A while back, I woke up hungover enough to be in very real danger of vomiting. To make matters much worse, I had an unavoidable errand to run. While shakily waiting in line at the drugstore, chugging water and breathing deeply, I noticed Preggie Pops on a shelf. Preggie Pops are lollipops that promise moms-to-be, per the label, “a natural way to ease morning sickness,” but something about the woman pictured on the box — the wide smile, the way she didn’t appear to mind the sunlight shining on her face, her apparent comfort with standing in an empty field far from her bathroom and bed — made me think that the product could help my situation, too. After all, morning sickness is frequently described as “a hangover without the fun.”
My instinct was correct. I ate the lollipop on the walk home, and by the time I was back under a blanket, my nausea had completely disappeared. Sure, I was still exhausted and headachy and acutely aware of every single one of my flaws, but I had regained the stomach and desire for a cheeseburger, which, once consumed, put me on the road to recovery.
Impressed and grateful, I Googled Preggie Pops to learn why they worked so well, but found that their manufacturer, Three Lollies, seems to want to keep that a mystery. I was able to find out that the formulation contains some essential oils you’d find in an herbalist’s shop: ginger, peppermint, papaya, cinnamon, raspberry, lemon, and green tea.
I also discovered that the company makes Queasy Drops, which are much the same thing, only they’re lozenges marketed to people who aren’t with child — those of us dealing with problems like motion sickness and medication side effects that are similar to morning sickness. Because I prefer to keep as much distance between myself and the idea of pregnancy as possible, I ordered a tin, which I now keep in my nightstand for maximum convenience. Now, when I anticipate a long night, I throw a few Queasy Drops in my bag to distribute to particularly overserved friends (and strangers with whom I might have bonded) when things are winding down. Fairly often, a recipient will text me the next day to marvel at the efficacy of the Queasy Drop. They even taste kind of good, in a waiting room candy jar kind of way.
Associate editor and migraine sufferer Katy Schneider swears by this ice roller for easing pain: “This roller stays cold for hours; it has a handle, so your hand doesn’t freeze holding it to your forehead; and, as a fringe benefit, it claims to revitalize your face and reduce puffiness under your eyes.”
If you’re looking for a soothing balm, try Wild Thera: “Like Vicks VapoRub for your head, except that it smells really good. I am scent-sensitive during migraines, but found this — a mild mix of chamomile, lavender, eucalyptus, and rosemary — inoffensive and actually relaxing. The balm creates a tingly sensation that eases the pain — I used half the tin the first day I got it.”
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