Vicks Repercussions

FROM WHERE I SIT  VICKS REPERCUSSIONS  11/5/13 PAT DEKOK SPILSETH

The weather outside is frightful.  Though the calendar tells me it’s November, chocolate bars still fill bowls near the door where I greeted the visiting witches and goblins mumbling “Trick or Treat”.  I love seeing the little tykes coming to my door with their pumpkins and parents.  But I’m gracious to teenagers who can’t give up the ghost and still want to trick or treat.   After all, it still pains me to remember hearing the grumpy guy who told me “you’re too big!” when I rang his bell in my yearly witches’ costume. 

Snow is expected tonight as temperatures dip.  Docks and boat lifts still dot the lake, and fog coats the air so thickly that I can’t see across Carmen’s Bay.   I feel a cold coming on; aches and pains are creeping into my body, making me feel my advancing age.  Time to swallow the Ibuprofen tablets and apply Vicks under my nose.  I haven’t resorted to hanging a clove of garlic around my neck.  I still enjoy being with friends; I know they’d turn up their noses at the garlic, but my friends do use Vicks and like its odor.

A previous column about the medicinal  ingredients in Vick’s little blue and green bottle had emails flashing on my computer, phone calls and notes from folks.  Many other affectionadios of that little bottle share my affinity for the pungent medication that cures without a doctor visit and costly prescription.  But even Vicks has increased its price.  My movie star cousin Beverly noted that her tiny bottle of the salve cost over $7.00 at Walgreens.  Not only does she use the stinky salve for colds, but she greases her hands with it too.  So many soothing applications are possible.

Fargo reader Barb, who taught in Glenwood back in the late 50’s, has 3 bottles of the magical mix on hand.  Some who heard that my mom Esther actually swallowed a glob of the salve when she had a cold and sore throat exclaimed, “Did she REALLY DO THAT?  That’s disgusting!”  But it worked...

Others wanted to know where to buy a bottle of cod liver oil.  That fishy smelling liquor must be available at health food stores as well as some drug stores.  

Allergies are another menace this season.  Stuffed noses, throbbing sinus, fevers and chills demand a remedy.  Buddy, my Beagle sidekick, suffers from snuffles.  My vet told me to give him the little pink pill others use for allergies.  Covered with a dab of creamy butter on a muffin, he gobbles the muffin and pill in one gulp.  It’s been no trouble for Buddy to take his pill if I simply say the word TREAT.  In a flash Buddy is off to the laundry room, where treats are stored.  The pill hasn’t quieted his snores, but they’re sweet as he snuggles in Grandma’s rocker my office as I type my columns.  

Boxes of Kleenex appear in every room of my house.  Sneezes, coughs, watery eyes and nose blowing seem to pass from Dave to me to Buddy to guests.  The paper tissues are so convenient, but I do miss the soft cotton hankies Mom would wash, iron, and fold into four squares to tuck in my pockets.  They didn’t irritate my nose so I didn’t develop a huge, red nose.  

Handkerchiefs are kinder to a tender nose, ballooned and reddened with repeated blowing and sneezing.  My nose hurts when I reach for a paper tissue, but Mom’s dainty squarers of cotton hankies are perfect.  They’re stored next to my Vick’s bottle in the night stand next to my bed.

Remember when Moms used to tuck their hankies in their apron pockets or the sleeves and tops of their house dresses?  Often that enhanced their bosoms.  Today, the only time I see a lace or linen hanky is at a wedding, sometimes a funeral.  Hankies seem to be comfort signs to nervous brides and sad mourners.

A November storm is approaching from the west.  The lawn furniture is stored; we’ve mulched some leaves and Thanksgiving pumpkins and Pilgrims decorate the house.  The fire in our fireplace is so inviting so I’ll relax in my red leather chair with Buddy and a good mystery.  Let it snow; let it snow; let it snow...  727

Tis the Sneezing Season!

FROM WHERE I SIT  ‘TIS THE SNEEZING SEASON  10/10/13    Pat DeKok Spilseth

 It’s that time of year when major bugs abound, waiting to catch you unawares.  They strike when you’re undernourished, in crowds of contaminated folks and overtired.  Being around kids in a classroom is the worst place to catch the sick bugs.  Then you usually end up flat on your back in bed coughing, sneezing, nauseous, dizzy and totally miserable.   

 I decided to avert such dire consequences.  I got my flu shot in the arm this afternoon.  Some administrators can make the shot painless, but today, it hurt.  I tell myself, the pain is worth not getting the flu...hope, hope.  Get the shot before they run out of the vaccine.  With my maligned immune system, I make it a point to head to the lines at a neighborhood drug store where nurses wait to innoculate patients and fill out the necessary forms.  

It’s cold season too.  I remember Mom’s warnings about flu and cold bugs.  I keep a jar of that trusty green and blue bottle of VICKS petroleum jelly in my night stand.  I swear that it works wonders for sore throats.   Nightly, I take a tiny whiff of the medicinal smell.  NO, I do not swallow a glob of VICKS like Mom did...just a whiff will do.  But if I start sneezing, coughing and feeling run down, I grease my neck and under my nose to clear the sinuses and wrap a wool sock around my neck, fastening it with a safety pin.  I know I don’t look particularily appealing all greased up, but it’s worth it if the Vicks wards off the bugs.  This procedure seems to produce deep heat, warming not only my neck but my entire body with its strong, mentolated magic. Though it stings my eyes, and they begin to water, I know the Vicks is working its powers on my body.  I feel better inhaling the strikingly pungent odor from the tiny blue jar.   It worked for Mom and our family when I was growing up.  Why toss away a good thing?  

Cod liver oil was Mom’s other remedy to ward off colds.  Like clockwork, every morning before I left for school, she poured a teaspoon of that oily, icky medicine for me to swallow.  I had to wash it down with a tiny glass of orange juice.  Nobody I knew could stand the unadulterated taste of cold liver oil sliding down our throats.  Cod liver oil combated colds, but that oily taste couldn’t be stomached without something to camophlauge the fishy taste.

When fall or winter colds struck, Mom insisted I put on my flannel pajamas and rest in bed.  She’d cover me with her percale sheets with the crocheted edges that Grandma Elizabeth had made years ago.  Snugly, she’d tuck me into bed with Dad’s gray, wool, army blanket and one of her patchwork quilts, that the aunts had stitched the past winter.  Those quilts were made of stitched squares of worn Pendleton wool shirts, wool pants, Mom’s house dresses and Aunt Sadie’s wool plaid skirts.  It was cozy; I could feel the love.  

Then came her best prescription, the sugar medicine.  Esther would cut a plump, yellow lemon in half, squeeze and twist in over the protruding knob of the glass juice squeezer.  Pale, yellow, lemon juice would spurt from the thick rind’s innards along with many seeds that had to be strained from the juice.  If I drank the sour, lemon juice straight, without any additives, I’d twist up my face with its strong sour taste.  However, Mom knew that if she warmed heaping spoons of sugar stirred into the sour lemon juice, she could have me sipping the sweet lemonade.  As it swam down my aching throat, hot lemon juice was a sure cure for a sore throat.   Sugar does help the medicine go down.

From storage, I’m pulling out my wool sweaters and warm slacks, winter coats and jackets, scarves and hats and mittens.  I don’t want to be caught short of warm duds when the white flakes start flying.   Recently, Dakota was immobolized with over 40 inches of snow; roads were closed; powerlines pulled down.  Misery accosted the plains!  Get ready; cold weather, flu bugs and fever are coming east.  Prepare for the worst.  725 words