My Grandmother and the Valium

We're long overdue for a post. This is an old family story. It's a good one though.

My grandmother had eight children. (8!)  She raised them all, they all survived into adulthood. (which is a downright miracle as far as I'm concerned, and I only have 2)  After my grandmother's children were grown (I'm not sure on whether they were actually out of the house or not, but the youngest was at least in high school)  My grandmother would babysit. Goodness knows she had the experience.   Also living in my grandmother's house was her step-mother, who had developed severe dementia, and, at the time of this story, a new puppy.

So my grandmother is watching the neighbor's 1 1/2 year old, (I believe, toddler age in any case) her, at the point crazy, step-mother, and a new, very excitable dog.  She's feeling very stressed out. She goes to the doctor, tells him how much stress she is under, and how she just feels like she's losing it. The doctor prescribes her valium. (Which was the norm at the time. I think if you were a housewife and had any complaints you got valium or speed, or both)

My grandmother goes home, cuts the pill into three pieces, gives one to the step-mother, one to the dog, and one to the baby. She then goes back to the doctor and says, "doc, I feel so much better." Cue laughter

At this point my grandfather interrupts, "that's not how it happened, that's not how it happened," pause, "she didn't give any to the baby."  Cue even more laughter.

My grandfather told me, years later, that it didn't happen exactly like that. He said my grandmother actually just intended to give some to her step-mother, because she was getting a little wild in her dementia, to help her calm down. (possibly that was who the doctor always intended the medicine to be given to)  Her step-mother though refused to take any pills. So she had cut the pill up to hide it in the step-mothers food when the new puppy came over and gulped down one of the pieces.  It was reported though that it was one of the better days my grandmother had at that point in her life. (I think maybe she continued to give it to the dog, but am not sure)

This is, and always has been, one of my favorite stories about my grandmother. It's funny. Admit it. You've wanted to drug the baby, and the puppy, and possibly your mother, or mother-in-law.  There's more to it then that though.

The thing I have always liked about the story is the light it puts my grandmother in. Not that of a stressed out housewife desperately drugging her charges, but that of a woman, in a time where women and their feelings were greatly discounted and overmedicated, who was sure, no matter what the professional said, that the problem wasn't her.  She was sure that no matter how much stress she was under, or how close she may feel to losing it, the person who needed medication wasn't her.  Think about this, as a woman, for a moment.  We're constantly told we've overreacting, we can't deal with stress, we must need something to calm us down, to allow us to deal with things, because we are overemotional, overreacting, histrionical individuals who cannot be trusted with just about anything. (Including, but not limited to, what to do with our own bodies)

At a point in history where these beliefs were held incredibly strongly, and the solution to any unhappy woman was to drug her, my grandmother was sure the problem wasn't her. She was sure she wasn't the one who needed the medication.

My grandmother was a proponent for her children, most of whom where teenagers during the '60 &'70s.  She was at odds with the school system on numerous occasions. She was livid that the school took her children for eight hours a day, and then sent them home with more work. She didn't think they should be allowed to decide what her children wore, or what their behavior should be. She was sure that even though she was the one losing her mind, or arguing against the system, or whatever - that the problem wasn't her. And it wasn't.  This is a strong woman from a line of incredibly strong women, who never accepted what she was told, just because someone of authority had told it to her. This was a woman who knew better.

This is where I hold my grandmother in my mind. This is why the valium story is one of my favorites. This is why I find myself remembering it a lot these days. When I feel stressed out, overwhelmed, or fed up.  I remember my grandmother, who I'm sure faltered, but is remembered with a grace, love, and self assurance I strive to emulate in my life.