One thing led to another, and I ended up with a persistent little bloke who insisted on offering me homoeopathic treatment. It got to the point where I could either humour him or tell him to fuck off. He seemed too well meaning to warrant the latter and I let my curiosity outstrip my scepticism for a brief moment so I relented.
He told me that, firstly, he had to work out which treatment that I needed and he gave me a little bottle to hold in each hand. He told me to hold them tightly and then tried to prise each of them out of my hands. He eventually succeeded with my right hand (I think) and declared that my body was holding on to the other one more strongly and that was, therefore, the correct medicine for me.
It didn't work, obviously, but then it didn't even benefit from any placebo effect.