Knock on wood I’m not sick at the moment, but a lot of my students have been. I’ve been washing my hands like a maniac and pumping out the hand sanitizer. It got me thinking back to when I was a kid and what it was like when I was sick. Here are a few of my childhood memories.
1. Mom and Dad’s bed. This is where I would spend the day missing school and watching game shows and sleeping. Mostly sleeping. There were so many pillows, and a bathroom closeby. Just in case.
2. Cough medicine with codeine. Worked like a charm. I’m sure Mom appreciated it too.
3. The sliver bowl. Next to the bed. ‘Nuff said.
4. Ginger ale from the big glass bottle. There was this weird rubber and metal plunger stopper thingie that reclosed it and kept the bubbles in. Mostly.
5. The glass thermometer under the tongue. I hated that thing. My mom always put it too far back and poked me.
6. The revolting taste of penicillin. I thought my dad was so lucky that he was allergic to it, but now that I’m all grown up I’m glad I was able to benefit from it as a child.
7. My grandmother’s huge fluffy featherbed from Germany. I believe the down of an entire flock filled that featherbed. It was toasty warm and chased those nasty germs away.
8. The horrible ordeal of getting a shot at the doctor’s office. Oh how I cried. Always. I was such a big baby. I still cringe when I get my blood drawn.
Through it all, my mom was there. She took my temperature, cleaned out the silver bowl (ew), took me to the doctor’s office, tucked me under the featherbed, turned on the silly game shows, and poured out the ginger ale and codeine laced cough syrup. She has always been there when the going gets tough, because that’s when the tough, like my mother, really get going.