To spare the more morbid details, I somehow got it into my head that my dad died because he’d been “poisoned by accidentally swallowing mouthwash”. And so I stopped using mouthwash because I was scared that it would kill me “too”. Eventually this came up in conversation with my mom, and she told me that I was mistaken — but I just never really got back into using mouthwash despite that reassurance. I think a part of this was just that I associated mouthwash with my dad so strongly that using it without him was too uncomfortable.