The Ultimate Nasty

There are few things that I hate in this world. Like truly down to earth will not tolerate and absolutely loathe. And one of those things is medicine. Ew gross. I shudder every time that I think about it.

I hate medicine more than I hate Dolores Umbridge. And that's saying something because she's pure evil.

I don't know why I hate medicine so much. Even the pills are awful. They often get stuck in my throat and cause me to gag them back up and it's just an awful sensation. I refuse to take the little round Ibuprofen pills anymore because it's happened to me too many times in a row.

So two quick stories about my hatred of medicine.

When my family lived in Honduras, we had to take medicine to prevent us from getting malaria. Now the malaria medicine was seriously some of the NASTIEST stuff on the face of the earth. (Pretty much equal to the Ultimate Nasty, which I'll get to later.) So we had to take this disgusting medicine (I feel like it was some sort of powder we had to swallow? I don't know I was four. It was just gross) once a week so that way we wouldn't get malaria and die out in the middle of nowhere. Well one week, I absolutely refused to take it. I mean I flat out wouldn't open my mouth and ran around the room away from my mom. I still remember the resolve I felt that I would never ever take that medicine ever again. And since I was four about to be five, I didn't really understand my mom's reasoning, or maybe I did but just didn't want to accept it. There is one thing I did know: That medicine was never going down my throat again. Man, did I throw a tantrum! And I wouldn't even take the piece of candy that my parents always gave my brother and me after we took the medicine. No way Jose! Not. Happening. So my mom finally decided that it was my dad's turn to deal with me. My dad was pretty much fed up with the super tantrum I was throwing. So much so that he decided to teach me lesson. He then did something that will stay with me forever. I will never forget this. He unwrapped the candy (a Werther's Original) went to the bathroom (dragging me with him), threw the candy in the toilet AND FLUSHED. As I was watching my Werther's Original swirl down into the toilet, he told me that I didn't deserve candy, and that I could either take my medicine willingly, or I could watch the rest of my candies go down the toilet week after week. It was my choice. Boy did that shut me up. I took my medicine every week after that with little to no complaints.

Now there is a medicine that I like to Ultimate Nasty: Off-brand Robitussin. Now Robitussin is no laughing matter. But the off-brand stuff is the most disgusting thing on the face of the earth.

So I have this cough, and it was kinda sorta getting wildly outta control. It doesn't hurt me, and I'm already over every other part of my little cold, but this cough will not die. So the other night, my mom insisted that I take Ultimate Nasty. So I went downstairs with my brother Jacob (for moral support) and grabbed it. We were both talking about how horribly disgusting Robitussin is and Jacob said something that made me laugh so hard because of how truthful it was.

"It doesn't even have any kind of flavor to it! You know, other than death."

Yep, Ultimate Nasty is equivalent to death. That pretty much sums it up.

Now I'm not a total child like I used to be. It used to take my half an hour to muster up the courage to drink my medicine. I would pour it out into its little cup and let it sit there. I had to get used to it, you see. Now I drink it after 5 minutes, tops. And sometimes even after 30 seconds! See, better! But I will always and forever hate hate hate hate hate medicine. Even more than Umbridge.

(Oh, and for more hilarious stories of my freshman year of college, I've been writing some experiences in the apartment blog some of my friends started up, so click here. And yes, this is a shameless promotion of my recently endowed authorship.)