Thankful mom is healing

Last Wednesday was a wonderful day. I met Mom at the doctor’s office. Her transportation was provided by the senior citizens’ van, thus saving me at least an hour and a half of travel time. I was told the appointment was to remove the line used to deliver her intravenous antibiotics. I was expecting that there would be some kind of problem. Thankfully that was not the case.
The line was removed easily, in fact, she didn’t even feel it. A few minutes later the doctor hobbled into the room. He said he had an accident involving a mailbox and some ice. Apparently the mailbox won. He examined her foot and pronounced the bone infection to be cured. Relief flooded my body. No more antibiotics. No more visiting nurses every single day. More importantly, no more talk of possible amputation. Healed. That has to be the second best word in the dictionary. The first is, of course, the word, ‘benign.’ Thank goodness that was over. I was on cloud nine.
We stopped by the laboratory for a blood test to confirm the doctor’s verdict. We go back on Valentine’s Day to get the results of that test and to make sure nothing else needs attention.
One of the miracle drugs that made my happiness possible came into being a year after I was born. A guy by the name of Edmund Komfeld was working for Eli Lilly. He was given a soil sample from Borneo. It had been collected by a missionary whose name wasn’t in the article I read. Komfeld developed an antibiotic from his work with this sample. Many years later my mom’s foot was saved as a result.
It boggles my mind to realize that dirt from a far away country resulted in a feeling of pure giddiness at hearing that my mom gets to keep all her toes. What possessed these people, who are surely all dead by now, to think that a soil sample would hold the cure for a condition they had never heard of? Were the local people using this material as a remedy for their ills? I may never know.
The earliest written records that mention medical treatments are on clay tablets produced in Mesopotamia and Egypt. These tablets are said to have been written around 2,500 B.C. Think about it, that is close to 5,000 years ago. You know people were treating illnesses and injuries long before somebody started scribbling on clay tablets.
Ancient healers were well versed in which plants and substances could be used to facilitate healing. Before writing was invented, this knowledge was passed orally from teacher to student. Many of the medicines we use today evolved from those ancient practices.
I am so grateful for the folklore that has been distilled into the miracle drugs that saved my mother’s foot. All the prescriptions that enable her to live her life as best she can originally came from plants and procedures developed throughout the centuries. There are so many people who have gone before who have enabled us all to enjoy the benefits of modern medicine.
I am also thankful that the weather decided to be nice that day. The snow swirled and skated across the road all the way home. When I was told of the appointment, I was concerned. January in Indiana is not known for beautiful weather. Ice and snow seem to be the norm. This year, the wind has formed an alliance with the snow to render many roads impassable. If we had delayed her appointment a few days the trip home wouldn’t have been nearly as easy.
Now we can concentrate on getting through the rest of this winter without freezing to death. Keeping the driveway clear has become a full-time job. As soon as all the snow has been shoveled to the side, the wind rearranges it into lovely drifts that keep the car safely in the driveway.
But the cold and wind can’t dampen my joy at knowing that my mom can keep all her toes. Healed is a beautiful word.

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