Recently, I came down with a little cold. Sorry to disappoint, but it was not COVID. I realized as I started to feel bad that no one was going to take care of me. My healing was going to be all on my own. At this point, I felt sad because I really miss my mom.
I remember, back in the old days, when I was a kid and got sick, my mom took care of me. My mom wasn't a doctor, she had a college degree but, no proper medical training under her belt.
It's funny to think back about the illnesses that I had as a child: the flu and the common cold (both viruses). And my mom, a nonmedical professional, taking care of me and helping me overcome these illnesses. She didn't have all of the modern technology, access to medicine or shots. Her medical bag was limited and consisted of a thermometer, aspirin (baby aspirin, in my case), Vick's vapor rub, hot or cold wet towel, blankets, humidifier, hot water bottle, heating pad, a bucket and, of course, saltines and 7UP.
It's amazing to think back to those times and realize that I survived. My mom did not call the doctor to discuss my symptoms (well, I'm also the third child, so...). She knew that it was a virus and let it run its course. She made me comfortable during the process and, I lived to talk (and write) about it.
Anyone else have bad flashbacks to those Vick's Vapor Rub days?
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