Not Quite Like Granddad
I was just thinking of some stories about my Grandfather Thomas Edson Beck. Yes. I was named after him and my Grandfather Ray Miner. I can remember the story of my Grandfather Beck having a toothache so severe that he actually took care of the pain himself. No, he didn’t extract it, he heated and bent the “rat tail” end of a rasp file over into a 90 degree L shape, then reheated it into a red hot weapon of self-destruction and burned the nerve out of the decayed tooth. I’ve not done anything to match that, but I do have most of my dental work done without anesthesia. I prefer to feel a bit of discomfort than to have the feeling of a fat lip in my lap for hours.
When my Granddad was 21 years of age, a logging accident broke his leg severely enough for the doctors to operate and insert a plate and screws. He still had the bill from the hospital. I can’t remember the exact cost, but it was less than fifty dollars. The plate and screws stayed in place until he was in his nineties and a screw loosened. The doctors removed the screw and plate from his leg. He would readily show the hardware preserved in a medicine bottle teasing that is was an antique.
On the other hand as a teen, I developed a cellulitis from and older injury and a re-injury. I was stuck in the hospital for nearly a week getting penicillin injections in my tusch. As a teen I hated being “confined” for a week, writing notes on my lunch tray begging to be released.
Granddad Beck developed a shingles virus that covered his head and forehead on one side. Shingles is noted for following the nerve pathway on half the affected area. The doctors said that he was fortunate that it hadn’t infected his eye, because the pain would have been nearly unbearable. The virus surrounded his “god eye.” He had been blind in one eye for many years.
On the other hand, my case of shingles was on my left side near the bottom of my rib cage. The crusty eruptions made moving and breathing painful, but I am sure that my Granddad’s pain was more severe.
My Granddad was on a ladder cleaning the gutters on the three story side on his house when he was eighty years old. Me. my kids throw a fit when I get onto my two story roof to clean my chimney, but then, I’m not my Grandpa.