Anyone who follows my blogs knows that my paternal grandmother, Minnie Bell Little was illiterate. It bothered her that she was unable to read or write but she nonetheless possessed a world of folk knowledge and good sense in her head. She cooked without recipes, knowing exactly how much of this and that to measure to create the most wonderful dishes. She was able to identify birds, animals and plants and speak of their habitats and habits with authority. She understood the natural world around her through observation and practice.
One of the things that she had noticed is the connection between family members and their health problems. For that reason she warned me when I was only a child of the importance of knowing that “all of our kin die from gut troubles.” She had seen relatives writhing in pain on their deathbeds no doubt from gastrointestinal problems. She noted that members of her family seemed to have chronic heartburn and an affinity for drinking vinegar.
While such meanderings sometimes stunned me when I heard my grandmother mentioning them, I never forgot how earnestly she wanted me to know about them. It was not too surprising when she was diagnosed with colon cancer that required a colostomy and ultimately was the very thing that killed her. Years later when eating became difficult for me and heartburn blighted my days, I found myself telling my doctor what my grandmother had revealed to me. He applauded her intelligence in understanding the connections that we have with our ancestors in medical issues.
I was diagnosed with GERD and given a prescription that mostly keeps my acid reflux under control. Now again I have an horrific flareup that awakens me in the middle of the night with excruciating pain. I have learned the value of ingesting apple cider vinegar as a quick fix that eliminates the horrific sensation that someone has poured battery acid down my throat. I think of my Grandma Minnie Bell each time this kind of thing happens.
The origins of our individual health issues can so often be traced to some kind of familial trait. The members of my mother’s family had a preponderance of heart disease and so too did she. That trendecy has not affected me but the prevalence of osteoporosis in all three of my aunts has followed me and my bones. I have kept the worst aspects of that disorder under semi-control with medications, exercise and biannual injections. My hope is that I will be able to avoid becoming wheelchair bound as they eventually were. Ironically my mother never developed the problem but those genes most assuredly jumped over to me.
Grandma Minnie had a noticeable hump in her back and not so surprisingly so do I. Perhaps if people had paid closer attention to family medical histories someone would have been watching to see if I would develop scoliosis which I now know that I have. When I was younger my mother was unaware of such things so she was always telling me to stand up straight. I kept insisting that I was standing as best I was able. She had me loop my arms around a broomstick hoping that walking around in that manner would realign the curvature in my back. Nowadays school nurses check for such things and children’s back are corrected which will save them from a lifetime of back pain.
My father died in a car accident but I suspect that if he had lived his ultimate demise might have been like that of his mother. At the age of thirty three he was already having pronounced trouble with his gut. In fact he had joined the army during World War Ii but he did not last long. He developed ulcers so severe spent most of his time in the hospital. As a child I remember him being admitted the the VA hospital multiple times with digestive difficulties and pain that had continued into his twenties and thirties.
My primary care physician has always been keenly aware of the connections between one person’s health and the family history of various ailments and diseases. I had to fill out a lengthy document outlining everything that every medical condition that my parents had and that my brothers have endured. So far the things his diagnoses of me seem to branch from Grandma Minnie Bell’s side of the family tree. I find that somehow appropriate given that she seemed so sure that I was much like her when I was still not quite ten.
Our family’s medical mystery lies with my brothers who have both been recently diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. None of my four grandparents or their children had this but a cousin on my mother’s side of the family was diagnosed with this fairly early in his life and ultimately died from it in his eighties. If there is indeed a genetic connection it has to be from somewhere in my mother’s family but I suppose that we will never know for sure.
Being a medical detective is so interesting to me. At one time I considered becoming a nurse or a doctor but ultimately felt called to be a teacher. Now I spend a great deal of time studying human anatomy and the diseases that attack us. I keep my ultimate care with my doctors and follow their learned advice because I want the advice of learned professionals, not pseudoscience determining my fate. Still, I sometimes think back to my grandmother and feel a sense of awe that she was so smart to warn me of what might come in my future. So far she has kept me feeling better than I might otherwise have been because my doctors have heard what she predicted and used it to chart a medical plan built just for me. I think that would make Grandma quite happy.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 