things you can't help but remember

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Random Reminiscences, or Some Things That Have Improved Since the 1980s

Carla and I have had such an exciting week (no). Yesterday, for instance, we went to the dentist and the library AND the thrift store (to drop off donations, not to look for anything fun), and then we waited for someone from the security company to arrive (he came an hour early) and for someone from the roofing company to arrive (he came an hour and twenty minutes late). 

But the dentist visit and the library visit, at least, gave me a chance to indulge in a little nostalgia. 

Carla, by the way, is so much better about the dentist than she used to be. It was once a source of tremendous anxiety. I can empathize with this, because I too get extremely anxious when I go to the dentist. (Sidebar: I recently was having some tooth pain that was severe enough I was afraid I would need another root canal. And my biggest fear about seeking treatment was not the root canal itself, but the fear of enduring the cold test that they use to diagnose the issue. That was the worst pain I have ever endured, and I was shaking and teary just thinking about the possibility of facing it again. I wondered if I could just… get a root canal without the diagnostic test [probably not]. Anyway, the happy but also deeply disturbing outcome was that I somehow had a piece of aluminum foil stuck in between my teeth that was causing the pain. Once I figured that out, the pain miraculously evaporated. I can figure out how to avoid the cold test another time, huzzah.) The hygienist used to have to wheedle and finagle Carla into doing anything. Brushing her teeth with the weird gritty polish was always A Process that involved lots of negotiation and Mean Mommy Voice. She actively and vehemently resisted the fluoride application, thrashing around and refusing to open her mouth. Our hygienist really got a workout, back in those days.

But! Now Carla is very nonchalant about the whole thing. I asked her in the car if she wanted me to walk her through what to expect, and she said yes. Then she decided in advance which kind of tooth polish she would prefer (grape, or mint) (she ended up choosing cookie dough; gag me). Then I told her that if fluoride was an option, we were going to do it. She still hates the fluoride. 

The thing is, fluoride treatment is so infinitely better than it used to be! She has it so easy! The hygienist gets out a teeny little tub of fluoride (seriously, there must be 1/2 teaspoon in there IF THAT) (and each tiny tub costs $40 out of pocket; our dental insurance – which we are extremely lucky to have, I know! – only covers one fluoride treatment a year, even though our dentist recommends it every six months) and paints it on her teeth and she’s good to go! The only restriction is she can’t drink hot liquids for an hour. That’s it!

When I was a kid, the fluoride treatment was a nightmare. The hygienist gave me a teeny cup full of caustic red liquid and I had to put ALL of it into my mouth and swish it around for a full minute. A full minute is like a million years when you are six or ten or however old I was! And the hygienist always cautioned me to not swallow any. I am a rule follower and also a catastrophizer, so I imagined that swallowing even a teeny amount would kill me. I hated it so much! 

Image from Reddit. Apparently some schools offered fluoride to students??? Did this happen in your school? I only ever got fluoride at the dentist.

There was a fluoride innovation at some point in my youth. Instead of the swishing liquid, my hygienist started carrying a fluoride foam. She would put the foam into the channels of a two-sided flimsy foam U, and I had to bite down on the U so that my teeth would be submerged in foam. Then I had to hold it there, not swallowing for a full minute. This was slightly better because the foam was sweet instead of caustic. But the foam would get all over my face, and by the end of the minute it would be dripping down my chin. Plus, once again I was afraid that even swallowing a teeny amount would result in my immediate death. 

Image once again from Reddit. I can practically taste the fake cherry flavor.

Fluoride treatments were the worst! And my parents had no sympathy for me, just as I have no sympathy for Carla. Because I know how it used to be.

(I mean, I have a little sympathy for her. I know it’s bitter and sticky and annoying. But I’m not going to let her skip it, as she pleads for me to do every six months.)

After the dentist, we went to the library. There was a mesh box on a desk in the kids’ section with three monarch caterpillars in various stages of development in it, and another mesh box on a separate table with a real-live chrysalis in it. Next to the second box was a display of books about bugs and butterflies. 

Libraries are AWESOME. I just love that the librarians, or someone high up in the library admin, think about how to engage young minds and make learning fun and interesting. 

Libraries, in my experience, are a whole lot better than they used to be. And to be fair, my library was the only one in my entire hometown, and my hometown was at least half an hour away from any other town. Where I live now, we have dozens of libraries that are nearby and easy to access. I patronize three regularly. (We are going to have a NEW library and NEW library system when we move, and my husband and I took Carla to check out the library early on in our house hunt to make sure that it was acceptable. Also, we looked into whether we could keep our existing library cards – yes – because we adore our library system.) 

There are special displays set up by the librarians – book club picks, books on rotating themes (gardening, DIY, cooking international recipes), books about whatever holiday is coming up, books by famous authors who have recently celebrated a birthday, received an award, or passed away. There are rows and rows of computers. There are glass-walled rooms furnished with tables and computer hookups that you can reserve online for your homework session or writing group. There are innumerable classes you can take and activities you can attend – all for free. The librarians are friendly and knowledgeable and you (Carla) can ask them for recommendations fitting very specific criteria and they will walk you through the stacks and pull out multiple options and reserve several more for you online. You can pre-order books and come inside to pick them up or get them through the drive-up window. There are always crafts you can take home and reading contests you can participate in. 

When I was kid, you had to whisper in the library. If you didn’t, you would suffer the wrath of the librarian. The librarian was also deeply disapproving of the number of books I checked out each week – although perhaps, in hindsight, my lack of proper book transportation device may have been the subject of her disapproval. I tended to leave with a teetering stack of books in my bare hands. 

My local library took up both floors of a two-story building. It had stacks of books. It had a space for reading periodicals. It had an elevator. You could look things up in the card catalog, and you could research old periodicals on the microfiche machine. There may have been a computer or three. It had a lot to offer. But I don’t remember special displays or targeted groupings of books, or librarians who smiled and told you about monarchs. I do remember that if you read a certain number of books, you could win a free pizza from Pizza Hut… but I think that was a program run through my elementary school, and not the library. (Ah, yes. It was called Book It! and it is still active today!)

Image from @LibbyApp on whatever it is we’re calling Twitter these days.

(Another sidebar: I wonder if my love for things like pizza and tacos originated with school reward systems? In addition to Book It!, there were frequently pizza parties we could win for various things that have escaped my memory. The pizza party part was the important part, not whatever it was we had to do to earn it. In high school, people on the honor roll got to go to lunch early, and on Fridays we had Pizza Hut pizza. I loved being one of the very first kids in line to get the pizza while it was hot and the cheese was melty. YUM. But even better than pizza: We could get a free taco for every A on our report card. Is there any better incentive? NOT FOR ME THERE ISN’T. My mom saved all my report cards in my baby book and it tickles me to see the little stamps from the taco place on each A to indicate I’d collected my free tacos.)

I’m not saying that Today’s World is perfect; I know it has deep and terrifying flaws. But in lots of ways, big and tiny, important and inconsequential, my kid has it really, really good. I try not to “back in my day” her very often, but some things are much better these days. Although I do feel bad that she doesn’t get free pizza and tacos in exchange for her grades.

Do you remember fluoride treatments from when you were a kid? Did you have any food-based rewards systems when you were growing up? What is something that makes you think kids these days have it a lot easier than you did?

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Helpful Hints for a Medical Emergency

I have this persistent feeling in my left foot that there’s something caught between my toes, or maybe there’s a hair wrapped around my second toe. I have checked; there is nothing between my toes, no hairs in the vicinity (although of course I had to remove a hair that was draped casually over my shoulder as I was looking). And even if there were something caught between them, I would have expected it to dislodge itself over the course of two weeks, which is how long I’ve had this feeling. 

(I’ve looked it up. The closest “diagnosis” Google has to offer is a Morton’s neuroma, which is a thickening of the tissue around the nerves of the foot. But the symptoms don’t quite line up. Neuromas cause a feeling of “sock bunching” or “small pebble” but usually between the third and fourth toes.)

Anyway, I have this niggling memory that the feeling “there’s a hair wrapped around your toe” is Something To Watch For. I don’t find anything, upon Googling. Although I did find some articles about how critical it is to remove an actual hair that is wrapped around any appendage, as it can cut off circulation. But it’s somehow stuck in my head as one of those things that you listen for, and if you hear it, it Means Something. Something that would be important for medical staff to know in an emergency.

Based on no evidence at all, I like to think I would be good in an emergency. I have had the incredible amazing luck of not having been faced with an emergency of any sort. But I want to be READY. Which is why I have stowed a few little helpful medical hints away for future emergency use. 

Do you have any of those “medical hints” that you’ve come across somewhere and never forgotten?

After reading Hatchet by Gary Paulsen a million years ago, I am constantly on high alert for people who have arm pain followed by gas. CLEARLY that is a heart attack just waiting to happen. (I can never remember which arm the pain will be in, though.) (Apparently, it is usually the left arm.)

And I read at some point that A Feeling of Impending Doom is a medical clue you should never ignore. (You could have the bubonic plague! Or, more likely, although you never know these days, anaphylaxis! Or a pulmonary embolism! Or a bad reaction to a blood transfusion!) Unfortunately, I am filled with doom so often it seems like it might be hard to separate that feeling from the one that means, like, imminent death. But it’s a medical clue that’s forever lodged in my brain, just ready for me to leap into action the next time someone nearby sits down heavily and says, “Oh no, I’m filled with doom.” 

I seem to fuzzily recall that there’s an acronym you can use to tell if someone is having a stroke. But I can’t remember the acronym itself. Oh here it is: FAST, which stands for Face, Arms, Speech, and Time, which themselves are shorthand for facial drooping, arm weakness, speech difficulties and… time, which I guess means if you notice any of these things it’s time to get help? Oh – and here are some other sites that say you should really be using the acronym BE FAST, and also be alert for Balance and Eyes (trouble with balance/coordination and sudden blurring or loss of vision). Now, in a possible-stroke type situation, I will be sure to forget not one but two life-saving acronyms.

I read/heard once that singing the Bee Gees’s “Staying Alive” when giving chest compressions during CPR will help you keep the appropriate life-saving rhythm. (The video I linked to made me unreasonably giggly. All those very serious dancers!) (Also, I suspect – based on previous experience of watching CPR scenes on TV/in movies – my husband would say that you need to be more forceful and less elbow-bendy than this particular video demonstrator.) 

This little rhyme may someday come in handy, although I sincerely hope not: “If it’s black, fight back. If it’s brown, lie down. If it’s white, good night.” But that’s more in case of bears than in a medical emergency. I do appreciate the absolute surrender of the last couplet, though. Don’t even try, you’re dead already. 

What helpful medical hints do you have stored away in case of an emergency? And have you ever had to put them to use? And, if so, did they WORK?