Having sung the praises of the French Health System without fail, I finally came across a major boo-boo this week although it might have been the Old Feller’s fault.
As you may have heard, he had an abscess but refused to go to the dentist until his face looked like a cartoon image of a lad with mumps. Having argued that he didn’t want the tooth extracted even though it was loose, our lovely dentist and I ganged up on him. Lying in the chair he was in no position to argue.
So far so good. From there we went next door to the pharmacy to collect his antibiotics and painkillers. Here is where things went wrong. I am French. I have the nationally stereotypical hypochondria which, coupled with my extensive experience of hospital, operations, illnesses and accidents makes me a near-expert on medication. As some of my bonkers-pills disagree with other medicines, including herbal, I have the habit of reading the pamphlet and looking up the product on the internet before touching them.
Toothless Badger with several sutures in his gum shovelled painkillers down his throat, starting to feel ghastly about ten minutes later. Of course he had NOT read the leaflet as that would be similar to reading the instructions before trying to assemble flat-pack furniture. I was horrified to read that these were unsuitable to anyone with a heart condition or diabetes, in which case they could prove fatal. Of course Badger has both!
Horrified, I wondered why the dentist hadn’t asked him and even worse, the pharmacist who doles out his monthly prescription might have noticed. Standing by to phone the SAMU (hospital doctors who scream out to extreme emergencies) I left the old feller to sleep, knowing that he never lies down during the day.
The special meal we had planned for the evening wasn’t eaten. Never mind. He recovered and it was, after all, only our 20th. Perhaps now he’ll start doing his homework before swallowing unknown meds.