A childhood memory.

As I sit and listen to the CNN reporters and lawyers give the ‘play by play’ of Trump’s Trial on Hush Money and Falsified Documents to cover it up, I thought I’d go back in time again. As I did in my last post, I will write a little about a childhood memory.

I am closer to 70 then 60 years old now – which I truly can’t believe. All of my adults years (so far!) I have remained very healthy and I know it has not been due to anything specific that I have DONE, but more that I have some good genes and have lived with enough education to know what is good for my body. In general, moderation in life may be considered ‘safe’ and even boring, but moderation in eating and in exercise has done me well.

Up to this point, as an adult I have only been admitted in to the hospital twice. They were for both of my daughters’ births. Both were c-sections. The first one came as a surprise when my doctor realized at the last minute that my baby was in a breech position. She was ‘butt first’ and could not get herself down the birth canal. My second c-section was planned because my doctor said it was my choice, and ‘V-backs” (vaginal birth after a cesarean) were not always successful.

This post is about my only other hospital stay, when I was 10 years old. Leading up to it my mother had noticed a bump on my right leg, below my knee. It looked to be the size of half of an egg sitting under the skin. As I recall, the doctor did not do a needle biopsy, and he felt it would be best to do surgery to remove it, and then send some cells off to the lab for a diagnosis. Thinking back on it now I’m sure my parents were concerned about what the bump was. I had not injured my leg. I did not have pain from it. So, perhaps cancer was a concern. If so, they kept it to themselves. My surgery was successful. I had 27 stitches in a large S shape below my knee. The procedure took place at “Babies and Children’s Hospital” in Cleveland, Ohio.

I remember sharing a hospital room with a younger girl. I want to say she was 7 years old, and she had had heart surgery. I think she had been there recovering before I arrived, before I became her roommate. She seemed to be doing okay. Thankfully. I stayed in the hospital for a few days. I remember I had to show the doctor that I was able to move my leg and that I could get up and down, and move myself around. I used my left leg under my bandaged right leg to lift it and get around. I went home on crutches.

Once home my mother set me up on our back screened porch. As a ten year old girl I recovered quickly and I remember liking some of the special attention I was getting.

The biopsy showed no cancer. It was called a calcium deposit. I don’t know why I got it. I didn’t ever get one anywhere else on my body. I healed and was able to go on my merry way.

One lasting effect from the surgery and healing was that my right leg is now an inch or two longer than my left leg. The doctor said because I was a kid and I was growing, my cells worked overtime on that leg. Ha! There have been times that I feel like it has given me some mild back pain and pulls. And, I am aware that I tend to stand on my shorter leg.

My scar remains on my leg. Even after decades it is still quite visible.

My surgery was in the summer of 1966.

I was fortunate to have a good experience and outcome.

I am fortunate now to have these as my only hospital stays. But, as I age on I know I may end up there again sometime. God bless all those in hospitals who care for children to old people with their medical knowledge and lots of tender loving care.