WE in the Arab world have a funny attitude toward medicine aand doctors in general. How else can you explain the way in which medicines are prescribed and bought? An example:
“Oh it’s terrible, the other day she started feeling feverish and I think I saw some red spots on her back. What do you think it could be?” says one coifed, manicured woman to another, sipping her latte at a morning gathering. “Oh, you know, the same thing happened to my son at her age, I’m sure it’s..., just give her some...., she’ll be all right in no time!” is the response she gets. After talking to another woman or two — and getting two more possible diagnoses and treatments — she proceeds to the pharmacy, asks for the medicine and is promptly served by the pharmacist. Or she just sends her driver with the name of the medicine.
On the other hand, we have a friend in England who has been told to buy some flu medicine — just some harmless “Benylin Day & Night.” The friend is subjected to an hour’s investigation, because the medicine cannot be given without a doctor’s prescription.
The difference is striking — yet who is at fault? The woman who takes the advice or the pharmacist who sells medication without a prescription? We have become so used to this last method that few question it and everyone does it. Who needs doctors? Doctors don’t know more than we do, especially mothers who have been through this before with their children and feel more qualified to give out advice to others.
But my pet peeve is opticians — the small unscrupulous ones — and I am writing here from experience. At the age of 16, tired of looking like the eternal geek and having finally convinced Mom that you are ready for a pair of contact lenses, you set out on a trip to the local optician. You soon emerge, laden with contacts, solutions and lens cases. Mind you, the optician says that the lenses are designed to be slept in and you only need to clean them once a week. How convenient — sounds too good to be true! As I discovered 18 months later, it was. One pair got ripped while I was at school in England and I was taken to the local optician. Lo and behold — my eyes had become damaged due to having slept in the lenses — my cornea had become scarred. I had to stop wearing contacts (and go back to looking like a geek) for over a year while my corneas healed.
The optician explained that several years ago, the ill-effects of sleeping in your contact lenses had been discovered and so had been stopped. To my shock and horror though, back home a few years later, I found that some opticians still sell these lenses on the basis that you can sleep in them. I got into a heated argument with one of them but to no avail. In contrast, as I recently found out when I asked my mother to get my contact lens prescription filled in England, you are not allowed to purchase contact lenses there unless you have had your eyes examined in the last six months.
Here is a fair warning to all contact lens wearers and those considering buying some: Never ever sleep in your lenses — if you are looking for convenience, consider the daily disposable lenses. They are much healthier for your eyes. And get a general eye check-up every six months to determine the health of your eyes. I am the first to admit of course that I am no doctor — but just ask a scrupulous one and you will get this same advice. Your eyesight is too precious to gamble with — so take care.