“Mucinex” comes from the Latin for “I coughed up that?”
Sunday’s head cold spent maybe 24 hours in my head, then apparently lost its lease and had to move down to my chest. It’s taken up a happy residence there.
Last year, when Melissa had this thing, it got so bad that I went to the pharmacy in a state of near-panic. Correction: Near-sleeplessness, with maybe a little panic thrown in that neither of us would ever sleep again. Her coughing got so bad that, even with her in the guest room across the hall, both of us were up all night.
I grabbed the pharmacist by the sleeve and told him, “I need the best expectorant/cough suppressant you can give me over the counter.”
“You need Mucinex.”
It’s an ugly name, sure. It sounds like some piece of extra ugly Soviet military gear. “Sergeant, get your men and take that hill!” “But sir, they have a Mucinex up there!” On the other hand, the stuff works. After she took the stuff, Melissa and I both slept through the night
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