Dewey Street Days Health and Happiness

Dewey Street Days
Health and Happiness

In writing about my sisters, I remembered an episode that reminded me of the state of medicine and health during my childhood years.

The incident involved Gen and my case of tonsillitis. I was very young, probably about seven, when the problem arose. It was quite a mystifying event. The only thing I was sure of, at least from what the neighborhood kids told me, was that you got to eat ice cream afterwards. I guess it was both a reward and a soothing treatment, but all I was interested in was a chance to eat ice cream.

After being told that I would be going to Dr. Frank Polito, who had delivered me at Charlotte Hungerford Hospital (I was the only one of the family to be so honored), Gen got the task of taking me to him for the operation. No, she wouldn't be accompanying me to the hospital. In those days, around 1938, they removed tonsils at the doctor's office. It made no difference to me, being young, naive, and trusting of adults and doctors.

Another exciting aspect was that we would take a taxi home. I had never ridden in a taxi and anticipated that it would be quite an adventure. Dr. Polito's office was upstairs in a building somewhere between the Torrington Library and the stores on the bridge over the Naugatuck River on Main Street. I'm not sure whether we walked down from Wolcott Avenue, which would not have been unusual, or if we had gotten a ride from someone, which my hazy recollection favors.

I do remember that Dr. Polito and his nurse were friendly and talked with me as I lay on the table and was prepared for the operation. He told me they were going to put a mask over my nose, drop ether on it, and then he wanted me to start counting from one. I don't remember how far I got, but I can remember seeing a spinning yellow spiral of light and hearing a buzzing sound along with the doctor’s and nurse’s voices until losing consciousness.

When I awoke, a smiling Gen was there with Dr. Polito, who told me to take it easy and lie there for a while. He cautioned me to rest when I got home, and said that I might vomit as an effect of the ether. A few minutes later it happened, and I began to worry that it might happen again in the cab on the way home. Fortunately it didn't, and part of the reason was that my mind was diverted by the praise given and concern shown to me by all who were there. It flowed from Gen, the doctor and nurse in the office through to the cab driver, who opened the door and helped me in and out of the car.

Gen put me to bed, where I soon dozed off. The next thing I remember is hearing someone calling, "Sonny, Sonny!" Upon waking it was still daylight, and I saw Gen again smiling and holding up a luscious-looking ice cream cone. This succeeded in fully diverting my thoughts from the unpleasant event of the morning to fully enjoying the taste and the pleasant cooling effect on my throat of that wonderful vanilla ice cream.

This treat was not easily provided. All we had was an icebox that could keep food cool, but not frozen. So Gen had to make a trip up the street to Schwaller & McLaughlin's store to make the purchase.

Little wonder that I would develop a deep affection for my sisters!