Sick Season Is Here – Is Your Household Ready?
Earlier this year, Alex and I got sick. The serious kind of sick. Stay-awake-listening-to him-breathing-in-case-he-stops sick. It altered our lives in many ways that sound dramatic but in all honestly aren’t nearly dramatic enough. One is that we will never, ever treat a cold as just a cold again.
It hit us during the sweet spot between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. One moment we felt fine; 30 minutes later we were both lying on the couch bemoaning the timing of our oncoming cold. Day 2 featured your typical symptoms – stuffy nose, light head, general sleepiness, malaise – felt on the worst day of a typical New England winter cold.
(I’m going to overexplain this next part so the gravity of it hits: We were actively dying, and it was fucking scary.)
On Day 3, when we were still sick with no break and were wondering what the actual fuck we caught, the real headache settled in. I say that because, up until this point in my life, I don’t know that I’d had a REAL headache before. I mean, my head has obviously ached before, but this was something else. I could not sleep, watch TV, read, or play on my phone. I couldn’t talk but to moan. Our brains, precious little Jello molds they are, had nothing but pain to think about, and it was maddening. Thankfully, Day 4 saw that symptom end, and anything feels better when you finally get back control of your senses. But it was a short-lived reprieve.
Days 5-9 are fuzzy because we spent them on the couch under blankets, half-watching marathons of Ink Masters and wondering when, if ever, our bodies would begin to function again. The miasma had settled on us so completely that hours and days just fell past with our only thoughts being, “Is this the end? Is this how we die? On the couch watching Dave Navarro judge a shitty tattoo?” It was during this stretch that I stayed awake listening to my husband breathe. We had to call our loved ones for help getting food so we could eat. When I say we were in survival mode, I mean it. We spared not one thought for anything other than, to be very blunt, staying alive. Taking in our next breath, then another one.
On Day 11 – well into January now – I was properly bothered. I had never before missed a solid week of work for a cold, but none of our symptoms had lessened from the level of “the worst we’ve ever felt ever.” The Urgent Care docs tested me and said, “It’s not Covid or the flu, but neither of those will present after more than 7 days, so … You’re SOL, babe. Here’s an inhaler.” I went home, dejected.
On Day 14, I slipped into delirium. I did not care how we got better, only that Someone With a Prescription Pad Was Going to Help Us Today. I went to a different Urgent Care and was given a round of steroids. This did help, clearing my head enough over the next few days for me to realize that I – Alex and I both – had been idiots for two straight weeks: I had medicine in our house. Right on my damn shelves. In fact, I’d bought it for scenarios just like this.
Out came the Spicy Witch Honey, the Fire Cider, and the Garlic Honey. The spice went into our tea – the warmth of the capsaicin scrubbing away at sore throats and finally cracking into our blocked sinuses. The Garlic Honey did what nothing else had done so far: It lowered our fevers. The Fire Cider, purchased from forest witches who had foraged the ingredients themselves – well, the first time it made me immediately vomit, but I felt so much better.
And with ample application of these natural remedies and another full week of rest and recuperation, we were … well, not better, that took many weeks, but good enough that we could take a shower. Go back to work. Go grocery shopping. Be humans again.
Now, I understand: “Amber, you took steroids – of course you got better. How can you credit homemade natural remedies when you very clearly took pharmaceuticals?” You’re right, of course. They were a huge help for me to get past the worst of it, to kickstart my body’s natural functions again – but steroids alone didn’t finish the job. I can’t explain (and if you still think I’m full of it, then why are you reading this?), but the application of the natural ingredients and remedies were what sustained and fed our health.
Yes, I got better with steroids – but we got well again with our remedies. It’s been 10 months, and never again will my family be without them:
· For Fire Cider, I don’t have a recipe – my advice is to find your weirdest, witchiest friend and ask them if they know someone who makes it. We met our forest witches at a craft show – another great option.
· As for the Spicy Witch Honey, well you know where to get that, babe. It works, and I won’t hear a word against it. It also tastes great with chicken nugs.
For the Garlic Honey, here is my recipe. It’s simple and quick to create:
8-10 cloves of garlic – preferably purple garlic
1 lb. of local raw honey
1 pint-sized Mason jar
Directions and Usage:
Crack into the garlic with the side of your knife so that it’s open and juicy. Pull off all the paper, like you’re about to add it to a soup, then put it into a pint-sized Mason jar. Pour the honey on top until the jar is just about full. Put it on your counter in a quiet spot.
This is the part you must not forget: You have to burp the jar every day. Maybe a few times a day at first. You’re fermenting a natural remedy – you need to let off the gasses or the jar will crack. Do this until you don’t have to anymore, which will be about a week. You’ll know when you’re done because you won’t hear the “shhhh” of air escaping when you open it.
Your creation will also get thin, not nearly as thick as honey itself. This is a good thing – it means your fermentation is working. Word to the wise, though: It’s gunna smell like garlic in your house for days. Maybe a week, while it ferments. Every bit of breathable air will stink, and there isn’t any getting around it, so learn to love it.
When you have a fever, scoop out one garlic clove in a spoonful of honey and eat it. It’s taken my fevers away faster than over-the-counter drugs.