Page 7 - Big Pharma and the Constant Gardener

HOW QUICKLY THINGS

CHANGE

We had grown up in the heartland on a large farm with lots of

hired help, especially during the summer months. We were all

involved in both physical work and play in the out-of-doors, often
involving farm machinery, large equipment, grooming Angus cattle

for show, and an after-hours plunge in the farm pond. But to the

best of my recollection, we had no farm accidents and no ER visits.

If we were sick, it was self-care and time enough to heal. Yes, we
got our vaccinations on schedule, but in my formative years, Dad

was not using antibiotics, added hormones, or other additives to

raise his cattle. And during my pre-college years, Mother did not

rush off to pick up an antibiotic for us when we were sick.

September 1997 – Well into their retirement years, Mother and Dad

were involved in a car accident in which their car was totaled on
a Toronto expressway as they were en route to meet good friends

for a fishing trip. She later stated that, upon impact, she thought

she was dying. Upon her arrival back home, her tall statuesque
frame now appeared small and fragile. “Mother, you look like a

little bird,” I said sadly and softly – more to myself than to her. “I