Dinosaur Doc has a very amusing little post about how an aunt’s advice can be the magic a patient needs to conceive. (You’ll need to read the post yourself to learn what to do, but I will tell you that it requires a good strong Southern accent…)
I love the family tales and the old time advice. And like Dinosaur Doc, I, too, sometimes use them in my practice.
When we were growing up, Mom always prayed to Saint Gerard, the patron saint of mothers. In fact, when my parents moved into their first house, Mom buried a St Gerard medal in the yard. Ten years later, pregnant with her 6th of 9 children, she and Dad moved us all to a bigger place. Mom told the woman who bought our house about the medal in the yard, and told her St Gerard would watch over them as he had done us. Five kids later, that woman rang up my mother – “Where’s that damned medal buried? I need to dig it up!”
Now I’m not religious, but I do love my Mom, and I’ve always loved this story. Some years back, I told the story to a patient who was trying to get pregnant, and she asked if my Mom had any more medals (which of course she did). After I asked my Mom a third time for a medal for a patient, she gave me a stash of my own, which I keep in my desk drawer.
I still hand a medal out occasionally, usually to a patient undergoing assisted reproductive technology and looking for a little extra something to help the process along. I have no idea if the medals work, but when you’ve maxing out all the scientific options, what’s wrong with adding in a little hope? (and a little bit of family voodoo…)
The last patient I told this story to was a physician herself who is scheduled to start her third IVF cycle next month. We both figured it couldn’t hurt if she wore the medal on the day of the egg retrieval…
I’ll let you know how it goes for her.
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I love this story! 🙂
You and Dinasour Doc need to go into practice together.
TBTAM, the part about the woman who called your mother made me laugh so hard, that I had to delurk.
If I move to NYC, which is my backup plan if I don’t manage to move back to Italy, will you be my doc? I’ll bring you recipes, I promise.
When we were trying to sell our house (unsuccessfully) we were told to bury St. Christopher in the yard by my mother and to put in white carpet throughout by our realtor. We did both and the house sold… Who knows?