DR. NORMAN HAGBERG, M.D., CONTRIBUTED THE NEXT THREE STORIES

Dr. Norman Hagberg, M.D., served his southwestern Minnesota community as a Family Physician for decades. He epitomized what Country Doctor means to those who relied on such for skillful, compassionate care. I am pleased to introduce Dr. Hagberg through reminiscences from hisown practice:

The Staff of Life

Olga suffered a stroke. It resulted in significant swallowing problems. Despite this handicap, nurses and aides at the local nursing home carefully and patiently provided her with adequate nutrition, so as to avoid a feeding tube.

The biggest problem the staff faced was that her husband, Ole, insisted on feeding her bread, causing her to choke on several occasions. The nurses asked me to speak to him regarding the bread, as their requests had gone unheeded.

I knew this could be a touchy challenge because I had observed his “short fuse” in the past. Ole was a stubborn old Scandinavian who lived by the premise that his way was the only way.

Ole and Olga had been former neighbors of mine, providing some common ground for conversation. I arranged to meet with Ole at the nursing home one morning. We reminisced about the past, how I had enjoyed watching him plow and cultivate his small field with a miniature John Deere tractor. Its two-cylinder, putt-putt engine still left great acoustical memories. I reminded him of how much my five children had frequented their front door, Olga always ready with treats. “She had them believing marshmallows grew in her garden!”

With a few more old stories and laughs, I felt that I had developed good rapport. I explained to him that Olga’s stroke had caused swallowing difficulties and that she should have only pureed or very soft food. I said she should not be fed bread—

It was as if the word BREAD lit a torch and his mood switched one hundred and eighty degrees. He stiffened and leaned toward the bedside stand between us. His eyes flashed, his face flushed, and veins in his neck stood out like ropes. He pound his fist on the table in rhythm with his words.

“BREAD IS THE STAFF OF LIFE, AND BY GOD SHE’S GOING TO HAVE BREAD!”

Shortly thereafter, Olga succumbed to the ravages of her stroke—hopefully without a chunk of bread stuck in her throat.

Endless Love

I knocked on hospital room 106 before entering.

Charlie was sitting at his wife’s bedside with her hand clasped in his. Their sixty-plus years of marriage appeared to me as perfect bliss. We had some conversation, and he, knowing I had to examine her, excused himself. He slowly raised himself from his chair, leaned over to kiss his wife and said goodnight. Cane in hand, he shuffled toward the door.

She called to him, “Now, you be good.”

He slowly turned in a robot-like manner, winked at me and said, “That gets easier all the time.”

Maple Nut Ice Cream

Emil walked briskly into my examination room. As always, he was accompanied by his wife, Mabel, twenty-plus years younger. He was a small man with a deep voice and was unusually alert and spry for being one hundred years old. Emil always dressed in a white shirt and dark trousers, held in place by suspenders. I had seen him as a patient many times over the previous twenty-five or more years.

His first, and only, marriage had been to Mabel at the age of sixty-five. He was a very pious man and invariably on every office visit would give testimony to his Maker, but always in an inoffensive manner.

One day I asked him how he accounted for his one hundred years. He smiled. “I have a bowl of maple nut ice cream every night before bed.”

His wife chimed in, “You should come out some evening for ice cream. And, he loves to play Chinese checkers. He always beats me.”

Not long afterward, I had a night free of emergency call. It was a gorgeous mid-summer evening, so I rode my bike to their home, seven miles out in the country. It was one of those perfect Minnesota evenings, a lazy sun dipping toward the west, with a nice south breeze at my back. Bicycling gives time to muse. It had been a wonderful day, starting with an early-morning delivery of a beautiful baby.

I knocked on the front door of their quaint little white frame house. Both Emil and Mabel met me inside. He always addressed me as “Doctor” in a very proper and respectful manner. After shaking hands, he grabbed me by the arm and led me to the Chinese checker table. While I was getting beat for the second time, I remembered his wife telling me, “He loves to play checkers.”

With the game ended and a gleam in his eyes, Emil asked, “Another?”

I said, “How about that maple nut ice cream?”

Mabel dished it up and the three of us sat at their little kitchen table. Emil said, “We shall pray.” In his deep, theatrical voice he began, “Thank you, Lord for...”

My attention wandered. I thought, “Wow! If two dips of ice cream rate this long a prayer, what about a whole meal?” Then I plugged back in.

“... and lastly, Lord, thank you especially that Dr. Hagberg came to see us.”

My throat tightened and my eyes teared.

We enjoyed our small talk and ice cream and I was soon on my way home. I peddled leisurely with one finger on the tip of the handle bar, soaking up the beauty of the countryside. The setting sun cast shadows on waving, golden wheat in one field, and in another, corn was “Field of Dreams” high.

I thought to myself, “I have the best job in the world as a family physician. Thank you, Lord, for the many Emils and Mabels I have come to know, who have entrusted their medical care to me!”

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