September 1959 Chomedey Laval, I am three years old, the last of a family of three children, with parents too extraordinary native of the Magdalen Islands.
One certain afternoon; I said to mom, my heart and head hurt; I am not well, she is going to tell me to lie down in my bed (what a privilege) I will come to see you soon. I fall while going there and mom comes to raise me up.
She comes up to me and says, "You don't make jokes like that!" She picks me up and I fall again. Then it all happened: telephone, doctor at home, ambulance, direction Louis Pasteur hospital. I still hear the sound of the sirens. I won't see my family again soon. There was an epidemic in Montreal, I had received a vaccine but I didn't have time to receive the booster doses. At least that's what I was told.
I was put in isolation. For several months I would see my mother once a week through a small fence covered with a square of wood that was opened and closed after her departure.
I can't even touch it. Sad reality! The rest of the time is spent in exercises and parallel bars to learn to walk with a brace heavier than me. Back home for Christmas, I found my family and especially my other half, my sister Lise, who will always be there for me. She is only a few months older than me. My left foot is deformed and completely paralyzed, my left knee is very weak and arched backwards. I have a big heavy iron brace up to my waist and I get around with crutches, and I am now four years old.
No health insurance
There was no health insurance at that time. My parents were helped financially by the March of Dimes. I remember my mother telling me that without their help, they would have been ruined by the cost of rehabilitation services. I myself, with my bank, solicited people at the St-Martin Shopping Center in Laval, the response was excellent.
I have visited the Montreal Rehabilitation Center frequently, it is a privilege to go there since I spend all day with Mom. We didn't have a car, so we went by bus with several connections. We dine at the restaurant, a luxury I had not yet experienced; I love my mom!
In this center, I saw atrocities such as children younger than me moving around on scooters with their hands. Especially the time when mom went to the wrong floor, there was a gentleman, without arms or legs, lying on a bed...I thought I was lucky to have only one brace on my left leg, even though I didn't really like my brown baby boots...
I learned to socialize and walk without a crutch a long time ago. I have to go to school now and my mother is told that I will have to go to L'École Victor Doré, for handicapped people. NO! Claims my mother, so resilient. She will go to the same school as her sister, period. I vaguely remember a conversation with a nun and my mother.
I guess I had given the right answers because I remember that we were leaving on foot, my sister and I, with our lunch box on her left, her right hand welded to mine.
My first years of school were very difficult with a lack of maturity! I didn't really understand the principle, but it didn't matter, as soon as I was in fourth grade everything was unblocked and afterwards, I was always among the first in class. I loved school, but walking to school, especially at that time when there was so much snow, was not easy. I had big rubber boots over my big brown boots, attached to my long brace, all held together by a belt around my waist. It was so heavy to drag around and so cold in the winter, phew! When spring came, I found the joy of walking without shoe covers.
In 1967, I was in the 6th grade. Mom walked into my classroom and picked me up.
St. Justine's hospital called, you're going to have surgery tomorrow; you have to go now. I'm going to make you a nice dinner my dear, I threw up my lunch. I had surgery the next day and it was a long series of multiple surgeries and terrible pain. They took place in 1967, 1969, 1971, 1973, 1976, 1990 and twice in 1991.
I hated surgery; I just wanted to get back to my normal life with my friends. I had learned to dance and I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to do it again.
In 2010I had a fall at home: fracture of the left hip, the one from polio. I was fitted with screws, but according to the doctor there was so much osteoporosis that these screws were in the void, I was 1 year in a wheelchair.
I had to wait for the bone callus to form around the screws. I waited but the pain never went away.
In 2015The pain was so intense that I went to see a doctor with the conclusion that my bone was now completely necrotic; these screws had to be removed as soon as possible. Another surgery and not the least: while going there, I had a car accident causing me three fractured ribs always on the left side, I was still operated. The pain lasted until 2016 when I was finally fitted with a Total Hip Replacement (THR).
Since then, oh miracle, no more pain!
I have made a life for myself through all of this, and now with our ZOOM sessions through Polio Quebec, I get to talk and see polio survivors. Seeing them, reading about them and hearing their stories has made me want to share my own. Now it's your turn!
By Monique Vigneault
