Sunday, February 15, 2009

The Cobbler's Children

Medical care is not always easy to get, even if you live in a doctor's house. However, the tradition of makeshift medicine began a generation earlier, back at the Holly's. Young Vertrees (TGP) used to like the way the cut ends of the tobacco looked as they were hanging upside down in the barn curing. He jumped up to see them and missed the 4x4 rail on the way down. His chin hit a rail, and his lower teeth came through his lower lip.

After a lot of noise, Denzil (my grandfather) was summoned. He attempted to remove the lip from the teeth with the aid of the best tool he had available, a kitchen fork. When that didn't work, they went to the doctor. As the MD was working, he said something to the effect of it appearing that someone had been tugging at the lower lip with a fork. TGP tried to explain that that was exactly what had happened, but couldn't be understood, as he still had teeth sticking through his lower lip.

One beautiful summer day at Spindletop, I was playing on a variant of a see-saw they have there. I kicked my bare foot forward and it dug down underneath a metal handle bar, slamming the left big toe into the metal. It split asunder immediately. Eventually we got home and TGP examined it. The usual rule for pain among the children was that there had to be blood or bone visible, or it had to hurt for two weeks before it warranted attention. This fit in the blood category, so I didn't have to wait. Surveying the damage, TGP when down to the tool chest in the basement. As he came up with the needle nose pliers, Sophia remembers him saying "Oh, this isn't going to be good for Eben". I remember the painful shots of anesthetic, the the removal of the separated top and bottom half of my big toe nail. It really hurt. It hurt at school when someone stepped on it. It hurt for weeks.

Years later, in Charleston, Dunn returned from a game of Bladderball
with the youth group. He came through the first floor in Charleston where I was holding court with Mary Anne, holding his jaw up with his hands, and said "Pleez have Pha check on me when he gets in". After several hours, Dunn got X-rayed to find that he had broken his jaw. Herself passed out at the hospital the next day looking at the X-rays. After several weeks with a jaw wired shut, Dunn was good as new.

I still discount whatever gets hurt. At least we don't panic easily.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I remember a broken arm "hanging" around for the requisite two weeks. What's really scary is when Father now says "go to the doctor NOW." I'm always afraid I'm already dead.