Why I hate licorice

There are certain things we learn in inconvenient ways.

I went to Wiscon last month. I had a lovely time. I went home with a cold, not surprising after spending a few days in close proximity to about a thousand people. I rested and pushed fluids, box of Kleenex at one side, cup of licorice tea at the other. My cold lasted about two weeks; I am a delicate flower with a sluggardly immune system, so it takes me awhile to kick out the last bit of virus.

I drank lots of licorice tea to soothe my mildly sore throat, as recommended by several doctors over many years.

I did not like licorice tea when I first encountered it. I've never liked licorice candy, nor have I cared for the flavors of anise or stevia or fennel, all of which are way too reminiscent of licorice for me. I did not like the bits of bark floating in the tea. I hated the subtly slimy texture of the tea even though I knew that that slimy texture and its throat-coating properties were precisely the reasons doctors recommend licorice tea. I mixed it with peppermint tea to make it tolerable, and I drank it.

One can get used to almost anything with practice. When I married Glenn, I hated Rachmaninoff, but after years of listening to Rachmaninoff, I have to admit that his music is pretty darn good. Fortunately, Glenn has always agreed with me about Mahler, so I am in no danger of developing a taste for Mahler. Licorice, unlike Rachmaninoff and just like Mahler, is revolting.

Then again, what's so bad about it? It's sweet. It blends well with peppermint. It makes the sore throat less sore. It's natural and mild. It comes from plants. It has cute little woody bits floating in it. It doesn't taste that bad. In fact, it's pretty good! I'll have another cup. And another. Let's brew up some more! Let's make all the fluid we're pushing be licorice tea! Today, tomorrow, two weeks of tea!

Gosh, why are my legs swollen up and hard like weird flesh barkless logs? And why does my face look like a pufferfish about to explode? And why do I weigh ten pounds more than I did just two weeks ago?

My Google-fu is mighty, so I have a probable answer pert quick. I may never drink licorice tea again. I'll check with my doctor to make sure there isn't some other cause that the licorice exacerbated.

I was charmed to find the phrases "licorice binge" and "licorice abuse" on the NIH website. Little did I realize that when I became a hardened drug abuser, licorice would be the abused drug.

I'll put my feet up now. Way up.