I Found It!
As much as I am not through with the three spiral notebooks Mama kept on my childhood, I feel I must pause for the cause to relay some damn good news: I have discovered a cure for the common cold, one which takes 24 hours to implement, and one which avoids the ATC rip-off.
I found it! You are welcome. Think nothing of it. Except for giving this place a bit of a clean-up the other day, I really had nothing better to do. Finding a cure for the common cold, has certainly been something I have been working on for about twenty years, though why they call it the “common” cold is beyond me.
There is nothing “common” about having mucus dripping out of your nostrils, watery eyes, a sneezy disposition and worst of all-loss of your taste buds. Spaghetti with GF Mama’s zesty pasta sauce, would have better appreciated had I been able to experience the taste of it.
No, ever since I taught at the middle school in Laytonville, with my esteemed colleague, Laura, I have taken a pugnacious attitude when it comes to fighting colds: I launch an all-out offensive from the moment I even think I am coming down with one, and I hammer my cure home with a ten-pound sledge hammer, and a conventional tea-kettle.
I used to be like everyone else, stolidly stocking up on as many across-the-counter pharmaceutical concoctions, as my pocketbook would allow. It was clearly a case of some is good-more is better. I once got addicted to a nasal spray for weeks, before someone straightened me out.
That shit should be on the poison-control list.
Clearly, to the point of transparency, across-the-counter medication provides momentary relief, designed to get you to want more, but does nothing to cure your cold. It is a blatant rip-off. If you want to cure your cold, you must flood your body with liquids that will flush the cold right out, and drown it like a rat.
Colds are a fact of life, more so for teachers and social workers, than for reclusive retirees. When I woke up Monday morning from a more rocky four hours of repose than normal, I knew I was in for another stint of research.
I knew this was an ornery variety because SmallBoy had been ravaged a couple of weeks ago, and it takes a lot to bring him down. GF Mama is at the top of her game when any of her three sons get attacked by the elements of life, and she had made sure that we had all the accoutrements de colds on hand.
I set out to drink twenty-one cups of tea Monday morning, one for every hour of my day, sans one. I had arisen at eleven (Sunday night) with the big head and the stuffed-up nose, after tossing and turning for much of the four hours which constituted my night. Figuring I could stagger around until seven Monday night before crashing, that made twenty hours altogether.
I had no particular reason to expect this most unwelcome guest, except that it was going around. And lest you think I harbor ill-will at the bearer of this nuisance, I have only to say I would gladly welcome the one, to have the other. Some things you can’t put too high a price tag on, and the presence of SmallBoy here in any capacity, is always a boon.
With GF Mama at a quilt conference over in Colusa County, I had the place to myself, not that there would have been any issue there, except for what she had to say when I informed her of my goal(s), upon her return, late Monday afternoon.
“You’ve drunk seventeen cups of Gypsy Cold Care Tea so far?” she asked, reaching of the box. “I don’t think you can do that.”
Well, what she meant was that the directions on the box say that one should not exceed six cups in a 24-hour period. Besides, I had been drinking equally from all three kinds of tea, so I had exceeded no limits.
Well, except for the seventeen mugs…
“Why? What happens? Can I O.D. on Gypsy Cold Care Tea?” I inquired brightly. I am always into stretching the boundaries. “Besides, if it gets rid of the cold, it’s worth it.”
Which the tea did. I had no chance of gaining more than a snippet of sleep at any given time, with seventeen cups of tea clamoring for my undivided attention, but that is a given. When I got up at 11:30 Monday night (Tuesday morning), I had broken the back of that cold as effectively as I might have broken open an egg from our now-productive chickens.
Sure, I was still sneezing, dripping and tasteless (for once having something to blame it on), but gone was the bottomless pit of uncertainty. The cold was visibly nailed for a loop, staggering under the onslaught of liquids bearing various barbed herbs, designed to puncture a cold’s vestige of invincibility-every time.
Today is Wednesday morning, and I am cold-free, 48 hours after waking to my most unwelcome guest, with my tastebuds returned to me, intact. My coffee tastes especially flavorful and I have put the tea away until next time.
There is still one Gypsy Cold Care teabag left.