Stone SouP

Right before we moved to Canada five years ago, a friend who had lived here told me about Fisherman’s Friend.

Fisherman’s Friend calls itself an “extra strong” throat lozenge for coughs and colds, and it works like magic.

But “extra strong” it is. And it tastes nasty! Until this month, I thought it was the nastiest thing a woman ever swallowed.

Then I discovered Buckley’s.

I’ve struggled with lung problems for years. I had valley fever as a youth, and my lungs have been susceptible to respiratory illness ever since.

But since moving to Canada, I just haven’t been sick. I get colds, but not bronchitis or pneumonia.

Until this month. I suspect Alberta’s brutal winters usually kill off the bacteria that cause certain respiratory illness, and we had a mild winter.

For whatever reason, about three weeks ago, I start coughing and couldn’t stop. I spent the first few days in bed with a fever, and have spent the remaining time coughing and struggling to regain my strength and energy.

Then someone told me about Buckley’s. I’d heard before about this nasty tasting but very effective, quintessentially Canadian, cough syrup, but I wasn’t motivated to actually try it until I got desperate.

O. M. G.

The efficacy of Buckleys is due to several herbal ingredients, none of which (I suspect) was intended for human consumption.

OK, fine. Menthol is ingested all the time and can even be delicious (mojito, anyone?). And we used to ingest camphor regularly — before we knew better.

But tincture of capsicum? Isn’t that just chili pepper in liquid form? Ouch! And … balsam? That’s a perfume! Not to mention … pine needle oil.

Yes, pine needle oil. Pine. Needle. Oil. Exactly what it sounds like.

But I was desperate. Every time I coughed, my poor stomach muscles groaned in pain. So I asked Mars to pick up Buckleys, and I tried it.

The moment I swallowed that first spoonful, he began to laugh. He has said many times since that he should have videotaped it. Apparently I made some impressive contortions with my facial muscles. Apparently I made some rather dramatic gagging sounds. Apparently I said, “Oh, my God” at least three times in a row.

Because … OMG. That is SO BY FAR the most disgusting thing I have ever had in my mouth. O.M.G.

The label said I could take two teaspoons every two to three hours, but there’s no way in hell I could choke down a second one. No flipping way.

But … here’s the miracle … it worked. I went to bed and slept! Slept all night for the time in more than a week.

I have had pneumonia several times. I have coughed so hard that I threw up every meal I ate for weeks. I have coughed so hard that I dislocated a rib. I have coughed so hard I cracked a rib once.

You know the worst thing about coughing so hard that you crack or dislocate a rib? You … don’t … stop … coughing.

I can choke down anything that will prevent that.

So the next morning, I woke up in love with Buckley’s. I bounded out of bed, drank a cup of coffee, and ate a couple of fried eggs. I showered and brushed my teeth. Then, just before I headed off to a friend’s to edit her book, I happily swallowed another spoonful of Buckley’s.

It hit my gag reflex and came right back up. I barely made it to the toilet.

Then, with a horrible tearing, wrenching sound, everything else followed: coffee, eggs, Diet Coke. I hung over the toilet in the master bath, turning my stomach inside out.

“Mom! Mom, are you OK?” The animator came running up from downstairs. Apparently it was louder than I realized. “Are you throwing up?”

I couldn’t answer him. My nostrils were filled with the smell of pine needles, and my throat was busy processing chunks and bile (sorry).

He came far enough into the bedroom to confirm that yep, I was throwing up, and with a sound of utter revulsion, he ran away.

When my stomach was empty, I felt fine. It was like vomiting when you’re pregnant. You’re not sick. You just need to throw up, and then you can cheerfully go on with your day.

As I washed out my mouth, Mars came into the bathroom. He was giggling.

Apparently the wall between the master bathroom and his home office is very thin, much thinner than we knew. And apparently he had been on a conference call while I was streaming Buckley’s into the toilet.

Yeah. Apparently half a dozen directors and executives of his company sat and listened to me vomit — and heard The Animator’s panicked, “Mom! Mom, are you OK?”

Sigh. My health may be better, but my dignity is destroyed forever.

Tags: Buckley's

This entry was posted on June 30, 2016 at 6:35 am and is filed under health. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.