Na Dru Co products 1910 catalogue.
Colds, flu, la grippe and such are a huge theme of Flo in the City. It’s an obsession with the Nicholsons. And probably for good reason. The doctor came to your house in those days and prescribed some snake oil or opiate-laced placebo, or better wine or sherry… what a treat for temperance types!
He charged a fair bit, but he didn’t always get paid. I know because Norman Nicholson worked as a collector for a Richmond doctor at one time. I have his notes.
Well, my husband has a cold – and since he was a smoker in his youth, colds go to his chest. Not a big deal in 2010, right?
(We went to a dinner party on Saturday night and he sat beside a guest who was very sick, but who had come out of allegiance to the host and he was run down from working a long stretch of days and so he succumbed.)
Anyway, my husband called in sick this morning, for the third day. His dilemma, he needs a doctor’s note (just like in school) or he doesn’t get paid.
This never was a problem in prior years, but now it can take a week to get a doctor’s appointment at our clinic, and by that time, you are usually much better or cured (hopefully).
This is likely a stipulation of the company that insures “sick days” to prevent abuse.
We’ve had the same doctor for 25 years, but that’s not any help.
It becomes a Catch-22.
“Go to the CLSC, ” his workplace says. But you can wait hours and hours at a public walk-in clinic, surrounded by deathly ill people, all for a chest-cold, where rest and lots of water is warranted.
So, you might as well go into work, and if you get sicker you just come home and stay home for another two days. No need for a note.
Except you’ll make some of your co-workers sick, just as the unwitting dinner guess made my husband sick.
It all makes no sense.
No wonder some people in Quebec are actually bribing doctors to get to the front of the line.
