Aging with Polio: Why We Were Prepared for Growing Older

Michael Kossove

By surviving polio, we unknowingly enrolled in the world’s toughest life-training program. None of us volunteered for it. None of us wanted it. Yet living with polio—and later with post-polio syndrome— taught many survivors lessons about perseverance, adaptability, patience, and determination that now help us face the challenges of aging far better than most people our age.

For many seniors, aging arrives as a shock. Suddenly there are medications, surgeries, balance problems, fatigue, arthritis, walkers, wheelchairs, and doctors’ appointments that seem to multiply overnight. Activities that once felt effortless become difficult. Independence changes. The body no longer cooperates.

For polio survivors, however, adapting to physical change is not new. We have been doing it our entire lives.

Most people spend their younger years believing they are physically invincible; polio survivors never had that luxury. From childhood, we understood hospitals, rehabilitation, surgery, pain, and uncertainty. While other children worried about baseball cards or school dances, many of us worried about whether we would walk again, whether another surgery would help, or whether we would be able to climb the stairs at school.

Some of us spent months, even years, in hospitals, in iron lungs, and/or rehabilitation centers. We endured muscle stretching, painful therapy sessions, hot compresses, braces, casts, crutches, wheelchairs, orthopedic shoes, tendon transfers, spinal surgeries, and endless medical examinations. We learned very early that life was not always fair.

But we also learned something else: obstacles could be overcome. If one muscle failed, we learned to rely on another. If stairs became impossible, we developed techniques. If our hands weakened, we improvised. Creativity became a way of life. Problem-solving became instinctive.

Polio survivors became experts at adaptation long before the word became fashionable. In fact, many of us became classic Type A personalities. We learned early that sitting back and waiting for things to happen was not an option. We became planners, organizers, problem-solvers, and doers. When something stood in our way, we adjusted and kept moving. We did not spend much time feeling sorry for ourselves because life demanded action. If something needed to be done, we figured out a way to do it.

That ability carried over into every phase of life.

School itself could be an obstacle course. Many schools were not accessible to students with disabilities. Elevators often did not exist. Children with disabilities were frequently misunderstood or underestimated. Some teachers assumed physical disability meant intellectual. Many of us went to schools with other disabled children, not the regular neighborhood schools. Our parents had to intervene to get us into local schools. Yet many polio survivors developed fierce determination. We pushed ourselves academically because we wanted to prove that our disability did not define our intelligence or our potential.

And then there was the social side of growing up. Children can be cruel without meaning to be. We were stared at, questioned, imitated, and sometimes excluded. Walking differently, wearing braces, or using crutches instantly made us “different.” Those experiences often gave polio survivors an unusual level of emotional strength and empathy. We learned compassion because we understood what it felt like to struggle.

Dating and marriage brought another layer of anxiety. Many survivors worried whether someone would accept them physically. Would a limp matter? Would braces embarrass someone? Would weakness or disability become a burden? Those fears were real. Many polio survivors developed strong personalities, humor, intelligence, and resilience that attracted people far beyond physical appearances.

Employment presented even greater challenges. Before disability protections became common, many employers openly discriminated against people with disabilities. Some assumed we were incapable without giving us a chance. So, polio survivors learned another important life skill: persistence.

Many became overachievers. We often worked harder than everyone else because we felt we had to prove ourselves. We became professionals, teachers, physicians, lawyers, counselors, writers, business owners, advocates, and community leaders. We learned organization, planning, and discipline because conserving energy and maximizing ability were necessary for survival.

Even everyday activities required strategy. Most people never think about parking spaces, ramps, distances, elevators, accessible bathrooms, or whether chairs have armrests. Polio survivors think about these things automatically. We became experts at scanning environments, planning ahead, and conserving energy long before aging forced others to do the same.

We also became experts at handling disappointment. Plans changed. Bodies changed. Sometimes after months of rehabilitation, the results were not what we hoped. Some survivors regained function only to lose it later. Others spent years trying to appear “normal,” pushing themselves beyond safe limits because they wanted to fit into society.

Then came post-polio syndrome. For many survivors, PPS felt like a cruel second attack. After decades of stability, muscles weakened again. Fatigue became overwhelming. Pain increased. Activities that had once become manageable suddenly became difficult again.

Yet even then, polio survivors adapted. We adjusted schedules. We learned energy conservation. We accepted mobility devices we once resisted. We modified homes, changed routines, and redefined independence. Because after surviving polio once, we already understood something many people discover only later in life: independence is not about doing everything exactly the way you once did it. Independence is finding new ways to continue living fully.

Now, as seniors, many polio survivors watch friends their own age struggle emotionally with aging-related challenges that feel terrifying and unfamiliar to them. Knee replacements, shoulder surgeries, arthritis, diabetes, heart disease, chronic fatigue, reduced balance, hearing loss, vision problems, or the need for mobility assistance suddenly become life-changing events.

For many polio survivors, the reaction is often different. This is not because these problems are easy—they are not—but because we already know how to cope.

A cane or walker? We have used one before. Physical therapy? Been there. Surgery? We survived dozens. Fatigue? We practically invented energy conservation decades ago. Mobility devices? We learned long ago that using equipment is not weakness; it is freedom.

Unlike many people who freeze when faced with obstacles, polio survivors tend to move into action mode. We do not simply sit back. We adjust, we improvise, and we do whatever needs to be done. That mindset became part of our personalities decades ago.

We also learned patience in ways many people never had to. Rehabilitation taught us that progress sometimes comes slowly, inches instead of miles. We learned endurance, because we had no alternative. We learned how to keep going even when we were exhausted, frustrated, or frightened.

And perhaps most importantly, we learned perspective. Polio survivors understand gratitude deeply. We appreciate simple accomplishments because we fought hard for them. Walking across a room, driving a car, raising children, holding a job, traveling, or simply remaining independent were victories we never took for granted.

Humor also became one of our greatest survival tools. You almost had to laugh sometimes. Braces squeaked during quiet moments. Crutches slipped at the worst possible times. Wheelchair or scooter batteries died. Strangers asked ridiculous questions. Doctors occasionally said absurd things. Humor helped transform embarrassment into resilience. That humor continues to help us age grace-fully today.

None of this means aging with polio or post-polio syndrome is easy. It can be physically exhausting and emotionally painful. Losing strength after spending years fighting to gain it can feel deeply unfair. Many survivors struggle with chronic pain, breathing problems, isolation, or increasing dependence.

But polio survivors possess something unique: lifelong experience overcoming adversity. We spent decades learning how to adapt, improvise, persevere, and continue forward despite obstacles. We learned courage in hospital rooms, determination in rehabilitation centers, and creativity in everyday life.

In many ways, polio prepared us for aging better than anything else could have. While seniors today are just beginning to learn how to cope with physical limitations, polio survivors have been mastering those lessons for a lifetime.

We are not simply aging.

We continue to do what we have always done: adjust, adapt, persevere, and live life on our own terms.