Pharmacists need to be able to fill their shelves before being asked to do the work of doctors - Jayne Dowle

Since the pandemic, we’ve got used to empty shelves in the supermarket. Where once we might have taken a steady supply of bread, dog food or frozen peas for granted, now most of us have accepted that some days supply chain shortages, transport delays or staff absence due to illness has likely led to gaps in everyday items. But in pharmacies?

To my shame, I must admit that I hadn’t realised that the news stories and social media posts about basic medicines running out were quite so poignantly true.

That was until my son’s girlfriend fell ill with severe stomach cramps when staying at our house at the end of January. I went to three major chemists in search of medical advice - she lives in London and isn’t registered with a doctor here in Yorkshire - and the rehydration solution Dioralyte, only to be told that there was none for sale. “We haven’t had that for months,” said one pharmacy assistant. “You’re going to have to make your own with sugar and salt.”

Eventually, I did manage to track down a couple of packets at the Boots chemist in our GP surgery, which I paid for and carried home like precious rubies.

However, I was shocked to realise that here in Great Britain we have quite possibly found ourselves on a par with those under-developed nations that lack basic treatments for common conditions such as diarrhoea; with catastrophic results for public health.

Then last week my 17-year-old daughter developed a severe sore throat and a cough, as is often the way of teenagers who burn the candle at both ends and don’t get enough sleep.

I popped down to our nearest big supermarket and found almost-bare shelves where the cough medicine used to be, and no products suitable for her particular kind of cough.

Again, the pharmacy assistant shocked me: “We’ve had hardly any cough medicine since before Christmas,” she said. “You could make your own with lemon juice, hot water and honey”.

Now I am quite a practical sort and having raised two children I’m quite familiar with improvising in an emergency. But I never expected to be living in the 21st century and having no choice but to resort to healthcare methods that my great-grandmothers would have relied upon.

As I drove home from the supermarket, without any cough medicine, I thought about how the parents of babies and young children must be coping with such shortages.

I’d noticed there was one tube of Bonjela, the magic elixir for teething pain, left on the supermarket shelf.

No wonder pharmacy industry leaders are up in arms this winter. The Association of Independent Multiple Pharmacies (AIMP) are accusing Rishi Sunak’s government of “being in denial” as supply chain problems worsen, with pharmacists across the UK reporting shortages of once-common cold and flu remedies.

Yes, cough mixtures, throat lozenges and some painkillers are amongst the worst-affected medicines, says AIMP chief executive Leyla Hannbeck, who has accused government officials and ministers of a “lack of planning” when they knew only too well that cases of colds, flu and Covid would be especially high this winter.

Also, as Ms Hannbeck points out, the public, especially if they are unable to access GP appointments - with the average wait in most areas now reported to be around two weeks - are taking matters into their own hands: “People are obviously trying very hard to look after themselves… and this had led to a shortage of these products in terms of us not being able to obtain them.”

Which is what brings us to home remedies and anxiety. And if the government and Department of Health and Social Care officials are failing to give pharmacies proactive support or positive news, they are certainly offering no reassurances to the public either.

And still Prime Minister Rishi Sunak seems convinced that, in the light of failing GP provision, putting more onus on pharmacies to help the public stay healthy is the right thing to do. I’d suggest, the government needs to get back to basics. The ability to fill their shelves with actual medicines should most definitely take priority over pharmacists being obliged to act as de facto family doctors.