hard of hearing and sans hearing aid for the day.
Oddly, I am in fact hard of hearing and do indeed use a hearing aid. You spy.
;)
Too much loud rock and roll music? The Dock Ellis occupational hazard.
I still remember the first year I came here and took my box of Codral Cold tablets (over the counter stuff back in Australia) down to Apoteket to see if I could buy something similar here. The look of horror that passed over the woman's face was memorable. She acted as though I'd just shat on her counter! It was only a cold remedy I was after, not a request for the supplies to start up a methamphetamine factory.
So I got the lecture about how you can't cure a cold (I know, I was just wanting relief of the symptoms) and she then gave me the Swedish patented damn foreigner look while she made some sweeping generalisations about what a bunch of pathetic, drug taking hypochondriacs "you Americans are" (wtf? she thought I was American???) and told me to go to Konsum and buy six oranges. Then go home, rest and have an orange every four hours to help my Vitamin C levels.
I kept having to look around for the hidden camera and half expected the Swedish Jeremy Beadle to leap out and have a laugh with me.
Mr pharmacist
Can you help me out today
In your usual lovely way
Oh mr pharmacist I insist
That you give me some of that vitamin c
Mr pharmacist
I'd say these pharmacy interference grunts would be the first against the wall when my revolution comes but it is far more likely they'll be mowing me down in a cross-fire of irritating questions as i storm the castle gates. These people are failed civil servants aren't they? The only members of the medicine comunity i trust are Dr Teeth from the muppet show and Danny the Dealer in Withnail & I. The rest are here just to push me into a state of permanent tourettes.
Well....it's simply another piece of definitive evidence that Sweden is a controlling, police state culture. Apoteket/Systembolaget/Personnummer....it's all part of the same system of control.
Andrew xxx
Police state?? HAhahhaha.. there isn´t enough cops to handle the crime as it is today!! police sate?!? you´r joking right?
I think Andrew's point is that with this level of control, large numbers of actual physical cops aren't even needed. You could call it a "Nanny State", as they do in Britain. I see his point.
Post a Comment
<< Home