I had a friend in high school who talked nostalgically about living in past eras. I pointed out that a) without modern antibiotics I wouldn’t have lived past four years and b) we had about 95% odds of being a peasant or slave in any of the time periods she mentioned, which did not sound great.

Yeah, I wouldn't have had to worry about living as a starving peasant because even if I'd been born into royalty I would have been taken out by a kidney infection before I turned 10.

I had a friend in high school who talked nostalgically about living in past eras. I pointed out that a) without modern antibiotics I wouldn’t have lived past four years and b) we had about 95% odds of being a peasant or slave in any of the time periods she mentioned, which did not sound great.

Being born with SB, I likely would have died in the first week without spine surgery.

I had a friend in high school who talked nostalgically about living in past eras. I pointed out that a) without modern antibiotics I wouldn’t have lived past four years and b) we had about 95% odds of being a peasant or slave in any of the time periods she mentioned, which did not sound great.

I think about how both my mother and I would probably have died at my birth and don't romanticize much before the 20th century.

My grandmother had a difficult birth with my mother in 1925 and, in the past, it's quite possible that they both would have died. I'd possibly have died of measles at three ... came close, but a nurse friend of my mother's helped save me. They were worried I'd be either blind or deaf (extremely nearsighted doesn't count, does it?).

I think about how both my mother and I would probably have died at my birth and don't romanticize much before the 20th century.

Epic, same. I have to take long breaks from working on genealogy; the context for a lot of family history is invaluable, but sweet shambling Cthulhu I am grateful to live in the future.

I would read a book's worth of conversations between Professora Vorthys, Lady Alys and Cordelia.

As a fan of wandering older cemeteries it is disheartening to see how many stones are young women and infants. Yeah, give me modern day science. My mother was born in 1921 at a 12 pound birth weight (at home, no drugs) with a diabetic mother. Her mom died at 28.

My maternal grandmother died in childbirth (conjoined stillborn twins - which would have been #9 and #10).

My paternal great-grandmother got kicked in the head by a mule and lived in a sanitarium for the rest of her life because they didn't know how to rehab a traumatic head injury.

My entire family line going back to the first Johan Smay in 1727 begins with him fathering 9 children with his first wife, who died in childbirth, then 8 more with his second wife.

My Aunt Geneva almost died during the Depression because she had tonsillitis and a quack doctor ripped them out with a pair of pliers.

My mother couldn't believe I'd really had my appendix removed, since I was only in the hospital ~36 hours; when she'd had hers removed in 1937 or so, she was in the hospital for two weeks.

My maternal line is an illustration of improved surgical techniques. Grandma, Mom, and my sister all had their gall bladders removed. My grandmother had a foot-long incision and bedrest for a week. Mom had a four inch incision and was up and about in a few days. My sister had it done laparoscopically and was feeling nearly up to snuff in a day.

I think some of the improvements in recovery time is also related to the time before people are willing to have surgery. Grandma had hers out in the middle of the Great Depression, when money was super tight. I'm sure there was a period of "let's see if this will get better on its own" for her that my sister did not have.

My mother couldn't believe I'd really had my appendix removed, since I was only in the hospital ~36 hours

That's particularly amusing to me (now) because when I had my appendix out a few years ago Brendon went around the system and got me out in less than 24 hours because "I didn't want to be in the hospital and wanted to go home". When he came in all happy to get me dressed and out of there I was nothing short of horrified at the thought of actually moving enough to get out of bed and dressed. Like, walk 20 feet from car to house, you got to be joking. But I managed.