Above: Flowers from Kathy. The pink rose is an old Damask rose she saved from a construction site in our neighborhood and has the most beautiful scent.
Rosa × damascena, more commonly known as the Damask rose, or sometimes as the Rose of Castile, is a rose hybrid, derived from Rosa gallica and Rosa moschata. The flowers are renowned for their fine fragrance, and are commercially harvested for rose oil (either “rose otto” or “rose absolute”) used in perfumery and to make rose water and “rose concrete”. The flower petals are also edible. They may be used to flavor food, as a garnish, as an herbal tea, and preserved in sugar as gulkand. ~Wiki~
At 1:00AM this morning I turned 73. Mom having been in labor for 24 hours, I came too late for mother’s Day in 1942. Mom said I was black and blue and she felt awful. I still have the scars on my head from the forceps the doctor used to yank me out. Born today, I would have been a c-section birth.
The term ‘forceps’ is used almost exclusively within the medical field. Outside medicine, people usually refer to forceps as tweezers, tongs, pliers, clips or clamps.
Etymologically, the word derives from the Latin forca, meaning a snare or trap. Mechanically, forceps employ the principle of the lever to grasp and apply pressure.
Obstetric forceps consist of two branches that are positioned around the fetal head. These branches are defined as left and right depending on which side of the mother’s pelvis they will be applied. The branches usually, but not always, cross at a midpoint which is called the articulation. Most forceps have a locking mechanism at the articulation, but a few have a sliding mechanism instead, allowing the two branches to slide along each other. Forceps with a fixed lock mechanism are used for deliveries where little or no rotation is required, as when the fetal head is in line with the mother’s pelvis. Forceps with a sliding lock mechanism are used for deliveries requiring more rotation.
Every birthday while I was growing up, my parents told me the story of my birth, how my Mom had almost died, how the doctors told Dad he had to choose between “his wife” or “the baby,” how I survived despite my condition.
I was a resilient kid. A month later, I contracted pneumonia, and was saved by the new wonder drug, penicillin. I told my daughter that I need to live to age 80 to break even on my annuity. She said, “You’ll make it.