As I mentioned yesterday, I did something stupid this week and caught a cold. Some will diagnose it as a sinus infection; others, an upper respiratory infection; I prefer to call it a cold. People have asked me the past few days if I was going to the doctor and I immediately told them no; unless I'm knocking on death's door, I will not go to the doctor for a cold. That's just the way I was raised. I asked the 'Rents about that tonight, and they said "We took you to the doctor one time when you had a bad cold and that was it. We just doctored you up at home and you were over the cold in a couple of days."
When Mom mentioned "doctored" she meant common sense things that most of us don't do today -- things such as staying home (inside the house, not playing outside with the neighbor kids spreading germs nor going to work spreading germs), sleeping, drinking lots of water and orange juice, and using Musterole, the miracle rub. They haven't sold Musterole in about twenty or thirty years but when I was a kid, it was the medicine to end all colds. The moment I would develop a cold, out would come the little green glass jar of Musterole. Before I went to bed, Mom or Grandma would rub some of the stinky Musterole on my chest, and would cut a square piece out of an old sweatshirt and pin it on the inside of my nightgown or pajamas so the Musterole wouldn't get my sleep clothes all greasy, and when I woke up the next morning the congestion in my chest would be all broken up. Yep, it truly worked that quick.
Today, we have Vick's and other similar salves but none of them work near as good as Musterole. I would have given anything for a jar of it last night or tonight. And no, I'm still not going to the doctor.
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