Being Sick in Spain, Part II: Where I Think I May Have Been Wrong About The Whole Pharmacy Thing

Last year, I wrote this post about how I hated the pharmacy system here in Spain. That I hated having to ask the pharmacist for the simplest of things, and how I liked browsing for medicines at my own convenince. 

I may have to backtrack a little on that. 

Maybe it´s because my Spanish has gotten a lot better since then. Maybe it´s because I just don´t care anymore. Who knows?

On Saturday, I developed a stye in my eye- un orzuelo. It was a bad one. My eye was blown up the size of a plum. It was all watery and gunky. It was all my students could look at. My teachers kept talking about it to everyone they saw in the hallways. I avoided leaving the house as much as I could.

I knew I couldn´t keep living like that. I knew I had to do something, and that something was go to the pharmacy. 

I went, told them, "Tengo un orzuelo." Didn´t have to do a thing, the pharmacist brought me some cream, told me how to use it, and I´m on my way to looking human again. 

However, it made me think: Why was I avoiding the pharmacy? I didn´t have to search for the right treatment, or read countless boxes, deliberating over which was right for me. I just left it up to the expertise of the pharmacist. And it was wonderful. 

I may have judged you too quickly, pharmacy, and for that, I am sorry. 

I have not included any photos in this post, the reason being that I want you to still be able to eat your lunch today.

Originally Published 11.16.11