Sudafed? Anyone?

Sudafed? January 29, 2007

My own difficulty transitioning to this life in Portugal came to a head when I acquired a very bad cold. My throat was inflamed, glands swollen…even breathing hurt. The pressure of the congestion affected my ears so intensely that I feared my eardrums would burst. My eyes were were weepy, red and swollen. I was miserable and I needed a good strong decongestant. This proved to be more difficult than I every would have anticipated.

The cold began on Wednesday. On Thursday, I made my surrender and sought drugs. We stopped at a pharmacy in a nearby town on our way to buy wine for the weekend. In Portugal, drugs of any kind can only be purchased at a pharmacy and only with the help of a pharmacist. It isn’t possible to peruse the shelves and look at the boxes to match the medication with the symptoms. And so we gave the pharmacist a rundown of my symptoms. He asked a number of questions….Are you pregnant? Do you have any other symptoms? Are you taking any other medications? Are you nursing? Duarte, my interpreter, answered “yes” to only the question about nursing as Jenna is in her final days of being breastfed. Well, that was the end of our time in that pharmacy. Because I was nursing, the pharmacist would not give me any drug aside from a saline nasal spray for fear of transferring the medication to the baby. Through the thick mucous build up in my ears, Duarte explained to me that I could not have a decongestant. I had to go through another day without medication. What I wouldn’t give for ten minutes in Target!!

On Friday, I couldn’t even make myself get out of bed. The sinus pressure was incredible. I sent Duarte to a different pharmacy with specifics about my symptoms and a promise not to mention anything about nursing or that I even had a baby. Off he went to the pharmacy in Chaves with his father. While he was away, I did my best to sleep – feeling relieved that this time I would get the drugs I needed to help me feel human again. When Duarte arrived he was confident about the results the medications he found would produce. I looked at the unfamiliar white boxes with black lettering and asked him to read to me the specifics about the medications. The first was a small bottle of eardrops. Duarte remembered using these drops as a child and was certain this would do the trick. The insert in the box, said that these drops were for clearing earwax. The second was a package of white lozenges. The purpose of these lozenges was to help relieve a sore throat and clear mucous from the throat. Okay…so now I had earwax cleaner and throat lozenges! I nearly cried. What happened to Sudafed? Nyquil? A decongestant of any sort? Again, I longed for Target. I called my mom and told her to put together a box full of every medication we could possibly need. I knew they wouldn’t arrive in time for this cold – but maybe for the next one.

Another day passed without relief…but my ears were now clear of wax. We traveled to Porto for the weekend with Duarte’s brother Lipe and his wife Susana. I had another sleepless night as I could only breathe from my mouth. My ears and throat were screaming for attention.

On Saturday, while driving to the city park, we stopped at yet another pharmacy. I wasn’t feeling very optimistic but decided it would be worthwhile to give it one more try. We huddled in the car before going in to make a plan. I informed both Lipe and Susana of all of my symptoms. I made it clear that I did not want earwax removal drops, nor lozenges, nor saline nose drops. They were not to mention nursing. I wanted a strong decongestant that wouldn’t make me sleepy for the daytime and a strong decongestant that would make me sleepy for the nighttime. All three of us went in…

Lipe did the talking but Susana was there for backup. Any details that Lipe miscommunicated or forgot, Susana mentioned or corrected. The pharmacist listened carefully. He turned his back to us and pulled off the shelf yet another unfamiliar white box with black lettering. My heart sank. I was sick and I just wanted something I knew. There is much comfort in control and trust and the things you have always counted on. I had none of that in this unfamiliar country. . In the past four weeks, I had endured stares everywhere I went; I hadn’t had a conversation with anyone other than my husband; I was eating unfamiliar foods, watching tv in a language I didn’t understand; living in a totally different culture where I had absolutely no autonomy. I couldn’t even buy the most basic medication that could be found in every grocery store in America. Now I just wanted something that I knew. I stared long and hard at the white box and who knows what was conveyed in my expression but the word Sudafed escaped from my mouth somehow…perhaps the longing just couldn’t suppress itself any longer. Hearing me, the pharmacist perked up. He turned around and pulled an orange box off the shelf. When he put it on the counter I nearly did a back flip. It was Sudafed!!!! Rejoice! I had found my precious Sudafed. I would survive. I could stay in this country after all.