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GUT-WRENCHING MEMOIR
I Was Called “The Dysentery Kid”
A school daze
How many people do you know who’ve suffered with amoebic dysentery? If your answer is “Nobody,” today is your red-letter day as the little bastards overran my body when I was about twelve.
Yes! I’m not making this up to garner attention from readers who have an inordinate interest in poo.
A bit of backstory. When I was hanging out in my mother’s womb, meditating on the day I’d be sprung, doctors were still using forceps as an aid in difficult deliveries.
Months of meditation while blissfully afloat in amniotic fluid must have given me a sense that life could be a tough row to hoe as when it came time for my mother to launch me into the world, I was resistant to such a brutal emerging. It took hours for my poor mother to expel my nine-pound self from her slender body and finally, her doc at Chicago’s Mount Sinai Hospital came to her aid by shoving a forceps into the birth canal and yanking me out by my ear. Literally.
Forceps are rarely used today and for good reason. According to verywellfamily.com, the use of forceps can cause potential risks to an infant, including, but not limited to facial injuries and weakness, skull fractures, and bleeding.
