I contracted polio on August 27, 1952, at the age of six. I spent ten days in isolation at the hospital and three months in a rehabilitation center where I endured having hot strips of wool wrapped around my legs twice a day followed by muscle stretching. I went home with a brace on my right leg from the waist down, locked at the knee, and crutches.

I was very blessed to have a strong-willed mother who insisted I not be sent away to a “special school where I would be around other children like me.” She was adamant that I do my exercises daily and wear my brace from the time I got up until I went to bed. Because of that, my leg stayed straight and grew stronger.

She did not argue when I strapped on my roller skates, grabbed my crutches, and took off with the other kids in the neighborhood. Over time, the knee locks were taken off, and I put away my crutches. At age 12, I had surgery to freeze my right ankle and stop my foot from dropping. Eventually I was allowed to do away with my brace.

While I still had quite a limp, I went through my high school and college years with little difficulty. I married and had two children. In my late twenties, I started falling more often and was told it was time to go back to wearing a brace. Then began the journey backwards: adding a cane, making changes to my bracing, adding a walker, and recently, an electric wheelchair. My left leg is worn out from doing all the work, and my right leg has lost all its strength. I am now 80 years old. Next spring, I will move to a supportive care facility where I will still have my own apartment but will have help with the everyday chores that I have always prided myself in doing.

One of the biggest frustrations I have is finding medical providers that understand what I am telling them. They want me to fit into their boxes. I fear that the man who has done my bracing for years will retire and others won’t know what I need. As children, people wanted to hide us away; as older adults, we sometimes feel we are forgotten. But we are still here and our voices are still strong.

While polio added huge challenges to my life, I managed to either overcome most of these or find an alternate way of doing things. I try to focus on what I can do and not on what I can’t do.

I wish I could convince young parents that polio is a terrible disease that no child should have to go through what I did. I try to tell my story at every opportunity. No child should have to endure a life caused by polio.