Fixin' Leaks and Leeks

When a banana mascot slipped on its own peel and fell down the stairs during late-night TV, I did what any normal insomniac would do: I gripped the arms of the couch and laughed like it was happy hour at Applebee’s.

But I couldn’t stop, and then came the hiccuping. The laughter was long gone. It was replaced by a desperate attempt to muffle loud strangling noises in the back of my throat while hoisting a margarita glass and shouting, “This better be a $1 special, Applebee’s!” That is, if I could get the words out.

If only there were home remedies for hiccups! Oh, wait. That’s pretty much all there is for treating hiccups of the regular kind, according to the Cleveland Clinic.

A hiccup is basically a muscle spasm that involves the diaphragm—the one located between the lungs and the stomach. Panicking, which is what I usually do every time, does not help, until it does.

Nate and Alex are able to just stare into space for literally a few seconds and breathe calmly to remedy the situation, but when I try that, I just get more hiccups while Nate shouts, “Remain calm! Remain calm! Just breathe.”

Nope. What works for me is waterboarding, basically. I have to drive myself to complete panic, make myself think I’m drowning, and then gasp for a big breath at the end. To do this, I fill up a big glass of cold, cold water, hold my nose—and my breath—and then drink slowly while counting (screaming) in my head until I can push the hiccups back down to hell where they came from. Typically, I have to do this three times, followed by multiple trips to the bathroom. (That’ll learn those hiccups!)

The Cleveland Clinic, on the other hand, suggests only holding your breath briefly OR drinking a cold glass of water. They don’t suggest combining these things, as I do because, like many things I do in life, the American Medical Association probably doesn’t recommend it.

Here are other things you can do, according to experts at the Cleveland Clinic, who may or may not be found at the local Applebee’s:

• Breathe into a paper bag. (For extra fun, turn it into a crafting activity. Decorate your paper hiccup bag with all kinds of inspirational sayings like, “You’re just a breath away from normal” and “If you can believe it, you can breathe it.”)
• Gargle water—which I’ve never tried, I think, for obvious reasons: one hiccup and thar she blows!
• Tickle the roof of your mouth with a toothbrush or a cotton swab: I’ve not tried this, but it sounds dangerously similar to a doctor’s visit, which could result in more hiccups—for me.
• Eat something spicy, sour, or sweet: I’ve tried all of these things in the past, and it’s like food just feeds the hiccups, makes them angrier, surlier, more stubborn. My hiccups are salty pirate hiccups, tossed about on waves that wreck ships and the wayward esophagus.
• Make your ears pop by squeezing your nose and mouth shut and then blowing out for 10-15 seconds: Call me silly, but I don’t like to make my ears pop on purpose, while hiccuping.
• Focus on something else: If I could do that, I wouldn’t be hiccuping in the first place. Sounds like a catch 22 to me.

While I don’t love the method that works for me, I believe it is preparing me for the unlikely event of a water landing—as the flight attendants like to say. There I’d be, sinking in the sea, my salty pirate hiccups hiccuping away—and after I’d swallowed enough water, I’d remember I had a flotation device all this time, just beneath my seat. Very handy for when the paper bag for breathing has gotten wet.

Your Turn: How do you cure hiccups?