There’s nothing like the first head cold of the season to plunge even the most exuberant among us into the deep throes of despair. This week 75 percent of the people in our household succumbed to a nasty head cold. The other 25 percent of our household was out of town. We still haven’t forgiven HIM for ducking under the firing lines of this nasty germ!

When one is of a scientific sort of mind, it is practically impossible to view much in this life without a matter-of-fact, cause-and-effect, give-me-data-or-give-me-death (which in the case of this cold may just be the case) perspective. Thus after careful analysis, my two girls – they were among the afflicted, you see – determined that we acquired this germ from visiting friends from out-of-state. After careful contemplation of the facts, we determined the exact date of exposure, the many poor choices we made in ignoring self-defense against the enemy (the germ, that is, not our friends) and we devised a strategy for better protecting ourselves in the future. Then we collectively flopped on the couch for three days and held group misery sessions on everything from pulsating eyeballs to throbbing throats.

With lymph nodes swollen to the size of large walnuts, who really wants to eat well? We’ve survived these past few days on Ricola and droppers full of tincture of echinacea in our orange juice. Lounging there on the couch, the Ricola wrappers made fine literature for our floundering minds.

The Swiss company Ricola, as you may know, makes herbal throat lozenges with plants you can grow in your own garden. Menthol, a compound obtained from peppermint oil, other mint oils and sometimes synthetically derived, is the active ingredient. Menthol functions as a local anesthetic, soothing throat irritation. Most throat lozenge manufacturers incorporate the compound in their products for short-term relief of minor sore throat and minor mouth or throat irritation. You might also find it in products that soothe muscle aches and sprains.

If we’d had the ambition and foresight, we thought as we lay there on the couch, we could have made our own lozenges. Many of the plants – albeit presently hit by frost – grow in our garden. Plenty of horehound, hyssop, lemon balm, mallow, peppermint, sage and thyme could have been harvested for medicinal purposes.

Naturally, people have been healing themselves with plants for centuries. Menthol, in fact, was for hundreds of years obtained from the oil of the Japanese mint. Today the compound is used in cosmetics, flavorings and cigarettes (to cool down the heat of the smoke entering the body).

Menthol offers temporary relief while other herbs and spices may have longer-lasting effects. Cinnamon oil made it into the mainstream news recently because of its apparent anti-pathogenic effect. A familiar flavoring in Grandma’s oatmeal cookies, cinnamon comes from the bark of a tree native to Asia. Cinnamon sticks are actually pieces of bark, you know! Ancient Chinese herbal texts mention the spice as early as 2700 B.C.

Egyptians used cinnamon in their embalming mixtures. A prominent 12th century German herbalist recommended the spice as “the universal spice for sinuses,” and to treat colds, flu, cancer and “inner decay and slime.” Heaven only knows what the latter affliction might have referred to. Anyway, modern herbalists still recommend cinnamon for fever, diarrhea and menstrual problems.

Well, these little tidbits about plants certainly are interesting. Thankfully they temporarily diverted my attention, distracting me from the important business of wallowing in self-pity over this miserable cold. Forgive me while I return to the couch, resume my diet of Ricola and orange juice and have a heart-to-heart talk with my immune system.

As soon as my eyeballs stop pulsing, that is!

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, 512 North Ridge Road, Montville 04941 or e-mail dianagc@midcoast.com. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.