Sure, the semester is long and tiring, but lately I’ve been in a lot of pain unrelated to schoolwork. Yes that’s right, Townies feel pain, too.

It’s not severe pain, but the kind of pain that really annoys you. I suppose you’re wondering what’s causing my discomfort. Well, I’ll tell it to you straight: I have the tendonitis in my right arm.

No, it’s not what you think; I’m left handed, so there’s no way I could have gotten this injury from playing tennis.

Truth be told, I’m not quite sure how I came to be in this lowly state. It may very well be a reaction to global warming, or it could be stress or poor evolution. Either way, my arm was not very intelligently designed.

Now, I’m not the type to sit around and enjoy my pain, so I’ve been in search of a cure for my condition for a while now but for the most part they’ve all been only mildly effective.

Ibuprofen seems to work the best and magnets looked promising; since they seem to do a good job holding my to-do list to the refrigerator, I don’t see how they could not cure my ailment. But I think they take time to work their miracles. I guess you could say there are positives and negatives about them (zing!).

After some searching, I remembered Binghamton’s very own cure-all affectionately known as Swamp Root.

The mix was produced during the late 1800s and was quite the popular little tincture. It was produced by a Canadian-born doctor, Andral Kilmer, and touted to cure a number of things from liver and kidney problems to demonic possession! Surely, it could cure my tendonitis.

Despite the fact that it did not claim to cure my particular ailment, I still was very excited to remember this remedy. But that excitement was short lived.

Like anything in this valley, the seemingly innocent Swamp Root had a twisted secret.

Regardless of all it’s promises, Swamp Root wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It probably did have some swamp ingredients in it (though I’m not sure of many swamps in the area), but for the most part it was just a glorified bottle of booze. Which is probably why it didn’t claim to cure alcoholism.

So maybe I shouldn’t rely on home grown cures and focus my attention of real cures, like leeches, or maybe just drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

Dan Lyons, a South Side resident, is a junior English and biology major.