FOR MOST OF THE CENTURY: SOMETIMES IT TOOK MORE THAN ASPIRIN (PART 43)

Jean Bell Mosley's new autobiography, "For Most of the Century," is only available in serialized form in the Southeast Missourian. Return each week for her continuing story.

1970-1980

The sixties were "book-ended" with physical distress for me. My first bout with major surgery came at the beginning of the decade. While bathing, one day, I discovered a lump on one side of my throat. It was a sudden discovery and scary. How had I missed it?

Heretofore, aspirin, turpentine, Vicks and rosebud salve and seemingly outrageous poultices had cured almost all my ailments, but I was pretty sure this lump couldn't be dissolved by aspirin.

It was late afternoon when I found the lump, so I didn't get to Dr. Garland Reynolds' office until the next day. "It's got to come out," he pronounced. In less than four days it was out along with half of my thyroid gland.

"Non-malignant," I heard the nurse say as I was beginning to wake up from the anesthesia. Sweet words those, non-malignant.

After initial recovery, the surgeon, Dr. Frank Hall, prescribed thyroid medication to make up for the missing half gland. It made me grind my teeth and, as the cliche goes, "climb the wall."

After several experimental diminishing doses, it was decided I didn't need any such medication.

It was very painful to swallow after the surgery. It seemed my food had to go up and over a sore, arched bridge to get to my stomach. I remembered the song of my high school days, "I'm dancing with tears in my eyes," and tried valiantly to sing, "I'm eating with tears in my eyes," if Edward or Stephen should happen in at meal time and be alarmed at my tears.

This was my first adventure with a pain shot too. I had just been given such a shot when a most delicious lemon custard dessert was placed before me. So hungry from not eating because it hurt so bad, the custard was the first thing that went down without pain. I had taken only one bite when I became so sleepy I could not lift the spoon for a second bite.

At the end of the decade I went through the "funnies" of post menopause. A ten-year post menopause! I seemed to have sailed right through initial menopause without any of the usual symptoms, but alas, it came.

Right there, down south, it was while on the book signing tour. I thought at first it was something I'd eaten on the train, or the seeming heaviness of the southern atmosphere. What was this awful thing that closed in, held me trapped?

"God?" I queried.

I don't even want to recall all the details, but the bad comes with the good. It was the accompanying depression that was so bad. I found crocheting and embroidering to be a way to get through it. My friend, Thomza, already experienced in this unhappy time of life said, "Now just remember, Jean, you will get over this."

In the spring I sat in the porch swing embroidering pillow cases, looking at the green leaves coming out and saying, "By the time they fall, this will be over." By the time the leaves fell, I was still embroidering pillow cases and saying, "Before the leaves turn green again, this will be over."

It did leave, backing out slowly like some old stubborn camel who had nosed his way into my tent, uninvited.

Dr. Dennis Elrod helped that "camel" out of my living space, and life went on as before. Something good ought to come out of menopause. I have yet to find it. perhaps many pairs of embroidered pillow cases to give as gifts?

At the beginning of each new decade I always look forward, hoping that it is going to be better than the last one. But right away came a deluge of unhappy events: Kent State tragedy, Mama's death, Edward's heart attack.

On an early day in May, 1970, Kent State students in Ohio, protesting the Vietnam war, were fired upon by the National Guard. Four were killed. My hands gripped the edges of the green couch as the TV announcer made the grave statement. Was the Vietnam war going to cause a civil war in the United States? Were Americans killing Americans already, over a war half a world away?

By now Nixon was president, having succeeded Lyndon Johnson who became President when John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Nixon had promised he would end the war in Vietnam and eventually he did, but not before extending it, secretly, into Cambodia. When this was revealed, the anti-war demonstrations increased. Edward and I sat watching the thousands of marchers in Washington marching for peace.

In June of that same year Daniel Ellsbery turned over to the New York Times what was known as the Pentagon Papers. They revealed that our government had lied and misrepresented the Vietnam war to the American people and the war began to slowly wind down.

We had been defeated. A first for America.

~Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.