Oct 1, 2009

Warning: Nerve Pill Required For This Reading.

There are certain things about the South that are wonderful:

I love the fact that my Granny buys okra once a week from the "black farmer down off of 706".

I love the fact that I had to ask for an extra piece of paper when it came time to fill out the people allowed to pick Remi up from school.

And I especially love the fact that when you plan a Halloween party (like I am) the first question someone asks is not some hoity-toity question, but rather, "Want me to see if I can round us up some bails of hay to sit on?"

But there are also things about living in the South (or at least my part of the South) that are a tad peculiar. Though none as peculiar as this...

Since I have moved home I have been diagnosed with multiple ailments, fractures, sprains and "nerve problems."

"Oh, poor Melisa," you might be saying to yourself, "we should really lift her up in prayer."

No, no you shouldn't.

Because you see, none of my conditions have been determined by a doctor; a real, live, educated physician. No ma'am. My conditions - and those of my husband, and both of my children - have been diagnosed by the women in my family.

In the three months I have lived here I have been diagnosed with:

  • An early onset of Arthritis ("your momma has it and I can tell by looking at you you have it to.")
  • Psoriasis ("Melissa, I was looking at your brush this weekend and I think I see signs of Psoriasis in it. I should know...I have it, too.")
  • Flat arches ("Your uncle Dave was told he had this in High School. He's suffered with it for years. And we know you have it, just look how you run!")
  • Skin Tags ("Have you noticed how many skin tags have come up on your neck in the past year, Melissa? It's really strange. I think you're Aunt Linda had that happen...")
  • Pre-Nervous Breakdown ("You try to do too much and you have two small babies and nobody wants you helping out at the church anyway, just tell 'em NO! And then remind them that you can only do so much with two babies and fallen arches.")

And I've only lived here three months! There's a good chance I'll be dead by Easter.

And my poor kids. They get the worst of it because they can't speak for themselves; and as their advocate I would totally speak up for them but I'm a tad too preoccupied with the plethora of skin tags I got goin' on and the fact that I have some sort of scalp disease.

In their short little existence Remi has been diagnosed with:

ADD, Hyperactivity, Not being spanked enough (apparently that is a disease that was discovered in the 80's when my Aunt Melba was raising her two), some sort of sleeps-too-little-disorder, and a disease in the South commonly referred to as "She-won't-eat-meat-then-there-must-be-something-wrong-with-her-because-we-all-eat-meat-itis."

Poor Rocco has had diarrhea cause he's teething, diarrhea because his teeth won't come through, diarrhea because his teeth came through but then went back down again, diarrhea because I gave him Orajel, diarrhea because I didn't give him Orajel, some sort of sleeps-too-much-disorder, and the classic "The-kid-eats-everything-in-site-but-won't-eat-vegetables-what-do-you-think-is-wrong-with-him-because-we-all-eat-vegetables-itis."

Let's don't even get started on The AG. Personally, he doesn't know just how sick he is. I am trying to allow him to enjoy his last few days on earth.

I told my Granny I was going to blog the fact that they are able to diagnose every problem someone else has but can never quite put their finger on their own problems and she seemed confused...

"So? What's the big deal? Doctors can't do anything for you."

"I've just never met any other women like you all."

"Then you don't know all women."

Maybe not. But I know enough.


Anonymous said...

This sounds like the woman in my family.

Anonymous said...

Sorry, I can not spell either...I should have said "WOMEN" in my family.

Anonymous said...

Just hang on.... what's comin' next - my step grandmother told me about two years ago..."You know, you used to be a pretty girl...then all those skin tags started poppin' up. What ever are you gonna do?".
WOW - who knew. See - it could be worse!!!!!!!
Hang in there - the good Lord can use even skin tags...

Lauren W said...

Oh my... Don't you worry, I'll put you and your family on our prayer list. You know God can do all things, and I'm sure he has a cure for those flat arches and poor Remi's non-carnivorous diet. You just let us know if you need anything while you suffer these atrocious afflictions! ;)

Sayrah said...

This cracked me up because I feel the same way sometimes! I was really hoping to hear your opinion on last nights glee but judging by how "ill" you and your family are, Im guessing all the "ites"'s took up to much of yout time and you didn't watch it!

Sissy said...

You might as well give up now. Sounds like you have too many problems.

Perksofbeingme said...

Welcome to the south. it's why I love it.

Crazy Sister said...

My goodness. I'd love to hear the cures for all those ailments - I bet your family would know them!

Trish said...

where shall I send the flowers?

haha, just kidding.

actually I could borrow one of those ladies. ever since we moved to this place my nine year old has come down with all sorts of funky things and I'm tired of paying co-pays, so it you'll just send me a southern aunt or granny of yours that'd suit me just fine. don't forget to pack their parka.

oldwomaninashoe said...

My ex- d-i-l's granny is from Kentucky. Imagine my shock when my son called me on his cell & whispered to me, "Mom? Mom! Missy's granny just grabbed Tiffany by her heels( my first grandchild, who was about ten days old at that time) & flipped her upside down & shook her. Can she do that?!?!?". After I could talk & trust me, yell is more accurate. No, she couldn't do & why in the world would she should do that! Apparently, I kid you not, it was to put her liver in the right place and ward off the inward fever. I told him to get that baby back up here in Indiana & never let that crazy mountain woman near her again. She needed to come up here to her normal granny who rubs potatoes on warts, dries up poison ivy with lemon juice and treats diaper rash with burnt flour. Women from the South, which includes my mother's family, are a breed all of their own.

Lisa@BlessedwithGrace said...

Wow, we really must be related 'cause that sounds like my mom!!! If I mention an hang nail or sore toe my mother will start telling me what is really wrong. Then my dad will roll his eyes and say, "Don't tell you mother about your pains. You know she thinks she is a doctor!" LOL!!

BTW, the skin tags have attacked me, too! What ever will we do???? Go ask your Granny. I'll as my momma and we can compare notes. :-)

Jill said...

I LOVE reading your blog! You are hilarious and you bring a smile to my face!!

Kiran (Masala Chica) said...

Spot on. With families like ours, who even needs medical assurance or regular checkups.