I read this the other day and it is so good. Anyone my age will relate.
You seen the commercials- the caring mother tucks her ailing child in bed, kisses him on the forehead and wishes him sweet dreams.
The soothing announcer calls her "Dr. Mom."
Nice but, really, how true is it?
When I was growing up, we went to school no matter how intense the cholera. As long as our body parts stayed, more or less, in the places where they grew, we were fine.
"Fresh air will do you good, " mom said. So, while the icicles formed from my nose, I trudged to school, hoping we'd have chicken noodle soup, not phlegmy tater tot casserole.
f I got home and complained of an ear ache, she'd say, " Come here," and blow smoke in my ear.
If I had an upset stomach, she'd pour a glass of 7-up- the magic gastrointestinal elixi.
Fever? Get a washcloth, run in under cold waster and pu in on your head/
Runny nose, sore throat? Put Vicks Vapo-Rub on your chest and wrap a sock around your neck.
Hiccups? She'd find a paper bag, blow it up and pop it in my presence. If that ddn't work, she'd yell, "Boo!"
Measles? "Go to bed and turn out the the light. Don't itch."
Headache? "Stay away from the ice cream. That;s what;s causing it."
Name a problem, she had a solution.
She didn't need carseats either.
If we rode in the front seat and she had to make a sudden stop her right arm would instinctively spring out, keeping us from shooting through the windshield. If the weather was particularly bad, we'd have to huddle on the floor neat the "hump."
Because soft drinks came in bottles in those days, we were always told we'd chip a tooth f we drank on in the car while t was moving. So we were pretty about the following the rules. When cans began to replace them (because they were disposable-get that), we ran the risk of cutting our lips. It happened quite often because the pull tabs lifted off. Blood on the can? Entirely possible.
Second-hand smoke was never a considerations either. We didn't just have ashtrays in my hourse. We had hadwls- the size of pig trough. The school encouraged smoking too. For Christmas presents we'd make ashtrays for our parents. One year, we even took a mold of mom left hand so she could get a personalized ashtrya, one that fit snugly in her non-butt hand.
Vaccinations were also a universal thing. They weren't left to nursed in the Doctors office. They were part of the normal school day. Several times a year, teachers lined us up to get a shot for something. ( Swine flu was a big concern when I was young and since nobody wanted to oink, we dutifully stood in neat little rows.) Sugar cubes filled with medicine were also huge. Whenever they wanted to appeal to a wad of kids, they put something bad in a sugar cube and we were game.
Obesity wasn't much of a problem, though, because soda machines were hidden in the teacher's lounge. If you wanted to get a can of pop, you had to run the gauntlet-and withstand the mushroom cloud of smoke.
We also had physical education classes that were mandatory. If you didn't want to drop and give me 20, you ran the risk of failing.
Sometimes the medical advice we got wasn't good. ) Walk it off" isn't a panacea and butter doesn't help burns), but it saw us through a number of crises and gave us a sense of security.
It you want the truth behind all the "Dr. Mom" stuff, take a closer look at the commercial. It isn't what she's feeding the child that counts. It's the attention she's giving him.
Hugs and compassion.
Isn't it nice to know the best medicine doesn't always come in bottles?
This was written by Bruce Miller.