I’ve been sick this week. I actually haven’t been this sick in a long time either. Normally I’ll get a cold, but I can function and generally exist in the world outside of my home. This time I can’t. This time I need to take a nap after walking down the hallway and make soup winds me. On the upside I’ve discovered my love for hot water with lemon and honey in it…chased with codeine infused cough syrup. And as much as I love codeine infused cough syrup, I still woke up last night choking on my snot and had to dry hack it up and spit several mouthfuls of the stuff into a nearby bowl.
Not only that, but my fever had spiked again so I wound up popping a couple of Tylenol while building the courage to stagger out into my kitchen to search for something more helpful than codeine infused cough syrup. But first my dog wanted outside, so after I took care of that, I started digging through the medicine cupboard while struggling to catch my breath…and then I found it. Mana from the Heavens, I found it. Buckley’s. Three bottles of varying fullness of the stuff.
As I debated which one to drink, I made my way into the bathroom because I had to pee real bad. Once I was comfortable seated on the can and doing my business I opened a random bottle of my mana from the Gods and took a shot of it straight from the bottle. Just like dad used to make me do when I was younger. And gee, that initial rush of good feelings in my throat brought back such awesome memories…
Like being 13 and my dad telling my sister and I just to drink it straight from the bottle and the two of us forevermore shooting back Buckley’s like whiskey swillin’ cowboys.
And boy, did we get some weird looks. I can remember being 16 and my sister and I were both sick. I’d gotten whatever it was that we had from her because I always stole her juice. We had just made it to basketball play-offs, so it was a crappy time for us to be sick, but alas we were. The day before our first play-off game mom took us to our family doctor to find out what was wrong with us. I actually didn’t care what was wrong with me, I just wanted to make sure I could play ball and not hack up a lung doing so. Instead of banning us from our game like a normal doctor would have, he made all sorts of recommendations for getting better and then told us we could play if we weren’t running a fever.
When game day arrived, Tiffy and I checked ourselves for any extra heat coming off our bodies and then got ready for our game. The communal deodorant was passed around, my shoes were tied, left then right, and my lucky ring was tied to my drawstring. Tiff and I were sucking on those Cepacol cough drops so that we could breathe and swallow half decently because spitting on a basketball court wouldn’t have been attractive.
Just as warm-ups were coming to an end, I ran over to my bag and pulled out my trusty bottle of Buckley’s. It was worn from a long week in my basketball bag and was coming up near empty. Though it still had a solid six shots left of it. As I gave my sweet syrup a shake, a referee walked up to me. He walked up to me as I was swallowing the first of two mouthfuls and was giving me this horrified look.
“ARE YOU DRINKING?!”
His eyes were bugged out of his head and I nearly choked on my mouthful of cough syrup. His face had gone red and he looked ready to snatch my Buckley’s away from me.
I slowly swallowed whatever syrup I had left in my mouth, because it still hurt to swallow, and handed him my open bottle of supposed booze. The refs eyes narrow in suspicion, but he took the bottle anyway and sniffed it. Then his face pinched up. Eyes winced shut, his mouth was like he was sucking on the sourest of candies and his nose was wrinkled like a pugs.
“HOW ARE YOU DRINKING THAT STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE?!
And I proudly replied, “Like this!” and took the bottle from his hands, took another quick gulp, put the lid back on and tossed my sweet sweet syrup back in my bag before joining my team in our pre-game huddle.
Do you have any good memories of your cough syrup?