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Mom’s Cure For Whatever Ails You
By Frank Szivos

No doubt: Moms know everything, and then some. My mom implanted a lot of wisdom in me. One thing, she taught me at an early age was that Vicks rub can cure just about anything that ails you, except for garlic which also has its healing powers to cure high blood pressure, the flu, sinusitis, acne, and wards off vampires.

But Vicks rules. Consider my son approached me recently, limping. He pulled a muscle in gym class and wanted something to ease the pain.

I had the immediate answer: Vicks VapoRub. “Huh?” he answered. “Isn’t Vicks that smelly stuff you put under your nose when you’re sick?” He told him he was right, but few people know that Vicks can cure just about anything, according to mom.

Heh, she experimented on me throughout my childhood, she should know. Researchers conduct experiments on ferrets, iguanas, and fruit bats. No animal testing for mom; she had me. Mom used Vicks that slimy, gooey salve that smells like a boatload of camphor, menthol and eucalyptus.

As a kid, if I complained that I was getting sick, she grabbed the midnight blue jar, whipped off the cap, and smeared a couple of fingers worth under my nose. The vapors penetrated to my brain, even if my nostrils were filled with concrete. My eyelids fluttered like towels in the breeze and my eyes watered as the vapors rose as I fought back the urge to pass out.

Mom told me the inconvenience was only temporary, and I would feel fine in no time. I rubbed at my eyes, claiming that I was going blind. She said I was such an actor and tied a handkerchief around my head to cover my eyes like a prisoner being led before a firing squad.

Maybe she was right. I was a pretty healthy kid, maybe a bit overweight, but that had more to do with the rows of Oreos and milk that I devoured through my childhood. Of course, mom credited Vicks for my robust good health. Who can argue with her?

With the exception of a gall bladder operation in 1967 and a stint put in an artery about 10 years ago, she’s enjoyed excellent health. And at 86, she’s still going strong. Could it be the Vicks? Mom swears it’s good for whatever ails you. The gooey salve with the medicinal odor that could knock you on your back has been around for 103 years. It gained a following during the 1918 flu epidemic and still sits on pharmacy shelves today. Somebody is still buying the stuff besides my mom.

Of course, some researcher took a shot at the salve recently, claiming that it actually can be harmful for infants and small children. I shared this news with mom, who waved it off. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “I used it on you all through childhood, and on your brother, too, - who had more colds then him. Both of you turned out to be healthy. Ahh, these doctors want to throw away everything that’s old. It’s proven to work on people, not mice or turtles.”

Mom also used the stuff faithfully on herself, not just on us kids. When she had a sore throat, she scooped out a dollop of the stuff that looked like an industrial strength lubricant and swallowed it. (Don’t try this unless you consult your psycho professional first). Yuck. She gagged for a moment that let out a deep breath and swore she felt instantly relieved while my brother and I were gagging. We told her to stay away because her breath smelled of Vicks hours later. She waved us away. “What do you kids know,” she said.

Mom also smeared the bottom of feet, claiming it penetrated up from her soles right through her head, curing whatever problem the supposed healing vapors encountered along the way. When she did that, my father insisted she wear socks to bed because he didn’t want to smell that stuff all night. She agreed, offering that the socks captured the vapors and made their powers even stronger. Oh, boy. She also thinks she can predict the future in dreams, but that’s another story.

Recently, mom said her podiatrist claimed that the salve was effective in killing fungus in toenails. Look, don’t shoot me for this, it’s mom’s podiatrist. So mom smeared her toenails in the goop to ward off fungus. I’m glad she didn’t hear this health tip when I was a kid living at home. At times, I wonder why she didn’t just rub us down from head to foot to prevent all ailments. If she did when I was too young to recall, I don’t want to know.

Of course, this column is no endorsement or proof of anything other than I grew up in a household where Vicks was the go-to home remedy. She still keeps the little blue jar on her nightstand so it’s in easy reach if she feels the symptom of a cold coming on. I have a jar tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I handed to my son for his pulled muscle. I said: “Smear it on.. So you smell for a while, it might even work.”

He looked at me as if I were a voodoo chieftain. What does he know. If nothing else, it would make his grandmother happy.

Frank Szivos is a free-lance writer who has snorted his share of Vicks. He can be reached at sziborg@aol.com