Well, this week hasn’t exactly gone as planned. Like so many in East Perry County right now—and, I’m sure, in many other places as well—I succumbed to illness earlier this week. I waited far too long to go to the doctor, so by the time I was sitting in the waiting room on Wednesday, my throat was on fire and my energy was gone. I remember thinking, “I almost hope it’s strep so they can give me antibiotics and I can finally start to feel better.” Sure enough, the test came back positive, the medicine was procured, and by that evening I could swallow without wincing.

That same evening, my earlier thought about hoping it was strep so I could get antibiotics came back to mind as I read the obituary of a woman in our congregation who had died earlier in the week just shy of her 92nd birthday. It included this story from her childhood:

“When she was a young girl, a stick punctured her leg as she ran through the orchard on their family farm. She developed tetanus and became very ill. Her parents were told nothing more could be done for her, but there was a new experimental medicine they could try. They consented, and our heavenly Father mercifully healed His child through the use of penicillin.”

Reading that, I was struck by how easily I had taken my own situation for granted. A sore throat, a quick test, a prescription, and within hours the medicine was already doing its work. What felt like a miserable few days to me would have looked very different not so long ago. Before antibiotics, infections that we now treat almost routinely could be life-threatening.

It also made me think about our current exhibit featuring the medical equipment of Dr. Theodore Fischer. Dr. Fischer practiced medicine in Altenburg in the early and mid-1900s, during a time when medicine was rapidly changing. Doctors like him lived through the transition from an era with very limited treatments to one in which antibiotics and other new discoveries began transforming patient care.

When we look at the instruments and tools from physicians like Dr. Fischer, it can be easy to see them simply as historical artifacts. But behind each of those tools were real patients, real illnesses, and real moments of hope—families waiting, doctors doing what they could with the knowledge and medicines available at the time.

This week was a small reminder for me that the ordinary things we experience today—doctor visits, prescriptions, and medicines that work quickly—are actually remarkable blessings. They are also a reminder of the many people who came before us: physicians who practiced with fewer tools, families who faced illnesses with far less certainty, and communities that placed their trust in both medical care and the mercy of God.

Needless to say, I am especially thankful for antibiotics this week.

If you haven’t had a chance to stop in and see our current exhibits, Cavities & Cures or Portraits from the Past, you still have a couple more weeks—they will be gone by the end of the month. As you can see, a few stories have been added to our wall, but there is still plenty of room for more. We would love to add yours as well.

Until next week! Denise Hellwege, Director