It’s finally winter at Michigan State University, and, as you may have noticed when you walked to class, it’s hella cold. While the lines at Dublin and Rama seemed worth it at the time, you woke up this morning with a throbbing eardrum, and before you swallowed one time, you knew – you’d come down with a nasty sore throat. Sore throats are more than a nuisance; they’re a pestilence, The State News of sicknesses. While it’s easy enough for you to attend classes with a griping gullet, this malady ensures that you stay in one situation that’s never a good thing on a Friday night – single. This just can’t be a thing, so all you can do is run through your options. What’s the fastest way to cure your throat so you’re in a position to Sparty the night away?
You run yourself down to The Gallery and treat yo’self to a hot tea. It seems only natural that the best way to get rid of whatever sick being is causing you so much pain is to literally sear it right off of your esophagus. Also, Mom said this would work, so clearly this is the best solution. After a few painful swallows, you realize that this method is clearly bullshit, and now you have a burnt tongue to add to your list of annoying ailments.
Gargling Salt Water:
You’re already in the caf, so why not try that other thing Mom always said to do? You grab a handful of cheap salt packets, and, being the devious little chemist you are, dissolve them in a glass of ice-cold water. As you gargle your brilliant solution, the coldness is a great contrast to the roasting Earl Grey you just chugged. However, the salt tastes awful, and by the time you finish whatever it is you think you’re doing, you’ve made absolutely no progress toward fixing that stabbing pain inside your neck.
You might as well try a throat drop or something, because those things are probably medically approved, and the smell is so thick that it could probably smother the pain. That justification makes sense when you don’t think about it. Unfortunately, after sucking on this lozenge for ten minutes, nothing seems to make sense, because your breath smells like Cedar Village and you’re about to just give up on yourself and spend your Friday night watching old Disney movies on Netflix and looking at pictures of cats praying that your throat is better by morning.
Olin Health Center (Gasp!):
Desperate times call for desperate measures, so you thrust out your chest and begin the long, cold walk toward Olin Heath Center. This crack squad of motivated professionals will do whatever is necessary to ensure that you’re in perfect condition after leaving their building. Probably. Hopefully. As you approach this steadfast castle of remedies and miracles, you realize that this endeavor will surely cause more harm than help, and you go back home, submitting to sickness and mentally preparing yourself for the constant refreshing of Twitter that is sure to be in your future.
After your long day of attempting to cure yourself, you’re about to settle down into a chair and succumb to defeat when your closest friends walk in. You can tell by the looks on their faces that these guys clearly know all about fixing people. One is even majoring in nutritional sciences or something, so you have an expert on perfecting the human body in your own residence. Everything is moving so quickly, but suddenly there is a water bottle filled with some sort of clear medicine being handed to you, which you’re instructed to take quickly, like a shot. You quickly oblige, hoping this is the answer to your prayers. To your surprise, it is. The liquid obviously has medical qualities, as one dose of it seems to numb the pain that has followed you throughout the day. Suddenly a familiar taste erupts in your taste buds and you realize that this is truly your saving grace. You stand up and head out the door, but step back in for one moment only to grab the rest of your medicine – that trusty, crushed-up water bottle of Smirnoff.