Keeping heathy in the Good Ole days

Found in our old barn's timbers

We like to think that life was good in the "old days", when our grandparents were young and WW1 was on the horizon.

Telephones that hung on the wall? Water hand pumped in the kitchen? Wood burning stoves?  

Some of those old days were good in the sense that social life was simpler. The old days were more community oriented. 

But medical care? My mom once told me how Dr. Wells performed her appendectomy on the dining room table. House calls were the only time most people saw the doctor. Prescriptions? Home remedies and readily available self-medications for the most part.

Much of the rural areas didn't have free access to medicine and care. My grandmother spoke about her grandmother who was an herbalist whom people sought out for all the illnesses that affected them. She was apparently was admired and respected.

Moving on to the eras of when all the odd ingredients of medical life opened the realm of possibilities.

At the farm, our barn had been built late 1800s, and was leaning by 1970s When the barn was torn down, an untold number of medicinal bottles were found, all of which were long empty and those few still had small amounts of amber liquid, sealed in by caps melded to the glass. (owner of our farm was a doctor and had the liquid analyzed. It was alcohol.)

Order form

$95 · A rare (Heroin) original 1915 government issued "Order Form for Opium, Etc". A similar form from the 1920s was recently shown on the History Channel during a program on illegal drugs.

one dose should be enough

asthma patients

women diseases

Found treasure

We look at the contents of these cures for common colds and we are horrified by its contents. "Good old days" take on a new view when we think of people of that era. They must have felt pretty good/well after a few doses

Etsy

 Doctors had absolutely no control what his patients took for what ailed them.
Did he have any idea about the contents? Did he even know the effects of the miracle tonics, elixirs?

What about the prescription below? Did Dr. George Nichopolous realize the results of the prescribed meds he gave Elvis Presley? I am betting he did.

Pinterest

Here, in the "good new days", we are aware of contents and need. BUT, there are doctors who are on a paycheck from the rich and famous, who pull out that controlled substance pad. Insurance businesses have so much to say about and to control different medications. Who gets what and how much...

No surgeries on the dining room table, I am guessing.

I posted this in 2019 and I have done some editing and rewriting..  I hope those who enjoyed it then will still enjoy it. Like many posts that I resurrect, I have more understanding now than I did back then (which indicates a learning curve) and my writing skills are different and sometimes better.  

It was murder. Morde! Muerter! Esmoreden!

Switzerland is famous for its incredible awe-inspiring beauty, and rightly so.  When I viewed my first mountain with its cap of white snow, I almost reached out to see if it was a painting or real. 

The people of Switzerland are polite and well-educated, and the unemployment rate is near to nothing.  And most have a dog or two, which are also polite and well-trained.  The canine walk on leash, silent, and discreet in relieving needs, which the owner promptly removes with a Swiss provided bag and disposal sites along the sidewalks.

Scrumpy and Porter (named for types of English beers)

My daughter Mary and husband Richard had two dogs, Porter and Scrumpy.  Porter had a stoic dignity about him; he kept feet warm, let my grandson climb over him, and considered himself to be superior to his fellow dog, Scrumpy.

Scrumpy was a fun-loving and likable mutt, with mixed terrier tendencies and low on the intelligence scale.  If there was to be something destroyed in the house, Scrumpy was guilty while Porter shook his head. Scrumpy..Scrumpy.

The Swiss also have professional dog-sitters: people who are prepared with all the needs a dog might have.  Mary and Richard have left Porter and Scrumpy with a lovely lady on many trips, where dogs are happy.

One two week holiday had an unusual twist in the regular day's activities.  Life for Porter and Scrumpy had been proceeding just fine, until this one afternoon.

Harry's general size 

The lady had two large old pet tortoises named Bernard and Isle which also occupied the dog yard. along with a new small tortoise, Harry.. Bernard and Isle had a platonic, complacent relationship with all the other dogs. Porter and Scrumpy had stayed there several times.

 

So it was a big surprise to all when Scrumpy raced toward the Harry, and scooped him up.  He shook it side to side to side.  Then Scrumpy threw him in the air, where the little guy turned end on end, landing with a thump on his back.

Scrumpy moved in for the kill—dogs seem to know how to do this.  With his front paws, Scrumpy disemboweled the small tortoise.

Porter had been laying under the shade of a tree, observing his impulsive friend do all this, gave one bark, which said it all:  Damn it, Scrumpy, you idiot!  Scrumpy happily jogged over to Porter, a jaunty wag of his tail singing his victory.

The owner lady came screaming and cursing.  How it all ended, I don’t know. Mary and Richard were rather silent on this, while Benjamin still loved to chase Scrumpy around the house.

But I do know this: Scrumpy and Porter were no longer welcomed at her house.

This is a re-post from 2018  My two grandsons are Benjamin now age 14 and James is 8.  Porter and Scrumpy died of extreme old age. Now they have a dog named Waffle and Benjamin has 3 rats. .

An Almost Word...

                                                                        
                                                           

https://www.gettyimages.com/

Buzzing, flitting--

Out of reach.

Evading defiantly:

A drunken gnat of memory.

Tantalizing with maybe,

Could be, almost…

Sleep descends,

Eyes heavy in a curtain of dark.

Hidden letters a-b-c stretch out,

Swatting the inebriated midge.

The almost-name, almost-word

Rises from the hazy smoke

Of buried, cluttered

Memory

I wrote this in 2013, back before the senior citizen years began.

This means so much to me now that I have reached this age and my brain taunts me all the time. Damn it.