The Musical Called “My Life”
“Never go to a doctor whose
office plants have died.”
- Erma Bombeck
Until recently, I haven’t had much of a “medical” history. I have been blessed with fairly good health,
and my children suffered relatively few illnesses throughout their lives. However, today I had to go to the doctor . .
. yet again.
Without getting too personal, I should tell you that I recently
had a hysterectomy . . . I know that’s quite personal! Anyway, I guess after 10
children I really didn’t need all of that stuff anymore, and the surgery was a
precautionary measure against a high likelihood of uterine and/or ovarian
cancer. I am happy to report that I am
healing splendidly, mission accomplished, no cancer! I am grateful for modern medicine, and all of
the benefits, but I have not typically been one to go to a medical doctor very
often. Let’s go back a bit so I can
explain.
When I was growing up in Eagle Rock, California, our main family
doctor was a Chiropractor, who also happened to be a member of our church. We would go to him for most of what ailed us,
and to this day, I LOVE to have my neck “cracked” . . . though I’m sure he
would roll over in his grave to hear me refer to a chiropractic adjustment in
such a way. I keep getting side-tracked
. . . but, when I was in the 10th grade, I developed some Plantar (Seed)
Warts on the bottom of my foot. My mom
took me to see Doc Allred instead of to a “regular” doctor. He sprayed some kind of freezing agent on my
heel, dug out the warts, bandaged me up, and sent me on my way with a pair of crutches
that I sported for about a week. Problem
solved . . . warts gone!
The only time I remember going to an actual M.D. as a child was
when I was about 5-years old. My dad
played softball for a church league and we would go to the park and “watch” the
game. In all actuality, my older sister
and I would run around the park while the game was being played. During one game, my sister, who was four
years older, decided it would be fun to run up and down and all along the
bleachers . . . and it was . . . until I slipped through the opening at the top
and fell through. I don’t remember much
of what happened since I think I was knocked out cold, but I am told she
screamed, the game came to an abrupt stop, and next thing I knew I was opening
my eyes as I was set on the hood of someone’s car and looking up into the eyes
of a crowd of people hovering over me. I
had split my head open, so my parents and Dr. Kerl (who happened to be at the
game) rushed me to his office to get stitches.
Now it is likely that I visited a doctor more often than one time, but
it is the only event I remember other than regular visits to my eye doctor . .
. I started wearing glasses when I was three years old . . . and regular visits
to my uncle, the torture dentist! That
is, until just before I got married.
I’m not sure they follow this practice anymore, but when I got
married in the 70s, you had to go to a doctor to get a blood test before you
could get your marriage license. I ended
up having to get a measles booster shot, so I was given a stern warning about
not getting pregnant for at least eight weeks.
Things sure have changed . . . in so many ways. It was another two years before I would visit
a doctor.
When I became pregnant with my first child, I scheduled a visit
with a doctor through Kaiser-Permanente in Bellflower, CA. I followed the usual pre-natal protocol, and
when my due date arrived, I actually went into labor and delivered my son. About 12 months later, I was back in the
hospital delivering my daughter. Now I
am not going to regale you with childbirth stories because there are way too
many . . . and it would take way too long, but my third child, a girl, was born
about 18 months later in a hospital in Provo, Utah. Even though I had my first three children in hospitals,
with traditional OBGYNs, I still did not use any medication. Perhaps it was my non-traditional medical
upbringing, or just my aversion to hospitals, but my next six children were
born at home, with the assistance of midwives.
I loved my experiences with home birth, so it was a little difficult when I had to return to a hospital setting for the birth of my 10th child. Even then, I was able to deliver her in a newly constructed birthing center at the Feather River Hospital in Paradise, CA. I was also able to benefit from the skilled care of a nurse midwife. So, other than having to drive to the delivery room, the birthing experience was as close to a home birth as it's possible to create in a hospital setting. I guess you could say that, unlike Prissy in Gone With The Wind, I knew lots about birthin’ babies!
But, once my children were born, I rarely took them to a doctor. I can count on one hand, with fingers left over, the number of ear infections I had to deal with, and other than stitches or a few broken bones, my children rarely visited the pediatrician’s office. I didn’t hate doctors I just didn’t like medicine, especially antibiotics. The one time I gave one of my sons an antibiotic he broke out in hives from an allergic reaction and ended up in the hospital!
I did have one other experience with doctors and hospitals when my ex moved our family to Austin, TX. To make a long story short, I broke my leg, and had surgery to put screws and a plate in my ankle. After it healed, I had another surgery to remove all of the hardware. Other than that, I avoided traditional doctors and medicine as much as possible . . . until about 4 years ago.
About 3 a.m. one morning I was taken to the emergency room with what I thought was a heart attack! Yes, I was happy in that moment that I lived in a world with modern technology and lots of advanced medications. It turns out I was suffering from a mild form of cardiomyopathy, and after a few tests and a bit of time to heal, I got better! This event was one in a string of crazy and unexplainable health crisis that I had recently had to deal with, but finally I had some answers as to what had been going on. However, it seems that as you age, and one part of you starts to break down . . . well, I sometimes feel like I’m falling apart.
I loved my experiences with home birth, so it was a little difficult when I had to return to a hospital setting for the birth of my 10th child. Even then, I was able to deliver her in a newly constructed birthing center at the Feather River Hospital in Paradise, CA. I was also able to benefit from the skilled care of a nurse midwife. So, other than having to drive to the delivery room, the birthing experience was as close to a home birth as it's possible to create in a hospital setting. I guess you could say that, unlike Prissy in Gone With The Wind, I knew lots about birthin’ babies!
But, once my children were born, I rarely took them to a doctor. I can count on one hand, with fingers left over, the number of ear infections I had to deal with, and other than stitches or a few broken bones, my children rarely visited the pediatrician’s office. I didn’t hate doctors I just didn’t like medicine, especially antibiotics. The one time I gave one of my sons an antibiotic he broke out in hives from an allergic reaction and ended up in the hospital!
I did have one other experience with doctors and hospitals when my ex moved our family to Austin, TX. To make a long story short, I broke my leg, and had surgery to put screws and a plate in my ankle. After it healed, I had another surgery to remove all of the hardware. Other than that, I avoided traditional doctors and medicine as much as possible . . . until about 4 years ago.
About 3 a.m. one morning I was taken to the emergency room with what I thought was a heart attack! Yes, I was happy in that moment that I lived in a world with modern technology and lots of advanced medications. It turns out I was suffering from a mild form of cardiomyopathy, and after a few tests and a bit of time to heal, I got better! This event was one in a string of crazy and unexplainable health crisis that I had recently had to deal with, but finally I had some answers as to what had been going on. However, it seems that as you age, and one part of you starts to break down . . . well, I sometimes feel like I’m falling apart.
But today . . . the good news means that even with everything I’ve
been through, I am still relatively healthy.
Now, if I could just find that slender person that’s lost inside of me
somewhere! Regardless, I have always
been fortunate to have the best care for my current condition, whatever it is .
. . and though I didn’t often utilize traditional Western medicine, I am
extremely grateful that I am alive in this century, where so many options are
available. I have been able to take
advantage of the best of Eastern and Western medical practices and traditions,
and for that I am extremely grateful.
So you ask, what’s the song that has been running through my mind
with all of this talk about doctors . . . well . . . it’s been a few of them .
. .
