A Pharmacist Sets Me Straight

During the working week, I’m spending time in one of Sydney’s smallest suburbs. It is so small it doesn’t have a bank or a teller machine. Locals rely on a 7-11 where you are stung $2.50 for every cash withdrawal.

This suburb doesn’t have a general store and even shares a postcode. Yet, there are two pharmacies and I was outside one of them last Monday morning waiting for it to open. It was 10 minutes past the advertised opening time as I waited with a fellow who turned out to be a pharmacist there to do relief work. He explained, the head pharmacist needed to kick-start this operation had been delayed in traffic.

So my new friend and I filled in the time discussing our Covid-19 experiences. He advised that this pharmacy had been so busy that management needed to put someone on just to answer the phone.

I shared that I was not vaccinated and my family had relied on Ivermectin to pass safely through the Covid crisis to this point. It was then that the discussion took an uncertain turn. This is as faithful a record of our discussion as my memory allows.

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