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October 2009 
The Magic of Bibaporu
Posted on Oct 11th, 2009
by 
drechanteuse
drechanteuse
It was one of the running jokes in the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding that the Greek Americans used Windex to cure just about everything. Well, for people of Latin decent, the miracle cure is known as Bibaporu. It got this nickname from the countless moms with heavy Spanish accents that just couldn't quite pronounce it the way it was meant to be said (you know the b and the v are just so close in sound en Espanol.)
Why is this interesting to me at all? About two weeks ago, I began to wheeze at night. I would try to sleep, but the wheezing would come on and I would struggle to breathe. I tried everything. I boiled a pot of water and stood there breathing in the steam with an oversized t-shirt covering my head so the steam wouldn't escape. I tried chamomile tea and green tea. I tried allergy medicine, though I can't touch Benadryl because 1 tablet puts me to sleep for three days. I tried my asthma inhaler over and over and over...and then my nebulizer which was broken and even after much wishing and praying, remained broken.
Unable to get a good night's sleep for almost two weeks, I yanked the plastic tubing aparatus off of my nebulizer and marched (well, drove) to my physician's assistant's office to beg for help. I had no appointment, so I waited until she was between patients, maybe an hour. Finally I got called. She took me into a room and listened as I breathed deeply. "It's allergy," she pronounced as she found the wheezing was not coming from my lungs but from my bronchial tubes.
That was when she said the magic words. Sure, she told me to do everything I had already done, boil a pot of water and breathe in the steam, but she added a step. "Put some Vicks Vaporub in the water."
"Duh!" I thought to myself. How could I have forgotten? I think maybe I was just trying to step away from tradition and find a more sophisticated (and expensive, and chemical) cure. So I ran (well, drove) to CVS, bought a brand new jar of bibaporu, got back in my car and rubbed it on my neck and under my nose. Instant relief. I could breathe...clearly. Almost heaven.
I began to research, historian that I am, to find out if any other cultures believed that bibaporu was the be-all and end-all of modern medicine. Well, come to find out that a zoo in Great Britian was using it on their meerkats' noses when introducing new members into the existing family. Seems the Vicks masked the foreign smell of the new animals long enough for them to get acquainted. Otherwise, they might kill each other. See, bibaporu saves lives.
So, while scientists are out there spending millions of dollars of research money in order to develop new prescription medication, I am going to replenish my pharmacopia of remedios de la familia: rubbing alcohol for rubs to bring down fevers, Coca-Cola syrup for nausea, sweet oil for ear aches (there is the burning paper in the ear tradition, but that's just too much for me), tobacco for sucking out poison from insect bites, and Absorbine Jr. for any and all types of arthritis pain. And if everything else fails, I'll just have to find a way to properly apply the Vick's Vaporub. It always works.
Why is this interesting to me at all? About two weeks ago, I began to wheeze at night. I would try to sleep, but the wheezing would come on and I would struggle to breathe. I tried everything. I boiled a pot of water and stood there breathing in the steam with an oversized t-shirt covering my head so the steam wouldn't escape. I tried chamomile tea and green tea. I tried allergy medicine, though I can't touch Benadryl because 1 tablet puts me to sleep for three days. I tried my asthma inhaler over and over and over...and then my nebulizer which was broken and even after much wishing and praying, remained broken.
Unable to get a good night's sleep for almost two weeks, I yanked the plastic tubing aparatus off of my nebulizer and marched (well, drove) to my physician's assistant's office to beg for help. I had no appointment, so I waited until she was between patients, maybe an hour. Finally I got called. She took me into a room and listened as I breathed deeply. "It's allergy," she pronounced as she found the wheezing was not coming from my lungs but from my bronchial tubes.
That was when she said the magic words. Sure, she told me to do everything I had already done, boil a pot of water and breathe in the steam, but she added a step. "Put some Vicks Vaporub in the water."
"Duh!" I thought to myself. How could I have forgotten? I think maybe I was just trying to step away from tradition and find a more sophisticated (and expensive, and chemical) cure. So I ran (well, drove) to CVS, bought a brand new jar of bibaporu, got back in my car and rubbed it on my neck and under my nose. Instant relief. I could breathe...clearly. Almost heaven.
I began to research, historian that I am, to find out if any other cultures believed that bibaporu was the be-all and end-all of modern medicine. Well, come to find out that a zoo in Great Britian was using it on their meerkats' noses when introducing new members into the existing family. Seems the Vicks masked the foreign smell of the new animals long enough for them to get acquainted. Otherwise, they might kill each other. See, bibaporu saves lives.
So, while scientists are out there spending millions of dollars of research money in order to develop new prescription medication, I am going to replenish my pharmacopia of remedios de la familia: rubbing alcohol for rubs to bring down fevers, Coca-Cola syrup for nausea, sweet oil for ear aches (there is the burning paper in the ear tradition, but that's just too much for me), tobacco for sucking out poison from insect bites, and Absorbine Jr. for any and all types of arthritis pain. And if everything else fails, I'll just have to find a way to properly apply the Vick's Vaporub. It always works.
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