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Happy mother’s day, mom



Jeff Koterba EDITORIAL CARTOON for may 6th 2008 graduation car
It’s Mother’s Day, so it is only fitting to reflect on my own mom.

When I think of my mom, a single, striking image always intrudes: her coming home from work, late in the day in her nurse’s uniform.

Because my mom was a nurse I was introduced to the medical field at a very young age. The doctors she worked with were, for me anyway, just regular Joes doing a job. They treated me well and, also because my mom was a nurse, I was  fortunate to be able to have what would be termed today as “instant access” to medical care.

For example, when I was very young my tonsils decided to revolt. They conducted a fairly punitive and brutal insurgency against my body on a regular basis. I’m told by my mom that I would run these very high temperatures because of the tonsil insurgency and would be sick for days.

I don’t remember much about this time period, other than I would be fine, and then all of the sudden I was laying on a couch with cold towels over my head and on my chest.

Then the doctor would arrive at our home. At the time my mom worked for a doctor named David Allen. He would arrive at our house (with his black bag, believe it or not) and do an examination right there. My mom would hover or me and then they would step back and discuss my condition in medical terms that I did not understand.

Then I would sometimes get a prescription to treat the infection. Sometimes, though, I would not be prescribed anything, other than plenty of fluids and normal stuff to fight the fever.

Eventually my mother and father made the decision to have my tonsils removed. That was good, in a way, because I able to eat ice cream bars for several days. So it all kind of worked out and was a win-win for a 6-year-old.

I knew a lot of doctors and spent a lot of time around the medical clinic where my mom worked for Allen. I got to know nurses and other medical professionals and was able to see them as human beings, doing a tough job and working long hours. Back then, too, the medical field was not as lucrative as it is now. I don’t know for sure what my mom made as a nurse back then, but it was nowhere near what nurses make now.

The other item I recall vividly was the way my mom’s friends would utilize (bug) her regarding medical issues.

They would call her up and describe symptoms and ask for advice. My mom would tell them what she thought and then urge them to see a doctor. I’m an RN, not a medical doctor she would say. They didn’t want to go to a doctor, I’m sure because of the cost, and wanted my mom to give them sort of a medical free ride. She wouldn’t play ball though. She knew her job well enough to know the real deal.  I never heard her complain about it, but it must have been irritating.

The other issue that I realized about my mom was she deserved a lot of credit, not only because she was an RN but because of our family situation.

She was the only female in a household of six men. My dad and five sons. And, for a long time, one bathroom. I don’t think I need to paint a picture of that situation.  My mom raised five sons and closed out a successful career as an RN.

She did a lot for us and still does, and she never received the credit she deserved. I’m not sure any mom does. We take them for granted a lot of the time, expect certain things, and then get on in life and forget.

That’s why this day is so important. So we can stop for a moment and reflect on just how special, how big a role they play, in our lives.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

Pat Caldwell is the editor of the Argus Observer. He can be contacted at PatC@argusobserver.com




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