Sometimes, doing nothing is precisely what you need to heal. I caught a cold over the week. When I started having a scratchy throat that wouldn’t go away, I knew I was in for it.
The other symptoms came in a flurry. My nose began to run, and my handkerchief was soaked in minutes. I had to avoid people to hide my regular nose cleaning sessions. I sneezed so forcefully that my head shook. My face felt heavy, then came the headache, the fever, and even an earache. I had gotten more than I bargained for.
I was supposed to be preparing for exams, but I slept most of the day to ease out the malaise. I drank lots of water, lay myself down, and did everything to relax and see out the cold as it ran its course. When the headache became worse, I took paracetamol. At the first sign of fever or malaise, a younger me would have gone straight for antimalarials, with antibiotics to boot. I didn’t know better. But now I do. I know a virus causes the common cold. I know we are in the cold season. I know enough people in and outside my community experiencing similar symptoms to realise what I had wasn’t unusual. I had no red flags, no secondary bacterial or malarial infections to worry about. So, I allowed the cold to run its course. Three days later, here I am with a bruised philtrum, but fine and fully recovered.
I understand how tempting it is for people to reach for something—herbs, medications, especially antibiotics—when cold symptoms appear. Not doing anything feels like negligence, especially if our symptoms worsen or persist. Taking medications feels like control. So we seek medications without realising that we don’t actually need them.
Antibiotics are ineffective against the common cold. Yet, the common cold and other viral respiratory tract infections account for more than half of all antibiotic use. It could be argued that those who take antibiotics for the common cold are uninformed, but even those with tertiary education also choose to take them. A nationwide survey of undergraduates across Nigeria shows that more than 40% reported using antibiotics for cold and flu, despite knowing that misuse contributes to antibiotic resistance.
This contradiction shows that knowledge alone doesn’t always change behaviour. When illness strikes, we want relief, not microbiological facts or public health warnings. And when over-the-counter antibiotics are easily available, it’s easier to subscribe to taking medicines than doing the right thing, which is often doing nothing. I had also misused antibiotics. I took Flagyl for the slightest diarrhoea, Amoxicillin and Artemisinin Combination Therapy (ACT) for a nagging fever.
But I know better now. Studying microbiology and now medicine has shown me how unnecessary and risky that habit can be. I know now that my body can recover from the common cold without taking an antibiotic. Someday, I hope more people will come to that point too, without needing a microbiology or medical degree.
Infections are increasingly difficult to treat because the organisms that cause them are developing resistance. Antibiotic resistance jeopardises the progress we’ve made in preventing and controlling infections, prolonging life, and reducing avoidable deaths. One major reason for this resistance is the inappropriate and excessive use of antibiotics. Antibiotic misuse not only happens in clinical medicine, but also in poultry, fish farming, and even everyday products such as soaps and body lotions, toothpastes, and clothing. We need to become better consumers, and that starts with knowing when we don’t need to consume antibiotics.
It’s valid to worry that doing nothing, not using antibiotics when we are ill, is leaving our bodies to the ravages of illnesses. I might have acted differently if my symptoms were worse, if I couldn’t rise out of bed, or do anything useful. But I didn’t, because the common cold is self-limiting. It will go away whether I take medicine or not. It’s not ravaging, and if it were, it would have been better for me to visit a doctor than to self-medicate.
As I did nothing, my body was doing something. It was working to clear out the virus. It fought and helped me heal. I only needed to step aside and let it. Stepping aside doesn’t mean I was not doing anything. It means I was doing exactly what I needed to do: nothing. I did not need antibiotics for that.
Public health policies, advocacy efforts, and lectures can help us moderate our antibiotic use, but it’s essential to personalise that moderation. While we certainly need these policies and initiatives to guide us, we can begin our journey toward antimicrobial stewardship by acknowledging and accepting our body’s natural ability to heal.
