The applicator that came with her new meds was impossible to use, so we devised a system using the one for her pet. It was not straightforward – and involved drinking wine
My mother has new meds, which came with a bunch of attendant meds for their side-effects. Even typing the word “meds” makes it sound like all-singing, all-dancing US pharma that works, rather than what it is: an array of drugs that offers slight amelioration of untreatable conditions. She was sure as hell not capering about texting “meds” to people; she was complaining about the unusably stiff syringe that came with them.
The pharmacist’s advice was to get someone else to help, so there I was, helping. My best advice was to use a different syringe altogether, the one used for her cat’s antibiotics, which we tried. None of the marks down the side made any sense, even if you could read them, which she could not. Dispiritingly, neither could I. It turned out that the cat’s applicator was not measured in millilitres, but by weight of cat; for a short time, her best idea was to work out her weight in cat-kilograms, as though they were like dog years and there was a formula. We abandoned that, not because it did not make sense, but because it required maths at GCSE level.
Zoe Williams is a Guardian columnist