Tonsil Terror

When my sister Diane was 11yrs. old , I was 5 yrs old, and we both needed our tonsils out.  So surgery was scheduled and off to the hospital we went.  I remember the nurse wanted me to pee in a stainless steel bowl, but I was so scared I could not make any urine.  Diane had no problem, only she hated needles and was very uncooperative.  Finally, before mom and dad  left the hospital, I peed for the nurses.  We were in the same room, with high beds that had even higher railings, I guess it was to prevent us from getting out of bed.  Ha!!  I was so scared, especially when it came time to say good-night to our parents!!  Diane and I walked mom and dad to the elevator, we gave hugs and kisses to each other.  This was the very first time ever sleeping away from home, and it had to be in a hospital.  Diane stood behind me, cause she was supposed to take care of me, being the oldest.  As the elevator doors was about to shut, a man in a white uniform knelt down next to me and he put his arm around both of us.  The doors shut and he looked me right inthe eye and asked if they were our parents and then told you, " Did you know that was the last time you will ever see your parents, they will not be back to get either of you again!"  That sent us into absolute hysteria, crying, pounding on the elevator doors and yelling for mom and dad to come back!!!  Nurses came out of the woodwork, they grabbed each of us and instead of asking why we were crying, they forced us back into our room.  As they were putting me in my bed I tried to watch to see what they did to my sister.  There were 3 or 4 nurses that put Diane in her bed and then they tied her arms and legs to the bed.  Another nurse came in and gave Di a shot that settled her down very quickly.  Now I was really afraid, would they separate us while we slept?  Would I ever see mom, dad, or Diane again?  Where would they send us, who would take care of us?  I fought with all the might of a 5 year old, and soon I had 4 nurses holdi9ng me in bed on my stomach.  They never explained what they were doing or going to do which was so frightening for me.  Next thing I knew a nurse was pushing a long white hose like thing up my butt!!  What was happening???  At least they did not tie me down, I was so tired I just relaxed and acted like Diane did, like I was going to go to sleep.  All the nurses left our room turned off the lights and closed our door.  Then with my babydoll, I climbed up and over my bed rail, stepped onto my nighstand, onto Diane's nightstand, and I scurried up her railing to try and wake her up.  But she couldn't wake up, so I got under the covers with her, and I untied her arms and legs.  Then I finally feel asleep holding my doll between us as I hung on for dear life to my sister.  In the morning I woke up in my own bed just in time for another round of seditives, out came the white hose and up my butt it went, but this time I was out fast.  Next thing I can remember was waking up to see mom and dad looking at me.  They were concerned because Diane came to alot sooner then I did, and wodnered why?  Diane told our parents about the intern or what ever you called him, and what he said as well as how we were treated by the nurses.  My parents raised "holy hell"!  That intern was fired by the next day, since he had done this kind of thing to children before.  The nurses were very nice and kind to us after they learned why we were so combative.  We had to stay ther for 3 to 4 days, and I will tell you, I never left Diane's side  untill we were discharged!!  Even when Diane went to the bathroom, I was in there with her and visa versa!!
I made a promise to myself that I would not ever if I could help it, be admitted into another hospital. 

Abbra-ka-dabbra

It has been a long time since blogging last and it is hard to get started again.  But a few weeks ago I was at my neighbor's house (cousin also) playing a dice game.  My cousin Jan asked me to get her some ice in her glass, since I was sitting next to the refrigerator.  As I was scooping up a handful of ice, one cube jumped ship and I was so sure it fell to the floor.  After looking again and again on the floor I began to think I was mistaken, after all where does an ice cube escape too?  As I started to set down my hand slipped inside of my jacket pocket, and it felt wet?!  So the next thing I did was to check how this could be, I put my hand in the pocket and guess what I found----that cowardly ice cube hiding!  As I pulled it out my cousins and I laughed so hard for so long, my stomach hurt.  What a trick, that was one for the books. I could not do that again if my life depended on it!! 

Wax On

We lived across the street from the village park where the slide was really tall  like 12 -14 feet high.  When I was little I would only use the baby slide that was maybe 5 feet high.  It was not as scary to climb, but was tricky to set down on at the top.  There was not much room to maneuver, and the platform was very short for anyone to sit on.  This was fun to go down because you went really slow.  When you would get to the end of the slide, the height was perfect for short little legs to reach the ground without falling down.  But as I got older and braver the bigger slide was fun, well funner!!  It was a slide that was not a straight downward slope, there were two waves you experienced on the way down.  That helped to propel you off the end and sort of gave you a thrill of up and down movement as you came down.  The secret to an even better ride was wax paper!!!! There also were 2 different ways to effectively use the wax paper.  One was to put it under you before you started to slide down, which was better each time you used it and really fun if every other time you used a new sheet!!  The other method was to slowly go down backwards and really wax the slide hard by hand to get all the surface as slippery as possible.  For this last method you needed to have at least 4 fresh sheets of the paper with you to cover it with new wax all the way.  What really was the topper, each time after, you waxed, it got slipperier!!  Now I should mention at the end of the  slide where you land, was a big drop off. It was filled with sand of course, but the section exactly at the end was two and a half feet drop.  Then the sand banked around that for at least 3 feet in each direction.  Man, when it was waxed well, going down was a blast, and the ride was fast!!!!!!!  But, I would only play there if no other people were there.  If it looked like another kid was coming to the park, I would start to walk home.  Then patiently wait until they were done playing, to return.  I can not remember a time other than with relatives that I ever played or ever stayed at the park with someone else.  At that time I was too shy to talk to, play with, or be around other children.  It was a way of protecting myself from getting hurt or rejected by them.  So one day I waxed that slide real good and went home to get my dad to come and see what a good job I had done!  He went down just one time.  He was not prepared for how slippery it truly was, so when he reached the end of the ride he sailed off to the edge of the soft sand.  Oh man, my dad hurt his back!  That made me feel so horrible, so responsible for his injury, I cried.  He kept telling me that it was alright he was not hurt that bad.  Then he told me what a good job of waxing I had done, but to be mindful of others who did not realize how slick it was before going down.  That was the last time I ever waxed a slide in my life!  Watching dad fly in the air made my stomach flip and I stayed near by to get him what ever he needed.  After dad got better, I did not have much of an interest in slides anymore.  Someone could get seriously hurt!  Sorry dad!!  Too bad Diane wasn't home, I would have asked her before dad for a test run!! 

Don't Bug Me!

We meet this couple and their daughter at a small park and invited them if they were ever in the neighborhood to drop by.  Well, to our surprise they were at our door one Saturday!  They were nice people, but they looked like they never bathed or changed clothes in awhile.  As was customary for us, when company came we took their coats and always laid them on the bed Diane and I shared.  They stayed for longer than we expected, or would have liked, and they were invited to stay for supper.  Sometime after eating they finally said good-bye, handed them the coats and were gone!!!  Several nights after this visit, I woke up with tiny bites all over my body, and they bled, so I must have been scratching at night.  After maybe a week of this my parents took me to a dermatologist to find out what was biting me.  The doctor looked at one arm and told my folks we had bed bugs.  My mom and dad looked shocked and wanted to know how to get rid of them.  That very night we all got on either side of the bed, and dad through back the covers as mom shined a flashlight on the sheets.  Yikes!!!  The bed was black with these bugs, and they are so fast, within 10 seconds they had scattered back into the mattress.  I ran out of the bedroom screaming and brushing my clothes at the thought of them all on me at night biting and drinking my blood!!!  Need I mention Diane slept in the same bed with me and did not get one bite.  The doctor said I had what was referred to as "sweet blood", which he also has and was the reason he became a dermatologist.  He had prescribed a cream for me to apply to heal the bites.  Dad had to drag the mattress outside into the pick up truck to burn down at Uncle Raymond's.  Then mom and Diane had to wipe the entire bed down with kerosene, and put coasters under the legs of the bed with kerosene in the coasters.  They treated the bed at least 2 times and at night had to check the carpet to make sure they were all gone.  When my folks were absolutely positive  they were gone, we had to but a new mattress.  Good thing we did not smoke, or my bed soaked in the kerosene would have ignited!!  Man I was so leery about sleeping in that bed or room again, but after one week I knew for sure no more bugs!  The dermatologist told my mom that I will attract  all types of bugs and insects because of my blood.  They smell it and it draws them to me, so I should be careful where I go or what I do.  The main concern would probably be bees or mosquitoes!!!  Since Diane does not have the same kind of blood, that was the reason she never got bitten.  Which just tickled her pink!!  She loved to dance around to sing "you are buggy I am not" or things along those lines.  This was just more ammo for her to use against me to try to make me feel bad.  At this time I was 10 and Di was around 16 years old.  She was a little frustrating to grow up around!! 

Calamine Kid

My sister and I were playing at a cousins house one day.  Cathy and her sisters always like to play in the ditches and catch like crayfish things.  While we were there Di and I followed her into the ditch.  Well, I should say Diane followed Cathy into the ditch, while I stayed close to the top by the edge of the lawn.  Diane was not afraid to try anything, but I was very careful to wisely choose activities that were safe for me.  This ditch was deep with weeds on both banks, and the water looked unclean and deeper than I was comfortable about walking in.  Di and Cathy had taken off their shoes to wade in the ditch to catch this ugly little creatures, YUK!  Cathy said the best place to find them was in the big metal tile that went under the road.  My thinking was that this was not smart or safe to be doing, but they were having fun.  So I followed the bank of the ditch and watched from the field when they were in the metal tile.  They came back to the house with several creepy things from the ditch.  The next morning I got up to discover my arms and legs were gather itchy.  Later that day mom took me to the doctors and found out I must have walked through poison ivy.  At home mom swabbed me up with Calamine Lotion that makes you want to itch like crazy when it dries.  Soon it was on my face, stomach, neck let's just say it was everywhere my hands touched.  I looked like Casper the friendly ghost, with a touch of pink.  Diane who went into the ditch did not get it.  Nor since we slept together she did not catch it.  She would laugh looking at me because I did not want to go outside with all that lotion on I looked awful.  Well, I also found out a few years later that when someone burns poison ivy, standing in the smoke made me break out big time.  Why is it that I catch  everything but Di doesn't?  The funny part was I did not even know what it looked like so I could avoid contact.  Which was the reason I kept getting  it over and over!!  Even today I am not sure if I could distinguish the plant.  It just seemed to me I was always getting coated with some chemical or lotion or first aid cream.  Sure kept my mom on her toes!! 

Lousy

In the third grade, the teacher made us sit alphabetically and that put me in the last seat in the last row.  This was the year I needed glasses I could not read the chalkboard from that far away.  This year was the most traumatic year of all the years going to school.  It would take up too much room too tell all of it in on blog, so this is just one incident from that time.  Where I was seated, the girl in front of me literally made me buggy with her constant itching of her head.  At home mom noticed I was itching my head so she called me over to check my head.  Her suspicions were correct, head lice!!  What in the world were head lice?  When dad got home he was informed with my dilemma, and they went into action.  Not knowing what to expect or never having heard of these things I was a little anxious.  Dad first laid newspaper down on the kitchen table, while mom retrieved what looked like a dog's flea comb.  Mom instructed me to bend over the newspaper on the table while she took that comb and tried to run it thru my hair.  My hair was longer and it was not an easy task.  As she was combing I heard something hit the paper, at which time my dad used his nails to kill the lice.  If he did not kill the critters, they would jump back up into my hair.  I scared my folks when I let out a loud scream, just to think these things were on me crawling!!!  Mom smacked the side of my head laughing at how she jumped when I screamed, I guess even dad jumped, they did not expect me to scream at all.  This procedure went on for more than an hour and a half.  Then they applied what was called Cuprex to my hair.  It was horrid, it smelled like kerosene, and burned my head from all the digging mom had done.  Long story short, we went thru this tedious procedure every night for a week, and to no avail.  The critters were very resilient!! So they had to take me to the doctor and he told them they were doing everything right.  It was a huge outbreak at school and each day I would get more from school.  The only thing he could suggest was to put on the Cuprex, wrap my head in a bandanna for an hour or more to kill the lice and the larva.   MAN< I thought my head was going to ignite it got so hot, and burning sensation like I never felt before or want to again!!  All I could do was sit there and tears ran down my face I was so miserable and sick to my stomach that I had bugs on me.  Funny thing I should mention, my sister Diane and I slept together this whole time and not one of those lousy lice jumped on her or her hair!  She apparently was not a good host unlike myself, who was all too hospitable.  Finally, this last trick worked and they all died, drown or suffocated from that awful solution.  It almost made me feel sorry for the little rascals, I said almost sorry!!!!  So relieved to declare Orkin is not going to be a career choice when I grow up. 

The Whack

One day we went to visit my dad's mother Grandma Z., of course we visited quite often.  Let's just say she was not the friendliest woman, or the nicest.  She complained about everything, nothing made her happy.  Can't say as I  have ever seen a smile on her face, remember her laughing!  Some people like to keep things in turmoil.  That would best explain Grandma Z.  This one day we had visited most of the afternoon and Grandma insisted we have milk with cookies or doughnuts, not homemade.  She had a round heavy wooden table in the kitchen with big wide legs that came out from the middle, you could rest your feet on if like mine, did not touch the floor.  We could only one at a time (house rules) to eat.  Unfortunately, I was the first to dunk my cookie into my milk, cause they were so blasted hard.  They must have been old, who would buy them like that?  Just as I had stuck that cookie in my milk glass, to my total shock and surprise, the handle end of a table knife came down hard across the back of my knuckles on that hand.  With a hurt and angry face I scowled to see who in the name of pain had whacked me!!!!!  It was none other than ol' cheerful Grandma Z!!  She shook the knife at me and in no kind voice told me it was impolite to dunk!!  WHAT!!  At home we dunk all the time, even my dad!!  It would have been nice if she gave a warning before breaking my knuckles.  That made my hand go numb for at least 10 to 15 seconds.  So I looked over at mom and dad and they put their head down as they were shaking it back and forth in a no motion.  Diane almost choked on her doughnut because that whack made her happy it hurt and happy it was not her!!  Grandma yelled at Diane for laughing, but Di just stuck her tongue out to her.  The whack made me mad, but what I was most mad at was that my cookies was in the bottom of my milk and dissolving into crumbs.  My luck it couldn't stay as hard as it was before I dunked.  All the way home this was the topic of conversation "the whack".   When we got home, I told my mother's mom, Grandma Y. what had happened and I started to cry.  Grandma Z made me drink all the stupid crumbs at the bottom from the cookies she knocked out of my hand!!  Crumbs in milk are yucky to drink, I think.  So Grandma Y said I could go get one of her delicious homemade cookies before bed, and I could dunk it if I wanted.  Her cookies were so soft and good they did not need to be dunked.  Diane went and got one too, which I did not think was fair, she ate her doughnut and cookies at Grandma Z's.  After "the whack"  I did not eat anything I was too upset, and it tasted old like grandma.  Well now you know too, dunking is not polite, unless done properly in your own home!!