So many people nowadays are worried about health care and what they can do if they get hurt or get sick.
They also worry about how much it costs to get a health plan.
Well I guess we were lucky back during The Depression, because we had instant care 24 hours a day, at no cost at all.
That plan was called O'Mama Care, and if mama wasn't available, it was Granny Care.
We were not blessed with having all the antibiotics and preventive drugs that we have now, so we caught every disease that came down the road. We also did not wear shoes in the summer and that resulted in a lot of cuts and stomped toes.
I can remember that I presented mother to chicken pox, measles, mumps, whooping cough, flu and many cuts and bruises.
Mother generally had a method of treatment and she relied heavily on Watkins Cough syrup and other life-saving products of theirs. The worst medicine she could pull out of the medicine cabinet was Castor Oil. If you weren't sick before you took it, you would be after.
That is the worst health care product ever put on this ole Earth. One good thing it did, was keep kids from acting sick to miss school, because they would get a blast of Castor Oil.
I remember burning my arm pretty bad on an old pot-bellied stove and my Granny Jones came to my aid with a potato poultice wrap that pulled the heat out of it.
When I was about 9 or 10 years old, mother took me to Dr. Robinson to have my tonsils and adenoids removed. His office was upstairs in the McKee Building on Main Street. I set in a chair similar to a dentist chair for the operation.
The doctor used Novacaine to deaden the pain and then snipped the tonsils out with what looked like scissors.
The adenoids were removed with what looked like a syringe and when he pulled on it, it felt like strings were being pulled out of my head.
After it was all over, mother treated me to a Coke.
Thank goodness we did not have anything back then as deadly as the the COVID-19 virus. The one disease we did have was tuberculosis, which was deadly, but not as easily spread.
My mother and father held their worship service at a house in Bybee and the people that owned the house had a daughter that had tuberculosis.
The county or the health department provided them with an outlying building to isolate her from the family. The building was about 12x12 feet with three sides. It had a flap covering screen windows.
In warm weather, they raised the flaps and it was a screen room with fresh air. Unfortunately, the daughter did not pull through.
There were several of these little buildings in the county. My mother lost one of her sisters to that disease when she was about 20 years of age.
As I said before, we all went barefoot in the summer. As soon as school ended, off came the shoes.
I got cuts on my feet and then went swimming in the most polluted ponds, like the rock quarry, the Lighthouse pond, or the big Moberly, and didn't get infected.
Talk about lucky.
Walker Howell wasn't so lucky. He was a strong young man and swimming in Lighthouse Pond he got an infection that almost cost him his life, but he pulled out of it.
One of my best friends, Jack Pearson, chipped his thigh playing football at 15 years of age and it got infected and took his life. It is just sad we did not have Penicillin back then to combat those infections.
Back in those days, the doctors had offices but they came to your house if you were sick in bed. I can't remember the hospital even having an emergency room, but you could get service in the hospital.
There were three hospitals, in Richmond back then. The Pattie A Clay on Fourth Street, The Pope Hospital on Second Street and the Gibson on Main Street and Fifth.
There were plenty of hospital beds in town.
Special congratulations to Braxton Hicks. He memorized the Optimist Creed and and received an honor plaque for his accomplishment.
Well done, Braxton.
On a sweet note
I have really been enjoying my breakfast toast with Jimmy Barnes' peach jam on it.
You must choose the thoughts and actions that will lead you to success. We grow because we struggle, we learn and overcome -- R. C. Allen
Until next time ... live, love, laugh and learn, Glenmore.