Just like doctors, pharmacists don’t always have all the answers, writes Fintan Moore
A lot of years ago I was a member of a gym for a while. Gyms have never been my favourite place to exercise, but it was at a time when I was busy with work and didn’t have much time for anything else. This particular gym had a sauna, which was a nice way to finish off a workout, and one evening I ended up in a conversation with an older GP who was complaining about the way his job had changed over his years in practice. He said that his working day was now spent sending people for tests that they almost certainly didn’t need, but he was covering his backside for fear of missing something that would result in him getting sued. This kind of defensive medicine is common worldwide, but it’s easy to see how it would be disgruntling to have to do. However, I reckon for most GPs there is always a high level of pressure on them to be the ones to diagnose the reason for a patient’s symptoms. Personally, one of the things I like about being a community pharmacist is that we aren’t necessarily expected to have all the answers. If we can identify the cause of a rash or an eye infection or any other problem, then we look good, and the patient is happy. There are also times when I can’t identify what might be causing an issue, but I’ll take the patient’s number and ring them after I do some research. And ultimately, if I don’t have a clue, then I just ruefully shake my head and pass them on to their doctor, whereas I think doctors feel the buck stops with them because the only onward recourse is an inconvenient and expensive referral onwards to hospital or a specialist.
Cost-of-living crisis — what crisis?
There was a time when pharmacists were the automatic whipping dogs whenever any media commentators were looking for examples of professionals or retailers ripping-off the public. Any wannabe journalist could knock out an article in their sleep comparing costs of medicines in Ireland with low-cost countries like Spain, although they never revealed how much lower the salary for a Spanish journalist would have been for writing the same piece for a Madrid newspaper. The other classic pretense at consumer reporting was to ring a bunch of pharmacies to get medication prices, then write dramatically about the differences. If any pharmacist chose not to have their time wasted talking to the random phone-caller, then that refusal was worth a couple of paragraphs too. And, of course, if the prices were too similar, that could be evidence of ‘collusion’, so there wasn’t any way we were winning. So, it’s kind of unusual for the country to be in a genuine cost-of-living crisis and for us not to be front-and-centre in the discussions. There has definitely been a hike in a lot of costs in multiple sectors, but not in ours, or not to the extent visible elsewhere. For instance, I’m a creature of habit and for the last 25 years, my mid-morning break has always been a banana and a raisin scone with a cup of tea. Up to a decade ago, the scone and banana combination cost exactly €1, which was handy because I could drop a coin on the counter and be on my way. Then around 2020, it crept up to €1.20, then it hit €1.60 about a year ago, and recently it reached €2, so it’s back to costing a coin again — just a more expensive one. I suppose I could change snack but I’m happy as I am, so I’ll keep paying. In contrast to this, I can’t think of a single item in my pharmacy that has gone up by a remotely similar percentage. Sun-creams have gone up a lot in recent years, but there are still good-value options to be had. Nurofen and Calpol have gone up too, but not to that extent. And a ‘basket’ of items from the dispensary has never been cheaper. Contraception and HRT are now completely free, and in general, prescription items always trend downwards over time. The impact of any newer expensive medications gets negated by the €80 DPS limit. I don’t want to be glib about costs when there are families struggling, but a worst-case scenario of €80 per month is only €2.50 per day per family, which is very reasonable for most people. Not that I expect to read that in the newspaper any time soon.
Ownership has its privileges
Every year when I go on holiday, I usually bring the proverbial kitchen sink when it comes to medication and other supplies. I’ll chuck in Solpadeine, Ibuprofen, ORS, plasters, Steri-strips, Fucibet, Valaciclovir for cold sores, Zovirax cream, Inadine dressings, Mepore, Difene gel, blister plasters, Gaviscon tabs, Meditape, a course of Fluclox if going exotic, Stugeron if ferrying, and naturally Imodium and Motilium. Touching wood as I type — I rarely need much of any of the above, but I do always wonder how people cope when they don’t own a pharmacy.
