My first go-to when I have the sniffles or a cold is Vicks VapoRub. I have used it all my life or at least as far back as I can remember.  The vapour it emanates, a menthol-minty aroma is soothing and nostalgic all in one. The latter because it reminds me of my mum caring for me when I was little and unwell, and assuring me that Vicks will make me feel better. It is sticky and yucky when applied on the nose, chest and throat especially in always-hot Malaysia. It also stains my clothes and tends to retain Vicks’ distinctive smell even after the cold is long gone. But it does do the trick. Cold begone!

Last week, at the first signs of an itchy throat, I turned to my old faithful Vicks. Last week was also the first time I actually read what was written on the easily identifiable blue box of my favourite cold fighter. My first reaction was some fear, albeit temporary, and the rest of the time I was bemused with the ingredients and instructions on the label. I read it again, and couldn’t help chuckling. I am sure that wasn’t the intended reaction expected by the manufacturer.

I wonder how many people have actually read the words printed on all sides of that blue box and bottle. It offers a lot of information on the formula, product benefits, product actions, cautions and precaution and manufacturer details. I guess I was having a slow day and the Vicks box somehow drew me to it.

The bottle listed eight ingredients under its formula, and the ingredient that startled me most was turpentine, which made up 4.68%, second to camphor, 5.26%. Before I go any further, I didn’t really understand the language on the label. When I tried to add up the percentages of the eight ingredients, it didn’t tally up to 100%.

For me, turpentine was something I associated with paints and varnishes. So having that on the list gave me a small jolt. Why would I want turpentine used to strip paint on my nose or chest? What about camphor?  Back in the day, my mum used to place camphor mothballs in her cupboards to keep the cockroaches away. The formula also had petroleum q.s. 100%.  As petroleum-based ingredients are found in many face, hair and skin care, cosmetics and household products couched in names that I am unfamiliar with and cannot  pronounce, it somehow did not faze me.  And, what does w/w and q.s. mean?  On the net, ww referred to World War, surely not in this instance. I debated that it could either be “with water” or “without water” and for q.s., I ended up on the Quantity Surveyors’ site.

Under Product Action, Caution and Precaution, it said camphor, the major ingredient in Vicks could cause convulsion. I assumed that adults might experience this reaction but was not sure how much I would need to apply before I convulsed.  I wondered only because I normally slather on dollops of the stuff. The worse I felt, the more I slathered on. But I guess the amount that I have used in the past, although seemingly a lot to me, wasn’t quite enough to make me sick.

And, turpentine. On the label, it read turpentine, but it is in fact turpentine oil.  According to wedmd.com, turpentine oil, when inhaled, may help reduce congestion. When used on the skin, turpentine oil may cause warmth and redness that can help relieve pain in the tissue underneath [1].  So, it is a good ingredient, yes?

After mulling over my ‘should I be worried or should I laugh’ reaction, I told myself that surely the turpentine or camphor or petroleum was safe or at least at safe enough levels, otherwise the Ministry of Health would not allow the product to be on the shelves. Furthermore, it is a venerable brand name that my grandmother swore by and mother still swears by. Two generations of faith in the product is pretty much the seal of approval for me.  Like I said earlier, it has worked for me every time. I have two bottles of Vicks on my bedside table and one in my toiletries bag for use during my travels. I am true believer whatever the ingredients.