Yesterday my 7 year old grandson, Aidan, had his adenoids removed. The Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist was sure this would help with the constant ear infections and fluid behind Aidan's ear drums. So bright and early Thursday morning Aidan was taken to the hospital for surgery. Everyone was in their paper gowns, in a sterile environment, with a anesthesia specialist to put him "under" and his vital signs were being monitored. It is something we expect with any surgery in 2oo9.
I don't often think of myself as "old", although there are times that I have a major reality check. Do I really sound like my grandmother now? Or anyone else from that generation? I used to worry that I sounded like my mother when I would tell my children something that she would have told me. And yet, I am telling a story to my daughter, Trisha, about something that happened to me over 50 years ago, she had a look of total disbelief on her face.
It begins with me saying to Trisha, "you know I had my tonsils and adenoids removed when I was Aidan's age." Not a shocking statement. What was shocking to my daughter was this part.
It wasn't uncommon 50 years ago (or more) to have the family Doctor make house calls. Dr. Runion had been aware of my constant colds and ear infections and decided surgery was necessary and so it was planned. He came to our home, opened a suitcase that became a table and he was ready to perform the surgery, right there in our kitchen! No paper gowns, hopefully he used sterile instruments, my anesthesia was a cloth soaked in ether. Dr. Runion wasn't a specialist of the ear, nose and throat, nor was he an anesthesiologist. There were no machines monitoring my vitals, but my surgery was done by a Doctor that made house calls. When I woke up in my own bed, it was over and my throat hurt. I remember getting to eat ice cream, and not much else. To this day I can't stand the smell of ether.