8 things people who grew up in the 70s keep in their medicine cabinet that modern doctors would probably have opinions about but they've used them for decades and they're not stopping now

Last week, while helping my neighbor organize her bathroom, she opened my medicine cabinet to borrow some aspirin and let out a gasp.

"Is that... Mercurochrome?" she asked, pointing to the small brown bottle tucked behind my vitamin D.

I laughed, remembering how my mother used to paint every scraped knee with that orange-red antiseptic that left us looking like we'd been marked for some tribal ritual.

"Still works like a charm," I told her, watching her expression shift between horror and fascination.

That moment got me thinking about all the remedies those of us who grew up in the '70s still swear by.

You know the ones.

The bottles and jars that have moved with us through countless relocations, surviving every Marie Kondo-inspired decluttering session because, well, they work.

Sure, modern medicine has come a long way, and I'm grateful for every advancement.

But there's something to be said for the tried-and-true remedies that have gotten us through everything from bee stings to backaches for the past forty-odd years.

1) Mercurochrome or Merthiolate

Remember that distinctive sting that told you the medicine was working?

My sisters and I would blow on our scraped knees frantically while Mom applied this ruby-red antiseptic, convinced the burning meant it was killing every germ within a five-mile radius.

Yes, I know they've banned the mercury-containing versions, and yes, I've heard all the concerns.

But that little bottle of the newer formulation still sits in my cabinet, and when I get a paper cut or a minor scrape from gardening, out it comes.

There's something reassuring about that familiar red stain on my skin, like a badge that says "this wound has been properly tended to."

2) Vicks VapoRub

Is there anything Vicks can't cure?

Growing up, this mentholated ointment was our family's answer to everything respiratory.

Chest cold? Slather it on.

Stuffy nose? Dab it under your nostrils.

My grandmother even swore by putting it on the soles of your feet with socks to stop nighttime coughing.

I still do this, by the way, and I don't care if there's no scientific evidence for it.

When you're miserable at 2 AM, and it helps you sleep, that's all the evidence you need.

These days, I also use it for my arthritis.

A little Vicks on my stiff hands before bed seems to help, though my doctor just shakes her head when I mention it.

3) Hydrogen peroxide

That satisfying fizz when hydrogen peroxide hits a wound?

That's the sound of my childhood.

We used it for everything: cleaning cuts, gargling for sore throats (diluted, of course), and even lightening our hair in the summer.

I know modern wound care has moved away from hydrogen peroxide, saying it can damage tissue and slow healing.

But for minor cuts and that splinter I got last week from my garden gate?

The bottle comes out.

There's something deeply satisfying about watching it bubble away what shouldn't be there.

4) Milk of Magnesia

That chalky white liquid was our family's solution to any digestive upset.

Heartburn, indigestion, or what my mother delicately called "irregularity" - Milk of Magnesia was the answer.

I still keep a bottle in my cabinet, right next to the fancy probiotics my daughter convinced me to try.

Sometimes the old ways are the best ways, especially when you've eaten too much of your sister's famous five-alarm chili at the family reunion.

5) Aspirin for everything

Before we had different pain relievers for every type of ache, we had aspirin. Period.

Headache? Aspirin.

Fever? Aspirin.

Sore muscles from helping Dad stack wood? Aspirin.

I still reach for it first, though now I know to take it with food.

My medicine cabinet has one of those giant bottles from the warehouse store, and yes, I use it for my hip pain when my daily walks leave me a bit achy.

My doctor actually approves of this one, though she did make me switch to the coated kind.

6) Witch hazel

This clear liquid in its unassuming bottle has been my companion through teenage acne, summer mosquito bites, and now the occasional hot flash.

My mother taught me to keep cotton pads soaked in cold witch hazel in the refrigerator for puffy eyes or to cool down on sweltering summer days.

It's gentle, it's natural, and it's been around since before my grandmother's time.

Why would I stop using something that's served three generations of women in my family so well?

7) Calamine lotion

Pink and chalky, calamine lotion was the summer uniform of every kid in the '70s.

Poison ivy, mosquito bites, mysterious rashes from rolling down hills - all got the calamine treatment.

I still keep a bottle for the occasional gardening mishap.

Sure, there are newer anti-itch creams with ingredients I can't pronounce, but there's something comforting about that familiar pink coating that dries to a powdery finish, taking the itch with it.

8) Ben Gay or similar heating rubs

That unmistakable medicinal smell that announced to everyone within a block radius that someone had overdone it?

That's the smell of relief in my house.

After a day of working in the garden, when my hip reminds me it's not as young as it used to be, I reach for that familiar tube.

The warming sensation, the penetrating smell that seeps into your pillowcase no matter how long you let it dry - it's all part of the healing ritual.

My physical therapist suggests newer formulations, but why fix what isn't broken?

Final thoughts

Do I also embrace modern medicine? Absolutely.

I'm grateful for advancements in healthcare and follow my doctor's advice on the important things.

But these medicine cabinet stalwarts?

They're more than just remedies.

They're connections to our past, reminders of our mothers' care, and proof that sometimes the simplest solutions are the most enduring.

They've earned their spot on my shelf through decades of faithful service, and until they stop working, they're staying right where they are.