لخّصلي

When my father and I stepped into the small, darkened corner pharmacy of our neighborhood, we immediately noticed how quiet it was.He crossed his arms defensively and said with a raised voice and a hostile expression: "Don't tell me what to do! Then he threw the medicine on the counter, walked away and grumbled to himself. This second apothecary looked at us apologetically - her whole demeanor seemed to have softened. She raised her hands in a reassuring gesture, maintained eye contact and gave us a warm smile. She leaned forward slightly to give the impression of attention and held the medicine in front of us, pointing to each section of the label with gentle, slow movements of her hand. As she spoke, she maintained eye contact and nodding slightly to indicate that she was listening. Sometimes she would pause and allow us to catch up. Her voice was warm and calm. She nodded reassuringly and opened her hands as a sign of openness and understanding. From her demeanor, you could tell that a space was opening up where there was a friendly atmosphere. After informing them of the most important points, she turned directly to my father and asked in a gentle tone: "Is there anything else you would like me to explain?" He averted his eyes slightly. My father handed him the recipe and told him politely, "Good evening.

When my father and I stepped into the small, darkened corner pharmacy of our neighborhood, we immediately noticed how quiet it was. A moment later, we heard footsteps and a man in a white coat hurried in. Without greeting us, he looked directly at us and asked sharply: "Where's your prescription? " He averted his eyes slightly. My father handed him the recipe and told him politely, "Good evening. Can you help us with the instructions on how to take this medicine? " The pharmacist sighed loudly and grabbed the paper. He hurriedly picked up the medicine, slammed it down on the counter without even looking at us and grumbled, "Everything you need is in the instructions. You don't need me to tell you how to take it." His voice sounded dismissive, he barely looked in our direction and his posture was stiff and unattractive. My father replied, still trying to be patient: "I just want to make sure we understand everything properly. Just as one of the pharmacists was about to answer, another entered the room. I could feel the tension in a second. She looked worried as she surveyed the scene. "You really need to explain to them how to use it," she said in a gentle but firm tone. At first, the pharmacist's face darkened with irritation. He crossed his arms defensively and said with a raised voice and a hostile expression: "Don't tell me what to do! Then he threw the medicine on the counter, walked away and grumbled to himself. This second apothecary looked at us apologetically - her whole demeanor seemed to have softened. She raised her hands in a reassuring gesture, maintained eye contact and gave us a warm smile. "I am so sorry about that," she said in a gentle, compassionate tone. "Let us go through everything together to make you feel comfortable." She leaned forward slightly to give the impression of attention and held the medicine in front of us, pointing to each section of the label with gentle, slow movements of her hand. As she spoke, she maintained eye contact and nodding slightly to indicate that she was listening. Sometimes she would pause and allow us to catch up. Her voice was warm and calm. She nodded reassuringly and opened her hands as a sign of openness and understanding. From her demeanor, you could tell that a space was opening up where there was a friendly atmosphere.
After informing them of the most important points, she turned directly to my father and asked in a gentle tone: "Is there anything else you would like me to explain? She smiled as she spoke, her face open and gentle. She leaned forward slightly and listened attentively to my father's answers, nodding in agreement as if to show that she had understood.