Oh Mr Pharmacist I Can Plead Give Me Some Of That Powder I Need

I am the greatest self-medicator of all time. Possibly.

I have probably been to the doctor three times in the last fifteen years (first time when I was 16 and one of the teachers thought I was suicidal, that’s a story I’ll tell another time*; the second time when I fell over and sprained my elbow and the third time when I got a chest infection) but I do like pharmacies, as I’ve previously mentioned. I’m not one of those people who won’t have drugs because they build up in your body and then the germs become super strong and you have to go around licking kitchen floors to lower your immune system sufficiently for medicine to work again. No way.

Pharmacies have a certain “vibe” about them. My previous favourite vibey place was those international phone places, but they’ve all turned into internet cafes now. Then there’s second-hand book stores where you are glared at by a middle-aged women for recklessly thumbing through a first edition of Breakfast of Champions, for example. They smell nice, though.

A good example of this love I have for self-medicating is when I ran out of Lemsip when I had a cold, and made my own by stirring honey into boiling water, squirting in some lemon juice and grinding up some ibuprofen in a pestle and mortar and chucking that in as well. It tastes so much better when you make it yourself.

It doesn’t have to be “proper” medication though, I’ve had funny looks swigging back the cough syrup on the tube for one, I also have a range of food and drink and other remedies: for example sore throats usually mean whipping out the blackcurrant schnapps, toothache means a packet of kreteks, liquorice sweets for coughs, caffeine tablets to perk me up, Vaseline for my chapped lips,  condensed mushroom soup for cold and so on and so forth.

Getting drunk isn’t usually recommended as self-medication, although it can work as a useful distraction. But if you must, hangovers can usually be cured by copious amount of chocolate, something caffeinated (not coffee as that rots the stomach and that’s the last thing you need in that condition) and gallons of water. My brother swears by beans on toast, which certainly gives you the sugar rush, but is far too sensible to be having for breakfast.

Mmmm… beans

* It is less interesting then you think but it does involve irritating teenage lust, a fire and a tin whistle.