Wednesday, August 06, 2008

What's in a name?

If you know me at all, you know that I have headaches quite frequently, probably due to my back problems. By frequently I mean at least every 2 months. They generally last for about 3 days. Going to the chiropractor helps a little bit, but I mostly just have to wait it out. It bites the big one.

My most recent headache adventure began on Monday morning when I woke up with a pounding headache. Not the most pleasant way to start your day. I often wonder why this happens--you'd think that sleep would prevent a headache. What a conundrum.
Needless to say, I take a lot of Advil. A lot. I think my body is too used to it, in fact, to let it have any affect on me. I take it anyway, though, hoping it will help me somehow. I wasn't helping at all yesterday, however, so I took work off and decided to try a different pain reliever. I even talked to the pharmacist at Wal-Mart. I told him my situation with the Advil and he said "the next step up is Aleve." I was a bit surprised because I thought they were pretty much the same thing, but I followed his advice and bought some Aleve.
I'm still not sure if Aleve if my drug of choice because I don't know if I felt better because of it or because I went to the chiropractor. However, I am quite sure that the makes of Aleve chose the better sounding name for their pill. Think about it: Aleve sounds like relieve. Advil sounds like...? ANVIL! Who in the world would name their pain relieving medication after something that is know for smashing people in cartoons? Bad move, namers.

I will definitely keep giving Aleve a chance, even if it's only because the name sounds better than Advil.

10 comments:

deb said...

haha. Anvil. If I remember I am going to call Advil Anvil. Good one. I think Advil tastes pretty good. I hate taking medicine. Which is funny because that is my father's livelihood.

Meg Duffy said...

hahaha... idiot namers. love this. oh nikki... wish I could be there to sing you a sweet lullaby and make that headach go away... or give you a backrub.

smart alec said...

well, we all know about my thoughts on advil - and aleve for that matter. but i'm glad it helps you. headaches are no good. and i'm super excited to see you tonight. woot

Erin said...

I had actually never thought of the anvil thing, but the relieve/aleve business is something I've considered.

And actually, did you know that when drug companies come out with a new drug, they're not allowed to pick a name that makes it sound more appealing than the competition? That's why they all sound crazy and none of them are like perfectblissizone.

My husband just finished a pharmacy technician class and is going to be a real pharmacist one day, so I know valuable info like that.

Dani said...

i'm sorry about your headache. in other news, i'm coming back to provo in three weeks...that should make you very, very happy.
happy enough to forget your headache.

ms. s. manwaring said...

I definately agree with the name thing. That's half the reason why Dani's so manly. It's all in the name, after all.

hayley said...

well as your best and most capable artistic friend, I would suggest that not only does Aleve win in its phonetic qualities, but the visual aids you have provided suggest even more. Notice the heavenly clean whiteness of the Aleve pill. Now notice that burnt orange/brown nothing color on the Advil, looks like a southwest interior design scheme gone wrong. I wouldn't trust that color. Next: the shape. Though circles (Advil) have long been thought to symbolize eternity and unity, in fact this shape is more capable of lodging in the esophagus. OUCH! Think, the elliptical softness of Aleve. Lastly, lettering. I want you to take a good look at the Advil. The black font cuts through the surface of the pill as though it doesn't belong there at all, but in fact is in rebellion. Also, the serified font is merely stenciled on, while the Aleve pill goes the extra mile by providing a nice relief (dual-meaning) effect, causing shadows and highlights to come together in a mesmerizing, lilting display of chiaroscuro, which clearly indicates that the Makers of Aleve take that extra step in making your life better.
Who would you rather trust in pain relief?

Unknown said...

Relief. Dual meaning. Ha ha ha! That's clever. You are such an analyst.

Kristi said...

Wow! I want to go take Aleve! And I don't even have a headache.

hayley said...

Meg's weird.