The Fish Hook

My Grandpa Johnson immigrated from Sweden just before he turned 21 years old.  He planned to go to medical school, but soon after he reached America he caught rheumatic fever and was sick for almost a year.  Once he got well he had to find work to pay off his medical bills, and never was able to realize his dream of becoming a doctor.  His dream lived on in the members of his family, though.  His oldest son became an orthopedic surgeon and many of his grandchildren and great grandchildren are doctors, nurses, or work in the medical profession.

None of the kids in my family went into medicine, we mostly became teachers, but two of my brother's-in-law are doctors, and we did our part for the medical profession by providing work for the doctors we knew.

Both Keith and I had to have our tonsils out when we were little.  (That was actually kind of fun because we could eat all the ice cream we wanted.)  I broke my collar bone when I was two.  Keith had rheumatic fever and was sick on and off for years when he was small.  Phillip had a seizure once when he was a little baby, probably brought on by the heat, and when he was a little older he drank a whole bottle of 'Blue Medicine' (that's what we called the antihistamine Mom always had to have on hand to give Keith when his allergies got bad) but the doctor assured her Phillip would be OK, just very sleepy.  Linda ended up in the hospital with pneumonia, and again with some sort of stomach trouble, and.then there were the little things that always happen to kids, like the time Keith got a fish hook stuck in his hand when we were up at the cabin.

  The hook was stuck in good, and because of the barbs Dad couldn’t get it out.  Dad's brother, Uncle Ray, was up at the cabin visiting us that weekend, but he was out hiking somewhere when Keith got hurt.  Mom and Dad didn't know what else to do, so they put Keith in the truck and drove around until they found Uncle Ray.  Keith was about five years old, and he was pretty good about the whole thing.  He just sat in the truck and looked at his little hand with the hook stuck in it as he bounced over the dirt road, not crying or complaining, just staring.  I suppose seeing a metal hook sticking into his skin must have been kind of fascinating to a little boy who was used to sticking worms on the shiny metal.  When they finally found Uncle Ray he knew exactly what to do.  He simply took a knife and cut the hook out.   I wonder why Mom and Dad hadn't thought of doing that?  Anyway, they had a lot more faith in Uncle Ray doing the operation instead of them.  After all, he had a medical degree and a Doctors certificate hanging on the wall in his office, although Keith was not the kind of patient he usually operated on.  You see, Uncle Ray was a veterinarian.