My new friends from the tour were very kind and quite accommodating of my misery. The first night, armed with a fist-full of cough drops, Doris went from bunk to bunk looking for the “coughing-culprit”. The second night, I was full of apologies and spent most of the night trying to stifle and muffle my hacking.
By the third night, Matt-the-tour-manager… made Steve-the-bus-driver stop at Walgreen’s. Matt was convinced that he knew the cure-all for my ailment. Buckley’s… it’s a Canadian cough mixture created in 1919… back when medicines and elixers were supposed to taste bad. Apparently, they feel no need to improve on this. Matt warned me that it will be the worst taste I will ever taste… but assured me it would be worth it.
Standing at the sink, trying to balance as the bus bumped down the Indiana highway… I held the bottle of Buckley’s in one hand and a large teaspoon in the other… mentally preparing for the impending moment of truth. Huddled around me were Matt, Jacob and Josh… vexing me… “do it! do it!” Even Steve was yelling from the driver’s seat, “Did she take it? Did she do it?” Sadists.
Gathering my courage, I poured the milky mixture into the spoon… took a deep breath… and then gulped it down. “Holy Mother Of God!!!” I convulsed. A tremor shook my body from head-to-toe. I think I cussed. It was like swallowing a large spoonful of Vick’s Vapor Rub with a battery fluid chaser. There was a burning and freezing… and a taste of what I am sure is the flavor of pure evil.
Sure enough though, within about 5 minutes my headache and congestion were both gone. I think they left in disgust. I coughed very little that night. Okay… I’m a believer.
So if you’ve got a cough that’s lingering this winter… pick up a bottle of the nasty stuff. It doesn’t take much. And you can always use the leftover for party dares.