Polio Outbreaks in the Early 20th Century

Note:  The following is excerpted from the book “…..in Sickness or in Health…..”, written/edited by Frederick J. Blahnik.

 

Polio Outbreaks in the Early 20th Century

 

“The fear of polio was a fear of something you had no defense against, something that hit without logic or reason. Yesterday, it was the man down the block.  Today it could be you or your children.”


—Larry Alexander, 1954

 

 

            Poliomyelitis was without doubt the most dreaded common disease facing the world in the first half of the twentieth century, oftentimes hastily reaching epidemic proportions and thereafter raising absolute havoc.  Effects of the malady manifested not only amongst those unlucky enough to come down with the refractory sickness, but it additionally engendered terrifying angst and fear amongst those who were NOT directly afflicted.

Polio struck hardest in the months of July, August, and September, and seemingly surfaced at random irrespective of geographic region or an area’s population density.  The disease caused tremendous alarm and generated near hysteria, principally because no one knew the means by which the ailment spread or why children were far more susceptible to contracting it than adults.  Furthermore, there was no effective antidote to combat the pernicious, fast-spreading organism which fathered polio, only some essentially medieval treatments targeted at symptoms the germ produced.

The first known polio outbreak in the United States occurred in Vermont in 1895.  In 1916 New York City experienced its first large-scale polio epidemic, resulting in 9,000 confirmed cases and 2,343 deaths.  The nationwide toll for that landmark year was 27,000 polio cases, resulting in a staggering 6,000 deaths.  The number of polio cases and fatalities stemming from this insidious disease increased each decade thereafter, finally culminating in 1952 with 57,628 recorded polio cases.

In the midst of a polio epidemic, individual rights were often at odds with the prevailing public requirement for general safety.  Travel between infected cities was closely monitored and restricted, and public health officials vigorously quarantined infected homes to ensure exposed individuals were effectively removed from all public contact. Inasmuch as these officials were dealing with the unknown and typically operating in a state of ongoing near-panic, an established protocol for length of quarantine was never firmly established, although the efficacy of sequestration as a means of retarding passage of the polio organism from person to person was never empirically demonstrated to any reputable epidemiologist’s satisfaction.  There was also frequent enforced separation between family members during the early acute phase of the polio disease process, lasting anywhere from ten to fourteen days.

Hospitals treating polio patients operated under strict, orderly regimens, while nurses enforced military-like discipline on their wards to guard against casual transmission of the deadly poliovirus.  When a polio epidemic was at its apogee, everyone associated with caring for patients was under an enormous amount of stress owing to the inherently bleak prognosis facing the sufferer.  Moreover, this morbid drama was further heightened by the pathogen’s relatively easy transmission to hospital help staff.  A depressing situation indeed, and one that was lastly exacerbated by a little voice in the background invariably whispering in everyone’s ear that the poliovirus was king, that it was omnipotent, and that there was no cure for it in sight.

That is, until the decade of the 1950s prayerfully dawned, bringing with it immunology saviors Jonas Salk and Albert Sabin and a rapturous, long-overdue end to the cruel madness. [1]

[1] The factual information found herein was largely derived from the Internet website http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polio Outbreaks.

Expanding Waistline

  • Trying to slow down the passage of time is about as futile as trying to pick up a greasy slice of daylight between your thumb and forefinger. More than impractical.  Impossible to do.  You measure the passage of time not with a clock or a calendar or a wristwatch, but with the proliferation of wrinkles on your face, the stealthy invasion of gray in the little hair that remains on top of your head, the increasing number of little holes you must skip over on your belt in order to keep your trousers hitched up and still be able to breathe, and the tectonic ongoing shift occurring within your brain as pragmatism gradually replaces youthful idealism.  Time ultimately changes us—Certainly not vice versa; not even a hint of that!—irrespective of any superhuman measures we may take to repel or even slow its surge.

Giving Thanks

  • If we could somehow go back and live our young lives over again with the wisdom acquired through the aging process, they would inarguably be substantially more boring than we remember now for the obvious reason we would lead them far more cautiously and with markedly greater constraints. The recklessness of youth gradually wanes and then disappears altogether as years and then decades begin to accumulate under our belts.  That is just the natural progression of “maturity”; there is nothing anyone can do to alter this predetermined outcome.  Therefore…..thank God we aren’t allowed to live our lives backwards; those vivid memories featuring youthful mischief and mayhem go a long way in sustaining a person now during long, drawn-out periods of and turpitude and vapidity!

Rebirth

  • When the day is over, retire it and put it to bed permanently. Tomorrow dawns all new; tomorrow represents a rebirth.  Who knows:  Today’s problems could well turn out to be tomorrow’s opportunities.  Each night while we sleep, we are fitted with a slightly different lens through which we view the world around us when we awake the next morning.  Our Universe seldom looks exactly the same from one day to the next—Stars are exploding and dying all the time and black holes are chomping up anything witless enough to wander too closely to their event horizons!—nor should things be any different for a person blessed with curiosity and inquisitiveness on a tiny planet hidden off in a distant corner of one of its nearly infinite galaxies.

Taming the Dragon

  • Anger is that Mephistophelian dragon lurking dormant beneath your skin—a perfectly passive creature ninety nine percent of the time—but one that erupts and strikes out in blind fury if he is somehow awakened from his slumber and then poked and prodded for little or no reason. Trying to keep this ill-natured beast locked up safely and out of mischief forever is about as easy as attempting to shove a wet Italian noodle up a raging wildcat’s constipated asshole.  So don’t even try, and instead concentrate on taming his more violent outbursts.  The anger dragon can never be slayed outright, but with appropriate training and discipline he can be controlled.

Abject Despair

  • …..there wasn’t much she could do about the shitty situation at hand, so she just started crying. Crying like a fuckin’ big baby, yes, that’s what she did.  Her hands were figuratively tied behind her back and the options she was facing amounted to absolutely nothing—NOTHING, I TELL YA!…..so what else is a sane person supposed to do in an impossible situation such as that?  Huh?!?!  Any suggestions?!?!  C’mon, no better ideas from any of you learned readers?!?!  Well, okay then…..  So, yeah, that’s right, it’s agreed upon…..I guess you just feel sorry for yourself and bawl your lungs out like a fuckin’ baby.  Just feel horribly sorry for yourself and curse the gods above and hope that somebody takes pity on you and maybe offers you an encouraging word and a helping hand to carry you through your time of suffering.  It’s either that or go searching for the nearest gun holding at least one bullet in its chamber, and she wasn’t anywhere near the point of desperation where she felt like doing anything THAT drastic and stupid.  And thus she cried on wailingly, lugubriously—with no end in sight to her abject despair.…..

Everything

  • The nighttime sky festooned with one million twinkling stars set against an eerily black nothingness that extends forever and ever in every direction one looks and instinctively conjures thoughts of infinity, despite the fact infinity is a concept which is impossible to logically comprehend for mortal beings…..that celestial panorama high overhead inspires raw wonderment and abject loneliness in all but the hopelessly jaded and the hopelessly imbecilic. We of the human species populating planet Earth are inconsequential and constitute nothing against the backdrop of an infinite Universe yet, because of this stark reality, we are EVERYTHING ……

Wishful Thinking

  • …..she knew there were 365 days in a year, but the only one she had any interest in was the one sitting before her because she understood—even though a surprising number of people don’t and never will—that it was the only day she could directly influence and wield any authentic control over. The others?  They were just ghostly apparitions, ridiculous IOUs on the future, figments of a gaudily wishful imagination.  She no more owned those entities than she could lay legitimate claim to owning the air we breathe or the four oceans of the world…..

The Impostor

  • The future is far more frightening from a distance. Up close—when you’re finally there and caught up in the midst of it and it magically transforms into the present—that big bully off in the distance loses much of his mojo and suddenly appears quite ordinary and vulnerable and ripe for the taking.  Opportunities seem to cryptically manifest where once stood only an endless string of doubts and uncertainties.  Fear subsides and makes a mad dash for cover, while optimism and excitement wed to unbridled anticipation rush in to fill the vacuum it leaves behind.

Crossing the Bridge

  • Thinking in and of itself is connaturally worthless. Knowing is not.  The word “knowledge” was invented for a reason; no one ever thought to invent the word “thinkledge” because there has never been any value attached to it.  Merely thinking something does not educate or advance a worthy cause.  Knowledge does and frequently will.  Knowing something—Anything!—is important, but simply thinking things has no merit whatsoever.  The bridge separating thought from knowledge may be quite lengthy and is not always the easiest to navigate and ultimately cross over, yet it is essential this bridge be crossed if you desire to be regarded as anything other than a dullard, a dreamer, or a fraud.