I was a young 20-year-old happy bride. We knew our life would be full with joy forever. We had that joy for five beautiful years. We were so proud of our darling daughters – ages three, one and six months. Then tragedy struck. My husband Alan was a salesman and he went out each day to call on customers. It was an extremely hot July. In 1954, his car was not air-conditioned and he drank ice water to cool off. We had noticed in the newspaper that polio was becoming prevalent, but we were certain it would never touch our family and friends. The paper said that the symptoms were like the flu, and the only true test was a spinal tap. We, of course, felt sad for those affected, but put it out of our minds.
The last of July 1954, Alan woke up not feeling well. He had a slight fever and was somewhat weak. I called the doctor and he said to come to the office and he would check him. Alan was able to walk to the car and get in. The doctor checked him and said he had either the flu or polio. He told us the only way he could really tell was to do a spinal tap. He said it was very painful to do it and Alan, like all of us, was not great on pain. So he declined and we went home.
Two mornings later, Alan was yellow when woke up. His skin and eyeballs were a true yellow color. I was frantic. I again called the doctor’s office. Our doctor was out of town, but his partner was sent. He took one look at Alan and said he had hepatitis. He also felt confident that he had polio and should head stright to the hospital.
By this time Alan was not able to walk, so our friend and I carried him to the car and to the hospital. A spinal tap was done and the diagnosis was polio, with a complication of hepatitis. The hepatitis was caused by a severe infection due to the prolonging of the disease. Alan was rushed to the isolation ward, where he remained for three weeks. I was not permitted to enter, but I wanted him to know I was there, so I sat outside of the room every day talking to him from early in the morning until night. We had moved in with my parents, so they could take care of the girls while I was at the hospital. I don’t know what I would have done without them. We had many friends, but they were afraid to be around me, as no one really knew how this frightening disease was spread.
Alan was moved out of isolation into a private room after the three weeks. He was so weak, but now the recovery really began. I heard about an Australian nurse, called Sister Kenney, who had come up with a treatment of putting hot packs on designated areas to help with the pain and to strengthen the legs of polio patients. I ran home and found wool blankets and brought them to the hospital. The nurse began the tedious method of applying the hot packs to his legs. Alan was then diagnosed with spinal paralysis. The doctor informed me he would never walk again. They wanted to make him as comfortable as possible. They did a lot of Sister Kenney’s treatments, but to no avail. The next stop in his therapy was to stretch his leg muscles. I was in the waiting room when they began. I heard a piercing scream, and I knew right away, it was my dear husband, as the pain was unbearable, but it had to be done. He endured months of painful therapy, and after five long months I was able to bring him home. I had learned to drive so would be able to take him to therapy three times a week. Alan’s morale was upbeat until the day they brought his leg braces in and he sobbed. He now understood this was to be his way of life, for life.
The children were doing well. Our pediatrician’s wife had gone to a medical center and stood in line for hours to receive a serum discovered by Dr. Jonas Salk, that children were receiving to prevent them from getting the disease. This was the new polio vaccine. Adults were not allowed to get the shot, as the serum was limited. My family tried every way to get it for me, but it was impossible. We were all so fortunate not to have caught it.
It was suggested to us that we take Alan to Warm Springs, Georgia to see if they had any suggestions to improve his health. This was where Franklin D. Roosevelt went, our 32nd president who also suffered from polio. Polio patients went to Warm Springs to rest and enjoy the spring waters for therapy. It was interesting and sad to see numerous children being pushed around in iron lungs, those patients with bulbar polio. From that day on, Alan was never depressed again. He said at least he had his wonderful childhood and young manhood, but these precious children would physically never enjoy theirs. When Alan had a complete check-up, we were then advised to travel to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota to see if they might suggest a surgery to help his condition.
We returned home and immediately made arrangements to go to the Mayo Clinic. The doctors there suggested that Alan needed an abdominal transplant and recommended a surgeon in Kansas City to perform it. We went home and scheduled the surgery. The operation was meant to strengthen his abdomen and make it easier for him to sit up. The surgery was a success, and it helped him sit in a chair and a wheelchair.
After his surgery, Alan went to physical therapy, where he was under the care of a fabulous therapist, named Vi. She was Alan’s guardian angel. He told her that he wanted to be able to walk in his braces and on his crutches. He told her he mainly wanted to be able to go to New York on a buying trip for his family business. Vi understood what his aim in life was. She first taught him to walk with his braces and using his Canadian crutches. She first called a movie theater about two blocks downhill from the hospital. She knew they were closed during the day so she told them about Alan’s desire to sit in an armchair and to be able to get up and down. The dear manager told her she was welcome to the theater and use their movie seats.
Vi then told Alan of the plan. He was to walk downhill to the theater. She would then show him how to maneuver himself into the armchair and how to get up. They did that for days until he had easily accomplished it. Alan completed all the rehabilitation that Vi thought he needed and released him as a patient. He was then on his own.
Alan was now 34 and his new way of life had officially begun. The best item he purchased was a hand control for his car. He felt independent. Vi, of course, had taught him how to get in and out of the car to drive. He was always our hero. He constantly said that there was nothing he could not do. He was so brave and would try anything. He drove us everywhere, even to New Orleans and Chicago. We took plane trips to New York and he never missed going on buying trips. Alan led a normal life with an abnormal condition. What a man he was! He even walked our girls down the aisle when they married.
I have written this to explain to all new brides, when they hear “in sickness and in health” they can smile and feel confident that they have that covered, because the love of their husband will give them the strength to be there for him always and forever.
My beloved Alan passed away at the age of 97, after battling pneumonia for two weeks. It feels ironic that he could not beat the pneumonia because his abdomen was not strong, having been damaged by polio years ago. Bless all brides and grooms. May health and happiness follow you forever. May you always find the strength to persevere as a team, in sickness and in health.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Chronicle.
Gloria and Alan Steinzeig were members of Congregation B’nai Jehudah, where Alan was a member for his entire life. Alan was a member of ROMEOs. Gloria Steinzeig lives in Prairie Village, Kansas.
By Gloria Steinzeig
Special to The Chronicle
