CucosBlog

Having been coughing like a moron for the past week, while marvelling at my body’s ability to eject poison and thereby renew itself (so that I can go out and wreck my lungs all over again…), I have found myself in a position where I can recommend one cough syrup over another.

My reliable friends in the local health food store sold me a mid-price range (£3.15) bottle called Allens Chesty Cough, which sounded just right. It looked like it might knock me out and allow me to get some sleep, judging by some of the ingredients: liquid extract of horehound [sic?] and chloroform were the standouts. But nothing of the kind. I went through the bottle in a couple of days and it didn’t hit the spot at all.

Today I woke up with chest and body heavy with hot poisons and for the fifth day running had a 20 minute session of coughing up what seemed to be freeze-dried mucus, looking at it, flushing it down the loo and getting back into bed. And doing that a few times until I felt a bit better.

After a quick morning gongyo (recitation of the Lotus Sutra), I decided I might have a chest infection, and so I went to the doctor. It was already 10:30 so I’d completely missed the boat. And it was while wandering towards the post office that I popped into the station chemist - one of the eternal stalwarts of this life - and copped a bottle of Buttercup. I’d tried it before, and instinctively remembered it was good gear. Sounds so innocent, doesn’t it. Buttercup. But it’s full of paint thinners or something. Maybe smack.You take a swig and you feel that shit where there’s so much hurtin’. It’s kind. It hits the spot.

So there you have it: Buttercup 5 - Allens 0. A rout.