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Redwood Falls, Minn. —
“Two of my cousins from Springfield got it from a friend of theirs, and then both sides of my family came to our house for the holiday,” she said last week.
All five children in Blick’s family ended up with polio, a viral disease that inflames and damages nerve cells in the lower brain and spinal cord, leading to paralysis.
“I got it the least,” Blick said. “I got it in my lower back, and first noticed it in my right shin.”
With polio eradicated in the United States since 1994, most people today don’t realize the horror a polio diagnosis caused in a community.
“No one came to visit our family, and the Brown County fair was cancelled that year because of the polio scare,” Blick said.
“I was going to country school at the time. When it got out we had polio, the parents closed the school for a week,” she said. “When they opened it again, it was so clean the water fountain just shone. The parents had scrubbed every inch of that school.”
Blick was sent to the Sister Kenny Institute in Minneapolis, a world leader in polio treatment at the time.
Leaving for the institute was more traumatic for her mother than it was for Blick.
“My mother had made me a cowgirl outfit, and I remember her taking a picture of me wearing it on the porch before I left for the institute,” she said. “My mother later said she was crying when she took the picture because she didn’t know if I’d ever come home.”
It was a legitimate fear; polio treatment was traumatic even in mild cases.
“In those days, you just didn’t leave your child. It just wasn’t done,” Blick said. “But when you got to the Sister Kenny Institute, you said good-bye to your parents, and were taken straight to the contagion ward. You might not see your parents for months.
“My cousin Doug was younger than I was. He had just taken his first steps when he was diagnosed with polio — and his parents had to just leave him at the institute.”
Patients were treated three times a day with steaming hot packs, and often felt they were being tortured instead of helped.
“The hot packs were heavy wool, very hot and wet. They’d wrap your legs in them, then wrap plastic around them to keep the heat in.
“Two of my cousins from Springfield got it from a friend of theirs, and then both sides of my family came to our house for the holiday,” she said last week.
All five children in Blick’s family ended up with polio, a viral disease that inflames and damages nerve cells in the lower brain and spinal cord, leading to paralysis.
“I got it the least,” Blick said. “I got it in my lower back, and first noticed it in my right shin.”
With polio eradicated in the United States since 1994, most people today don’t realize the horror a polio diagnosis caused in a community.
“No one came to visit our family, and the Brown County fair was cancelled that year because of the polio scare,” Blick said.
“I was going to country school at the time. When it got out we had polio, the parents closed the school for a week,” she said. “When they opened it again, it was so clean the water fountain just shone. The parents had scrubbed every inch of that school.”
Blick was sent to the Sister Kenny Institute in Minneapolis, a world leader in polio treatment at the time.
Leaving for the institute was more traumatic for her mother than it was for Blick.
“My mother had made me a cowgirl outfit, and I remember her taking a picture of me wearing it on the porch before I left for the institute,” she said. “My mother later said she was crying when she took the picture because she didn’t know if I’d ever come home.”
It was a legitimate fear; polio treatment was traumatic even in mild cases.
“In those days, you just didn’t leave your child. It just wasn’t done,” Blick said. “But when you got to the Sister Kenny Institute, you said good-bye to your parents, and were taken straight to the contagion ward. You might not see your parents for months.
“My cousin Doug was younger than I was. He had just taken his first steps when he was diagnosed with polio — and his parents had to just leave him at the institute.”
Patients were treated three times a day with steaming hot packs, and often felt they were being tortured instead of helped.
“The hot packs were heavy wool, very hot and wet. They’d wrap your legs in them, then wrap plastic around them to keep the heat in.
“I only remember one time when I didn’t cry, and the lady said, ‘I guess we didn’t do you any good today.’”
Blick was able to return to country school and finish second grade because she wasn’t contagious any more.
She grew up, married, and lived her life with only a few side effects from her ordeal.
Then, in the early 1990s, a new set of health problems hit.
“I wasn’t sure what was going on, and saw articles on post-polio syndrome, and thought ‘Oh, that explains it,’” said Blick.
At the time, Blick had a job that required her to walk. She eventually had to give it up.
Visiting with the Gazette last week, Blick sat at her dining room table and wanted to cross her legs. She had to lift her leg to do it.
“I don’t have the strength to cross my legs any more. I don’t like having to do this, but I don’t want the leg to weaken,” she said.
“My back got chilled last night, and it hurts to breathe even now. I wear a vest to keep my back warm, and if I go someplace chilly, I dress excessively warm. Now I sit with blankets across my legs almost all the time.
“It’s hard to describe how it feels when I get cold. It’s like the bone is cold.”
After years of being able to walk, Blick now relies on crutches and an electric chair to help get around.
“Even nowadays, I’m supposed to pace myself, but when I’m in my garden it’s hard to stop,” she said.
“I have two gardens and seven flower beds. I try to walk as much as I can, but sometimes I’ll be outside and not be able to get back to the house. I’ll think, “I should have used my scooter,’ but I don’t want to give in.”
“The weird thing is, I feel it real bad twice a year, during the equinox,” Blick said. “The last two weeks I’ve been in extreme misery.”
Blick has been to several post-polio support groups, and learned she’s not alone. She was astonished to learn her problem with her health getting worse during the equinox isn’t unique.
Post-polio syndrome is progressive; it’s only going to get worse for Blick.
“I’m becoming weaker; I can’t open jars any more. It doesn’t affect just your legs. It affects your whole body.
“It’s hard for others to understand. People want to know if I should be doing more sometimes, but I couldn’t. It just wasn’t there.”
