Small Steps: The Year I Got Polio

2: Paralyzed from the Neck Down

My mouth felt full of sawdust; my lips stuck together in the corners. As I opened my eyes, I saw a glass of ice water on the table beside my bed. It was exactly what I needed, but when I tried to reach the water, my right arm did not move.

I tried again. Nothing happened. I tried with my left arm. Nothing. I tried to bend my knees so I could roll on my side, but my legs were two logs, stiff and unmoving. I was too weak to even lift my head off the pillow.

"Help!"

A nurse ran in.

"I can't reach the water," I said. "There's something wrong with my hands. I'm thirsty, but when I try to get the glass..."

"Hush," she said. She lifted the glass and slipped a straw between my lips. "There you are. Have your drink."

I took only a sip. "What's wrong with my arms and legs?" I asked. "Why can't I move?"

"You have polio," she said, as if that explained everything.

"But I could move before I fell asleep. I walked in here. I had polio then, and I could still move."

"Don't try to talk. Save your energy." She held the straw to my lips again, and I drank the glass of water. "I'll be right back," she said when I finished.

She returned quickly, with a doctor. While he examined me, the nurse held a clipboard and made notes.

"Move your right hand," the doctor said.

I tried; my hand did not move.

"Try to wiggle your fingers."

My finger lay like an empty glove.

He put his hand around my wrist and lifted my arm a foot off the bed. "Hold your arm in the air when I let go," he said.

I could feel his hand on my wrist, but when he let go, my arms flopped down. I felt like the Raggedy Ann doll I'd left on my bed at home.

He pulled back the sheet. I wore a short hospital gown rather than my own pajamas. I did not remember putting it on, and I wonder who had undressed me.

"Try to lift your left leg."

I closed my eyes and concentrated. My legs remained on the bed.

"Now try to lift your right leg."

My right leg stayed where it was.

"Can you wiggle your toes?"

I could not.

Each time the doctor asked me to move a part of my body and I could not move it, my terror increased. I could talk, I could open and close my eyes, .and I could turn my head from side to side on my pillow, but otherwise I could not move at all.

The doctor ran a wooden tongue depressor up the bottoms of my feet. I wanted to kick it away, but my feet wouldn't budge.

He placed his hands on my ribs. "Intercostal expansion is poor," he said.

I felt as if I needed a translator. "What does that mean?" I asked.

"The muscles which expand the rib cage when you breath are weak," the nurse explained.

The doctor said, "Diagnosis is acute anterior poliomyelitis. The patient is paralyzed from neck down."

I did not need a translator for his last sentence.

The doctor left, saying he would return in an hour to check me.

"We'll keep you comfortable," the nurse said, "and I'll tell your parents about the paralysis."