told me

I contracted spinobulbar polio in 1946 when a pandemic brought 13 cases in a single day to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. By 1950, I was five years old and could walk with a steel and leather brace on one leg My dad said I was one of the “lucky ones.”

My dad and mama told me I had to use my leg every day. I could not just slouch around on the couch. They said it did not matter if I fell down dragging my braced leg. I should get back up again, not complain, and keep on going as if nothing had happened.

So, I did. When the weather was below zero, I was sent out into the snow and cold with my brother, Mike, to play. Snow piles cushioned falls. I never told dad and mama that being out in the cold weather made my leg hurt much, much more. As a child, I sensed my parents’ suffering having a child disabled with a disease people greatly feared. I hid my pain to not make life harder for them. I got pretty good at pretending. I was the typical polio kid⸺ smiling through the pain.  After being outdoors in the cold, I would peel off my snowsuit and boots and huddle up to the heat vent in the living room so my polio leg would be warmed.

If my leg hurt too much to get up off the floor, I would cross my legs and watch my polio leg calf muscle spasm. This was interesting to me and a distraction from the pain as I could see a current of electricity and wiggly contraction move down my polio leg again and again.

“Use it or lose it,” my dad would say with a proud grin on his face. “Good job” he would say. Those were important words for me to hear. His encouragement taught me I could live with the pain in exchange for strengthening my damaged muscle.

Dad would also reward me with an ice-cream or custard cone when I walked with him around the big triangular block on which we lived. Yes, my polio leg hurt. I had to stop at intervals to rest. The sugary treat was not the only reward. I also sensed my dad’s pride and relief that I could keep on moving. Mobility became my responsibility. I learned to balance regular exercise even if painful with rest.

My brother and I were expected to do our share of household chores and also to help neighbors. We had yard work to do every season…planting, lawn care, snow removal during Wisconsin winters.

My parents expected us to shovel off our elderly neighbors’ walkways although I admit I did not accomplish as much of that as my big brother, Mike who was three years older than me. Dad and Mama would tell us that we shoveled snow for our elderly neighbors not because they told us we had to do so but because we were practicing how to be kind to those in need.

Lessons learned: I found that the kindness my parents instilled in my brother and me got passed down to my brothers’ and my children, and then, on to their children. I found Karma exists as the manifestation of kindness passed down to the great-grandchildren Dad and Mama would never be alive to set eyes on in this world.

I also learned that if you are one of the “lucky ones,” you should give more to others. Being able to help others is a privilege and can bring a whole lot of joy!

The only chore my brother got to do but not ever assigned to me was pushing the rotary lawn mover because my parents were afraid that I would fall into it and get cut up. Instead, I crawled around the edges of the lawn trimming blades of grass by hand.

By expecting me to be a responsible member of the family, my dad and mama fed into me the self-fulfilling prophecy that I could do almost anything anyone else could. That my work mattered. That a team can be composed of people who are not all alike. That no one gets out of the drudgeries of life because of the polio virus happened to infect them. I learned that polio did not break me. 

Lessons I learned: I can do most anything I put my mind to within reason. But it is always important to understand that not everyone can do so. I learned as a Director of Nursing to respect nurses with different levels of education and experience and remind them that the best team is the one that respects each other and works together.

I have learned about polio.

I am still teaching medical microbiology at age 85. I give zoom conferences to polio survivors and health care providers around the world.

My goal is to complete a book to help polio survivors, their families, and medical personnel.

on relationships goes beyond childhood.

I remember the prettiest girl in my high school class. She had childhood polio. In her senior year, her legs became weaker and she had to wear braces on both her legs. Her steady boyfriend broke up with her because of this.

Women who had polio can be an extremely attractive group in many ways and anyone would be lucky to date them. But I know of instances where parents interceded to stop a guy from dating a girl disabled by polio.

If you are a lucky polio survivor, your spouse will stay with you and help you when post-polio robs you of strength and/or overwhelms you with pain.

But my experience is that when post-polio hits and the wife-husband dynamic changes because the polio survivor cannot physically do as much as she/he could before, the non-disabled spouse often does not step up to the plate to help. Spouses may not adapt, making the polio survivor feel very alone. Divorce rates are high.

Maybe the spouse is embarrassed by the polio survivor’s disabilities. Or the non-disabled spouse just does not want to give more than he/she did before to contribute to a relationship.

I am one of the lucky ones. My wife stayed with me and is an advocate for post-polio syndrome awareness.

My parents kept my 1948 bout with polio a secret. We had been vacationing when I became symptomatic. Since I did not suffer paralysis, my family died holding the secret inside. But not forever.

I started to experience post-polio symptoms in the early 1980s. An orthopedist and physiatrist confirmed the diagnosis. My aunt, who knew all along, confirmed I had polio.

So, not until I was an adult have I needed, at first an ankle-foot-orthotic (AFO) and then a full metal and leather brace on my polio affected left leg. Now I wear braces on both legs.

The greatest lesson polio has given me is to seek the support of other polio survivors. We all struggle. Being able to talk openly whether in person or online about our polio experiences with one another has made me appreciate not only my bond with other polio survivors but also the wisdom I gain from talking with them.

The most important lesson I learned from polio is that vaccinations are not just important, they are vital. While I was in boarding school in Kenya, there was an outbreak of polio.

One boy was flown to South Africa for treatment. He was placed in an iron lung. All boys at the school were vaccinated.

School officials asked what to do for me. It was decided to vaccinate me like the rest.