Don’t get me wrong. Aude is a pharmacist, so I know first-hand that pharmacists in France are highly educated, knowledgeable professionals. I know that the advice that they hand out is top-rate, and that they are genuinely interested in providing a good service to their customers. But they are driving me nuts.
First, you have to accept the premise that no one in France is expected to be responsible enough to look after themselves. From pensions to healthcare, the government assumes that you are too irresponsible to be left in control, so they issue enormous tax bills and take care of all the details for you, the taxpayer. And on one hand, it is incredibly helpful – there really is very little to do after you have received your paycheque each month.
But just like many other examples in France, the French pharmacy system is designed on the basis that customers are, basically, uneducated idiots who would kill themselves if left to their own devices. Never mind that the French take more medicine per capita than any other nation in Europe – they are pill-poppers extraordinaire.
The aisles of my local pharmacy are filled with shampoos and soaps, all of which I am trusted to select on my own. Two full aisles are filled with nothing but diet pills, and these are all considered safe for self-service. But heaven forbid I should need something as strong as a few ibuprofen or paracetamol. For those, I am expected to have a consultation with a pharmacist. And because the pharmacists have a total monopoly on the market, I am expected to pay €7 for a box of pills that would have cost me about €0.70 in the UK. This morning, feeling a little under the weather, I thought I would pop in to buy some vitamin C. No, even that is deemed too dangerous for me to purchase without a pharmaceutical consultation.
In the end, I gave up and bought a glass of orange juice. I’m amazed they allow me to buy something so potent on my own.
