Kingsley Amis famously wrote that “he who believes he has a hangover has no hangover”. An unhelpful little maxim, but the kernel is that the conquest of your hangover is a battle of reconciliation and acknowledgement. Coming to terms.
Whilst I would never claim that my two cents can compare to that of Amis – possibly the most revered and erudite scholar of inebriation in British history – over the last 5 or so years I’ve become quite an expert on the subject myself. So here’s my guide to the alcoholic arrears that most of us have incurred and paid: the different flavours, how to identify them, and some suggestions for plausible counterattacks.
The War Drums:
Pounding headaches are a classic of the genre, but there isn’t much to expound on here. Wherever yours plots on the sliding scale from “gentle throb behind the eyes” to “Frenchman living in your head”, some hail-mary paracetamol and biblical quantities of water are your only real hopes of salvation. As with all of these examples, you might find yourself pledging to any deity you can think of that you’ll never touch another drop for the rest of your miserable life. Then go back to bed, either to nap or simply to cower as the storm passes. This is one variety of hangover that is not always helped by leaving the house; daylight is aggressive towards migraines, whilst fresh air could prove an ally. Trust your gut. Speaking of…
Double Cauldron Trouble
Probably the most common symptom. Resurfacing into cold consciousness and plunging straight into a world of gastrointestinal turmoil; out of the frying pan, into the fire. This breed of hangover is all-encompassing, malicious, harrowing; you will be unable to tackle any other considerations until it has been exorcised. Therefore, act decisively. This might involve an evacuation of your stomach – encourage whatever’s causing the ruckus to leave by whichever of the two emergency exits is closest. You might need to summon the bouncer, by which I mean nicotine. It won’t be pretty, but it is sometimes absolutely essential. From there, there are several options. Begin repairing the damage immediately with whatever you can envisage eating. If saliva starts pooling in your mouth at the very thought, curl up in the foetal position and watch anaesthetising brainrot to help you surf over the waves of nausea. The crucial consideration with any course of treatment here, even things like rehydrating or moving about, is to proceed with caution.
Exhaust All Avenues
The Exhaust All Avenues hangover is the easiest to summarise and advise on; you just wake up knackered. This could be because you had to get up for something (in which case your work ethic is to be commended), because you routinely wake up early, because the booze has wreaked havoc with the quality, not the quantity of your sleep… whatever the cause, there are solutions aplenty, and in the absence of other physical frailties, we’re free to try them all and in any combination. Caffeine. Back to bed immediately. Tough it out and get an early night. Food and drink. Until you find the optimal course of action, you’re going to be 20-50% worse at everything you do, but that will be the extent of the challenge.
The Ghost
Hangovers are fickle mistresses. One morning you’ll find your entire day has been carpetbombed by a quiet three pints, and on other occasions your decision to triple the NHS recommended weekly unit intake the night before goes mysteriously unpunished. The latter is what I call the ghost hangover. There’s an apprehensive presence, haunting the darker recesses of your mind, scuttling into some obscure and unidentifiable corner of your body (something Amis termed “the metaphysical hangover”) but you’ve yet to be struck down. Three possibilities here. 1) you’ve got off scot free. Congratulations. 2) It’s a looming tidal wave, like that scene in Interstellar, and you will shortly be drowned. Commiserations. 3) You’re still drunk, but petering out. Complicated. For all three, hair of the dog is a legitimate strategy.
The Bender Extender
The Bender Extender hangover is Winnie the Pooh to the Ghost hangover’s Eeyore. Again, one tends to arise more or less symptomless – and even if you’re rough around the edges, it’s of no real consequence because yours and your comrades’ spirits are being nourished by the prospect of further mutual intoxication. This hangover is indigenous to holidays, especially when abroad. It’s a void where you’d expect to feel appalling, but don’t. This explains why wrinkly Sardinians regularly live to 98 on a diet of olives, cigarettes and wine; their wholesome ingredients, the serene sunshine, and their lack of hassle (I mean, when was the last time someone did a day’s work in Sardinia?) spare them the physical maladies we pasty, stressed-out, hungover Brits endure.
Miscellaneous items
There are, of course, many other types and permutations of hangovers, and many methods of damage limitation I haven’t addressed. Anthony Bourdain’s chapter and verse goes like this: “aspirin, cold Coca-Cola, smoke a joint, eat some spicy Szechuan food, then wait until the nausea and self-loathing abates”. Unscientific evidence also suggests that having sex is both a cure for, and made more appealing by, a hangover. If you know someone willing to help you with this endeavour, that’s handy. If not, you’ll have to self-administer, which is the other sort of handy. I would also encourage you to leave the house as the easiest way to keep the Black Dog from the door, whether he visits you in the shape of a hangover or any other psychological distress. The length or time of your trip doesn’t matter, nor the reason.
Above all, if the phantom of excessive alcohol has dripped its ectoplasm on you during the night, remember that hangovers are important. The worse they are, the sweeter life will taste when you emerge from your mausoleum. Alcohol is God’s apology for making us self aware; hangovers are his import tariffs. Take refuge in the solidarity of the countless others reckoning with the same cost, but bear in mind that your hangover is uniquely yours, and uniquely your problem. It is a demon we must all ultimately face alone, but don’t worry; we’re all there for each other, and barring fatal consumption levels, we will all prevail. Finally, please drink responsibly.
Unless other people already aren’t, in which case it’s fine not to.
