There was a time when zinc fought the viruses that cause the common cold. He clung to the receptors of the virus, and he rushed about like a blind Cyclops, not noticing his victims.
And zinc also knew how to scald the trigeminal nerve in the nose so that it was cut out and slept all the way. From this immediately became less snot and sneezing.
That is why, in ancient times, colds occurred less often, and if they did, they passed faster. There were many better things then than now.
The duration of the cold that raged at that time under the pressure of excellent zinc decreased by as much as a couple of three days, and even the insidious 95% confidence interval did not dare to fall below one and a half.
Over time, the glory of zinc reached such heights that even the most stubborn heretics bowed their heads before this metal.
Zinc extended its influence not only to the primitive tribes of rhinoviruses, but also to the fierce respiratory (I’m not afraid of this word) syncytial.
On the lands seized from the enemies, zinc left its relatives-governors: lactate, sulfate and acetate. They all bore his name, but differed in their military affairs.
Zinc acetate was especially cruel to respiratory syncytial viruses. His therapeutic index was so low that he cut the heads with both his own and others.
Gradually, stories of zinc atrocities began to reach the most remote corners... something of where he lived. Well, let it be "our head".
And then one day the irreparable happened. Blinded by power, zinc burst into the sacred olfactory temple and slashed at the most important nerve.
And the nerve died. Even the most skillful overseas healers could not bring him back to life.
It is clear that the people immediately rebelled and sent the presumptuous zinc to the shameful work of candy-candy to the dirtiest and most terrible region closer to the stinking plugs in the tonsils. The road to the nose was now closed for him forever.
The legend of zinc is still alive. Separate small gangs of homeopaths are trying to revive the cult of zinc, but the dark eighties are long gone, and the people are no longer so trusting.
