If you're not feeling well, my experience tells me, it's better not to feel well in France.
First off, your doctor will come to your bedside. (The last time a doctor came to our house was when I was a child living in Lewiston Heights, N.Y. [outside Niagara Falls] to treat a classic case of chicken pox.)
For my latest bout of flu, it wasn't necessary to have Pascal (he's also a friend) visit me.
Prepare for a digression (it's important that I tell you this): Pascal gives the best shots of any doctor in the whole-wide-world. He talks to you non-stop, gives your arm a slight pinch and then he walks away. Mission accomplished.
Back on subject: Pascal was not necessary for a run-of-the-mill, banal flu so My-Reason-For-Living-In-France headed to our pharmacie -- in the town where I take my on-the-street photos -- and directly to Christine.
This is what she gave him for me:
1.) Effervescent Doleprane, a paracetamol, 1000mg., three per day. (She then wrote MAX -- as in no more than three -- in capital letters on the box because I have a reputation for thinking in some areas of life more is definitely more. This sentiment does not, contrary to what MRFLIF thinks, apply to medications.)
2.) Probiolog, two per day before meals. Upon reading the notice I discovered to my amazement the little gel capsules have one billion (!) bactéries vivantes (!) -- these live bacteria things are VERY big over here as in Danon yogurts with bifidobacterium lactis for example. And, if I wish, I can continue to take Probiolog every day for the rest of my life. That will require more investigation on my part.
OK, that's it on the med front.
But, Christine didn't stop there. She gave MRFLIF a dinner menu for me.
It consisted of:
1.) Cooked carrots. (Fresh, obviously, we're in France after all.)
3.) Two yogurts.
4.) One banana with the yogurts.
Dee-vine. I highly recommend the meal.
You will be pleased, more than pleased I'm sure, to hear this is the final chapter in the saga.
Footnote: As I was typing I was thinking, "Hmmm, everyone must be so sick and tired of hearing about Teddy and you are all so lovely, I think I should do something fun."
How about a microwavable, lavender scented, soft, cute, comforting Teddy of your very own? I will send you one. Tell me if the idea interests you and I'll draw a name -- or two. Teddy has, I've been told, a large extended family.