Farm Remedies
Joan Adams Burchell
(copyright)
As promised, I will try to bring to life what
happened on the farm when there was a medical emergency and doctors
were miles away. This is the story of four home remedies that
I learned during my summers.
When I was about seven, another city-cousin
had come along to the farm for a short holiday. She was four years
old, and, the baby at the farm was only two. My cousin Jimmie
was the same age as me. I won't mention the older cousins because
this first story didn't apply to them.
In the city, when we had a communicable
disease, remember - we were quarantined. It was so wonderful on
the farm, if we weren't too ill, we were not confined and there
were one hundred and twenty-five acres to roam.
This particular summer, we four younger
ones came down with whooping cough (no vaccine back then). Jim
and I weren't really sick - just had the cough, but baby June
and Barbara were very very ill. My aunt was having difficulty
getting the two little ones to take their medicine and since Barbara
felt a little closer to me, I guess, is why my aunt told me that
if I would take some just once and put on a brave face, it might
make it easier for the wee ones; she said I didn't really need
it and promised it was just one time. Jim didn't need any, either,
and thought it was a great joke on me that I was the 'example'.
I took my big dose of the home-remedy, swallowing it really quickly,
careful not to make a face which was not an easy task. (It wasn't
a spoon, though; it was a small glass.) The little cousins then
took theirs and, strangely enough, didn't seem to mind it. What
was this miraculous potion that lessened the severity of the whooping
cough and all of its complications for my wee cousins? Ask the
horse - she gave her mare's milk for a good cause.
***
The second story is really tough medicine.
Coming home from berry-picking one day, and climbing over a fence,
my older cousin Frances stepped on a rusty nail. It went through
the sole of her shoe and right out through the top, going right
through her foot. She screamed and turned so white as she fell
to the ground. Her older sister and Jimmie (he was pretty strong)
made a seat with their arms, hands clasped and carried her as
I ran ahead, as fast as I could, the long distance to the house
to tell my aunt. She heard me hollering and met me as I sputtered
out what had happened.
We went into the house where my aunt quickly
prepared a basin of pure alcohol. When Fran was carried in, her
foot was put into the basin. She, of course, fainted with the
pain and then the nail was pulled out, the shoe removed and the
foot well-soaked and bandaged.
I had a taste of that, too, when Jimmie
was pulling me in his wagon on the gravel drive and turned too
sharply and I fell out. The gravel was embedded into my bleeding
elbow and I was held down while my elbow was put into the dreaded
basin of alcohol. I passed out quicker than you could say "jack
rabbit" but not before I had done a lot of kicking and screaming
when I saw the basin.
It was tough medicine but necessary, in
their eyes I guess, to prevent tetanus or severe infection. Again,
no vaccines or antibiotics. We've come a long way!
***
The third remedy was one that I did not
know about until we were all picking berries away back at the
far corner of the farm; a bee went up the leg of my cousin's slacks.
It was cornered so stung her. She dropped her whole ten-pound
honey pail of berries and yelled blue murder, all the time pulling
off her slacks and underwear. My little eyes grew bigger, wondering
what she was doing, when she sat down in a mud puddle. Grandma
had taught them that a mud poultice was the best thing to relieve
a sting. Funny what you remember.
***
When I was just three years old and had
a nap in the afternoons, one day my aunt allowed me to rest on
my uncle's couch in the kitchen as it was a very hot day. I fell
asleep, but, during sleep rolled over, off the couch, and hit
my head on the rockers of my grandma's rocking chair. Apparently
I was unconscious and my aunt's first thought was water. I was
told that she swooped me up and put me under the pump at the kitchen
sink and pumped full force. I was face-up and came 'to' coughing,
spluttering, choking, and terrified.
I remember the last part of that incident
and often believe it is the reason that I have never learned to
swim. That may not be fair, though, because it was the days when
polio ran rampant and mothers were warned to keep their children
away from the city pools. I am afraid of the water - but I am
alive! ~Joan Adams Burchell ~ (copyright)
***
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