The Pharmacy Story

The frozen shoulder pain had been manageable — or so Shehnaz had convinced herself. But by the time they reached Istanbul airport during their layover on the return journey, it had gotten worse. Much worse. The dull ache that had been her constant companion sharpened into something unbearable. Every movement of her arm sent jolts through her shoulder. Sitting still didn't help. Shifting positions didn't help. The pain seemed determined to remind her of its presence with every breath.

That's when Saji reached into her bag and pulled out the Prednisolone she had picked up in Madinah.

Shehnaz didn't hesitate. She popped it into her mouth — no water, just urgency. The bitter, sour taste spread across her tongue immediately, making her wince. But she swallowed it anyway, hoping and praying it would work. Slowly, mercifully, it did.

The medication itself had its own story — one that had unfolded on their final night in Madinah, during the last-minute shopping expedition. They had found a pharmacy tucked among the shops and walked in with a mission. Saji asked for Prednisolone 25mg. The pharmacist was helpful, retrieving it without hesitation.

Then Soni chimed in. She wanted to buy fish oil and vitamins — halal medications were easier to find here than back home, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to stock up. The pharmacist nodded and began pulling items off the shelf, mentioning casually that he had a buy-one-get-one-free offer on certain supplements.

It seemed very expensive. The women exchanged glances — silently calculating, weighing options. After a brief huddle, they decided to buy the fish oil but skip the vitamins.

As the pharmacist packed their purchase, he suddenly brightened. He leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile.

Ah. There it was. The salesman had emerged. The women knew exactly what was happening — they'd seen this script before in malls, in beauty stores, everywhere. They exchanged the briefest of glances. Then Saji, never one to miss a beat, smiled and replied.

The pharmacist paused. Then he burst into laughter, shaking his head with a wide grin.

That same Prednisolone — the one they had debated over, the one Saji had thought to buy — became a lifeline at Istanbul airport. Shehnaz felt the pain begin to ease, the sharp edges softening into something tolerable. She could move her arm again without wincing. She could breathe without bracing herself.