Let me just go ahead and say this: my dad is out here doing the absolute most—and none of it is right. This man has a cold. A regular, seasonal, slightly annoying but fully treatable cold. A little congestion, maybe a cough. The kind of thing a warm bowl of soup and some Theraflu could handle in 48 hours flat.
But instead of doing what any reasonable person might do when under the weather—resting, hydrating, and taking actual cold medicine—my father has decided to… treat his cold like a plumbing emergency.
I walk in and this man is popping blood pressure pills, chugging Miralax, and casually talking about taking castor oil like it's 1923 and he’s about to get leeches applied next. I said, “Dad, take some Theraflu.” You know what he told me?
“I already took a Tylenol.”
Sir.
What does that even mean? A Tylenol? For a cold? That’s like using breath mints to fix a cavity. You are not addressing the actual issue, and now your body is in full rebellion mode. He's been regurgitating—yes, regurgitating—because his insides are doing somersaults trying to figure out why the system is being flushed out for no reason. It’s like he told his body, “Hey, I’ve got a cold… so let’s evacuate everything from the lower half of the digestive tract immediately.”
And just when you think it couldn’t get worse—this man has not eaten in TWO DAYS.
Two. Full. Days. No food. Not even a cracker. Meanwhile, he's out here popping laxatives like he's prepping for a colonoscopy and wondering why he feels like death warmed over.
Of course you're weak! Of course you're dizzy! Your stomach is empty, your body is dry, and you're out here taking castor oil like you're in a 1930s boarding school. I tried to be patient. I really did. I tried to calmly suggest a box of Theraflu or even some good ol’ fashioned Robitussin. But no. Instead, he’s over here waging a full-on gastrointestinal war on himself while running on fumes.
And don’t get me started on the dramatic flair. The groaning. The sitting sideways on the couch like he’s in the third act of a tragic opera. He’s got the nerve to look at me like I’m the unreasonable one for suggesting he stop assaulting his system with things that have nothing to do with respiratory health.
Let me break it down one more time:
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A cold = upper respiratory issue.
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Theraflu, tea, soup, rest = helpful.
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Miralax, castor oil, zero calories in 48 hours = absolutely not helpful.
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Regurgitating because you took a laxative cocktail on an empty stomach = entirely self-inflicted.
It’s wild how many people think they can “out-home-remedy” a basic virus. Look, I’m all for natural healing and traditional remedies where they make sense—but what we’re not gonna do is ignore basic biology and common sense just because your cousin’s neighbor’s dog’s uncle once swore by prune juice for sinus drainage.
Dad, I love you. But next time, please stop trying to fight a head cold with a bottle of colon cleanser and an empty stomach. We are not playing “Oregon Trail,” and dysentery is not a cure.
Final Thought:
If you’re reading this and you think starvation plus laxatives equals wellness—you are not healing, you are haunting yourself. Eat something. Take proper medicine. And if you’re unsure what to take for a cold? Ask someone who doesn’t confuse cold symptoms with a plumbing backup.
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