Then Edna told us that she had been going out with this dreamboat from her school to movies and dances. She said he was very dreamy and played hockey and all the other girls were jealous of her. One time during a movie, she told us, he put his arm around her and with his other hand turned her face to his. And then he kissed her. Julie gasped at this point, so she must not have plugged her ears after all. That was it, Edna said, but Thelma told her that wasn’t anything at all! If that’s all there was to kissing, what was the big deal and why did the lights have to be off? So Edna started to giggle and told us that the boy had chapped lips and they were rough on hers and even though he tried to part her lips with his tongue, she kept them firmly closed. But she said she still really enjoyed kissing him, but she hasn’t seen him since she got ill and she started to cry and said that no one would ever kiss her again.
Thelma swatted the lights on and wheeled over to Edna’s bed and somehow managed to lean over and kiss Edna’s cheek, and said, “There, I kissed you.” Edna said that was sweet, but she really wants to kiss a boy.
One of the student nurses came in to clear our trays before bed and saw us all crying so she turned on the radio and found some dance music to cheer us up. She looked quite bewildered when we cried even harder. She didn’t know it was because we knew we’d probably never dance again. She wouldn’t know because until you have dancing or walking or running taken away from you, you have no idea how it feels.
I forgot to say that Ann wrote that she is doing a lot of lace collars and she thanked me so much for being the one who got her the work. I don’t know what she means. I didn’t get her the work — she got the work herself! She is the one who does such lovely tatting.
Friday, October 29, 1937
We had our party this afternoon. We couldn’t have it on the real Hallowe’en because it was on a Sunday, and tomorrow Lillian and Dr. Lear wouldn’t be here. It was so much fun you would never have known we were in a hospital and we were all sick. The student nurses helped put up our decorations and the doctors brought us a pumpkin they had carved! Dr. Lear said it was a chance to try out their new surgical instruments before using them on the patients. I think he was joking.
We had punch and cookies and lots of Hallowe’en candy. (Julie isn’t feeling too well from all the candy!) We got to use our wheelchairs and go back and forth between the girls’ and boys’ wards. Even Eugene got to have some punch and candy. One of the nurses painted Eugene’s face green so he looked like Frankenstein inside his iron lung.
Henry had made himself a costume — he had on black pants, a white shirt and had put red paint all over himself. He made us guess what he was and we guessed a monster, then an accident victim and finally he relented and told us he was a newspaper! Black and white and red (read) all over! We played Pin the Leg-Bone on the Skeleton! Everyone thought it was very funny because I pinned the bone next to the skeleton’s arm!
Then Henry convinced me to tip my wheelchair back onto two wheels. I did it, though I would have fallen right backward if Dr. Lear hadn’t grabbed my wheelchair! I still did it. We have strict instructions not to tip our wheelchairs anymore.
There was only one sad part at the whole party, except it wasn’t really sad — Henry is going home tomorrow. We all exchanged addresses so we could write to each other. Julie wondered if it was proper for her to write to Henry and I said he was just like any other penpal.
Six days to go.
Saturday, October 30, 1937
Thelma has to have surgery on Monday. Dr. Lear didn’t want to tell us before because he didn’t want to spoil our Hallowe’en party. He told her last night after the party. The doctors are going to cut the tendons on her ankles to try to ease the stiffness in her feet. (Thelma has drop foot.) She is very upset and keeps saying she is not having surgery. It’s been very quiet in here today. We’re all tired from the party.
I’m afraid they will come in and tell me I will need surgery and I can’t go home.
Henry came in and said goodbye this morning and that made us feel even worse. Whenever we felt gloomy Henry would come in and make us laugh. I bet he is with his family right now making them laugh.
P.S. I did it! I wrote Ann and told her how bad I felt that I hadn’t been a better friend. I told her everything — how I was mean throwing mud at her and saying she had germs and that maybe God had given me polio germs to show me how mean I was. I was crying while I wrote the letter, but I feel better now. I told Ann if she didn’t want to be my friend, I understood. Then I gave it to one of the student nurses to put with the mail. It’s strange, but I feel like I’m lighter, like I could fly if I had wings.
Sunday, October 31, 1937
It’s Hallowe’en today, though it was celebrated last night, as you can’t have Hallowe’en on a Sunday. Lillian said it’s because Sunday is a church day.
Edna’s parents came to visit her this afternoon. They could tell we were a gloomy bunch and tried to cheer us up, but we just weren’t feeling cheerful. Thelma says she doesn’t understand why she has no choice in anything that happens in her life. She said she had no choice about getting polio, no choice about her parents giving her to the government to take care of, where she goes, and whether or not she has surgery.
Head Nurse Stanfield was supervising the student nurses get us ready for bed and prepare Thelma for her surgery in the morning. They put a nightgown on her that had a red cross on the front — that meant she was the one having surgery so the hospital didn’t make a mistake and cut open the wrong person! Suddenly Nurse Stanfield said that Thelma did have a choice; she could choose whether or not to get better and be the best person she can, and be a kind and productive woman and perhaps make a difference in someone else’s life rather than bemoaning her own. That’s the most I ever heard Nurse Stanfield say.
Then Thelma said it didn’t matter what she became or whether she got better, that no one even cared what happened to her.
We were all quiet for a moment, then I realized something and I said, “I care.” And I really meant it. I care that Thelma gets better. And that Edna finds a new boyfriend, and Julie goes home to her family, and that Eugene gets out of the iron lung. Then Edna said, “I care,” and Julie said, “I care.” Then Nurse Stanfield said that she cared. She cared very much because Thelma was a smart, talented young woman and she hated to see all that talent go to waste.
I read more of Heidi to the girls tonight to take our minds off of Thelma’s surgery. Thelma said that she felt she was just like Heidi, not wanted by her family and sent away. After the lights were out, Thelma said that she hates mushy stuff, like Heidi and the grandmother, and we girls saying we cared about her, but I don’t think she really does. Then Edna pointed out that in the end, despite her hardships, Heidi had made many new friends and she had a lovely home with her grandfather, plus she thought of making other people happy, like the old grandmother, and didn’t always feel sorry for herself. I think Edna is the loveliest person in the world (other than Mother), because she never (or very seldom) feels sorry for herself, but tries to make other people feel better. I wish I could be more like Edna.
Four days until I go home.
November 1937
Monday, November 1, 1937
When we woke up this morning, Thelma had already gone to surgery. We never even got a chance to say goodbye and we don’t know how long it will be before we see her again! Every time I look at her empty bed, I feel a pang in my heart.
In the afternoon, I went down the hall in my wheelchair to visit Eugene. Eugene says he likes my visits because I remind him of Saskatoon and he doesn’t feel so far away from home. He says his family is on Relief and his mother can’t come to visit him as she can’t afford the trip. I helped him with his Spelling homework. He’s really quite smart. I hope he gets out of the iron lung soon.
Monday, November 1, 1937, before supper
Dr. Lear came in and told us that Thelma is fine after her surgery, but will be in the recovery room until tomorrow.
Then he said that Thelma wanted to see me. I started to get into my wheelchair, but Dr. Lear told me no, no more wheelchairs, I had to get used to going places on my crutches. I guess that means I’ll not be able to do any more wheelies!
On the way to the recovery room to see Thelma, Dr. Lear told me he was very proud of my achievements. I told him I only had three days until I went home. He wanted to know who told me that. I said that the government said they would only pay for three weeks of care for me. He said he thought the government could extend that for another week, but I said that I was going home in three days! And I mean it! I almost started to cry and Dr. Lear said he’d be in to talk to me this evening. He can talk all he wants to, but I’m still going home in three days.
It took a long while and I was pretty tired, but I eventually made it to the recovery room. Thelma looked pretty white when I saw her and her legs had casts on them almost to her hips! I felt so badly for her. She was sleeping, but woke up when I came in. The nurse said I could only stay a moment.
Thelma said she wanted to thank me for saying I cared and asked me to pass on her thank you to the girls, as she didn’t want to do it herself because she hated that mushy kind of stuff. Then she asked me why I wanted to learn to walk, so I thought about it a bit and then I told her that when I was on the train coming to Regina, a woman had said that I was a poor child and how the woman meant I was poor because I could not walk. I told her how at that moment I seemed to feel a sort of nudge telling me to get better because I didn’t want anyone calling me a “poor child” ever again. There is nothing poor about me. I have a really good brain (I think) and I do well at school and I think I could be something great when I grow up. (I don’t think I will become a pilot like Amelia Earhart. I like looking at the sky, but I think I like the ground better!) Then Thelma said she didn’t want to be a poor child either.
I had to leave then so she could sleep. I feel good inside now, like I am a good friend and a nice person. I definitely like this feeling better than the one I had when I threw mud at Ann. I will never hurt anyone again like that.
Monday, November 1, 1937, evening
I can’t go home until next Monday! I have to stay here another whole week! Dr. Lear says I need to be perfect on my crutches, including going up and down stairs, because he doesn’t want to send me home just to have me fall and be back in the hospital again. One part of me knows he is right, but one part of me is mad as the dickens. I miss home so much.
I pulled my blankets over my head and cried after he left, until Edna told me to get my head out from under the sheets where she could see me. I told her I felt bad crying in front of her when I knew she couldn’t go home for a long time, and Thelma could never go home. Edna said not to be so silly, that each one of us needed to cry when necessary and then she told me she had every intention of going home for Christmas and then she said it was a surprise, but Thelma was coming home for Christmas with her! Edna said her dad and uncle are building a ramp up to the front door so she can bring her wheelchair into the house and her mother is emptying out extra furniture from the rooms so she and Thelma can get around easier in their chairs. One of the nurses overheard Edna and warned her that she might not be able to go home for Christmas, but Edna said it was over six weeks away and she planned to work very hard so her leg splints could come off, too.
Today Lillian let me practise on the crutches. We began with up and down on the single step into the storage room.
I never thought about needing a ramp to get into the house with a wheelchair. In fact, now that I think of it, I am glad that I can use my crutches, because our house is very small and wouldn’t take a wheelchair very easily. And my bedroom is upstairs. It’s funny, but when you are well, you never give stuff like this a second thought, but when you’re ill or suddenly you can’t go up and down stairs or get around easily, it is a really big problem. Even swatting on the lights is a nuisance.
Julie is being discharged on Friday. She came three days before me and is leaving three days before me. Her mother and father are both coming to get her. I wonder if her mother is a scared mouse like Julie — but a scared mouse in a nice way. No one could help but like Julie.
Tuesday, November 2, 1937, evening
Today Lillian helped me go up and down stairs with my crutches. She stood in front of me as I went down each step in a real staircase so I wouldn’t go tumbling down. I was really scared to try the first step, and I had to summon all my courage to swing down, I was that frightened of falling. It’s ridiculous. I’ve been going up and down stairs all my life and now I have to learn how to do it all over again! At least I can now get into my wheelchair and go down the hall myself, and I can use the bathroom when I need to. Edna still has to use a bedpan. She tells Lillian to rub her legs extra hard so she gets better faster.
I walked up and down the hall for half an hour after I went down the stairs. Lillian said I was going to wear myself out and to only practise for a little bit at a time. I am determined to be in perfect shape so I can go home. Julie sometimes walks with me, though the corridors aren’t really big enough for two of us to go side by side, as we have to swing our legs out and the crutches need room. I wonder how I’ll ever get down the halls at school!
Next Sunday Mother will take the train down and Lillian will show her how to take care of my legs; how to put on the braces and how to massage the muscles so they don’t get too stiff; and how to put the crutches on and help me practise walking. Then the next day she and I will take the late afternoon train back home. It’s been all arranged. But I still feel wobbly inside in case something happens and I can’t go. I have my fingers crossed, but I’m not counting the days anymore. It might be superstitious, but I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll be here another week.
Thelma came back from her surgery this morning. She has to keep the casts on her feet and legs for six weeks, then they will come off and she should have less pain in her feet and ankles, though she will always have drop foot and probably always have to be in a wheelchair.
This afternoon we were all a bit tired, so we worked on our tatting. Thelma is the best at tatting, Edna is the messiest, and Julie and I are in between, though I am quite pleased with my cross bookmark. I think Grandpa will like it. I should have it done by the time I go home.
Lillian is also learning tatting, as she is going to have it as part of her physical therapy program to help people keep their fingers exercised. I felt really good that something I showed her will help people. I must remember, though, to tell Ann, because she was the one who showed me. It is really funny how one person’s actions can change so much and touch so many other people — Ann’s grandmother taught her to do tatting, Ann taught me, I taught the girls and Lillian and now it is going to be part of Lillian’s exercise program for polio patients.
It was peaceful here this afternoon.
Wednesday, November 3, 1937
When we woke up this morning it was very dark in our ward. We looked out the window and it was like a blizzard. I couldn’t even see across the street for snow. I hope it doesn’t do this next Monday because I’m going home even if I have to get a sled and dogs to take me! Every year when we get the first snow, Edmund and I go outside and make snowballs. Not this year.
I practised walking up and down the hall and stairs for an hour today.
And another big change. When Lillian came in and asked Thelma if she would like her back rubbed, Thelma said yes! Then Thelma said, “No one is calling me a poor child.” Everyone looked surprised, but only I knew what she meant. Lillian was very excited by how co-operative Thelma was today. I think Thelma might be co-operative most days now.
I got a letter from home today and there was a letter tucked inside it from Ann. She says that she is making collars for some of Aunt Ella’s friends who admired Jean’s new collar. Ann said the extra money is coming in handy and she knew it was meant to be that she and I would get to know each other. She says Yanni has been moved up to high school because his English is
much better now.
But the biggest news is that Mother says she has a surprise for me when I get home. I’m dying to know what it could be! Julie says maybe I am getting a pet dog. Somehow I don’t think that is the surprise. Edmund always wanted a dog, but Mother said we children were enough to take care of without a dog thrown into the mix. We’re all trying to guess what the surprise is to be.
I have to go now and read Heidi. We are nearly done. Edna says it is a wonderful story and Julie says when I read she can see it playing like a movie in her head, so now she doesn’t have to go to a movie, she can just read. I think I know what she means.
Thelma just asked me why I wasn’t counting the days until I go home. I told her I felt bad telling them when I was going home and she said not to be silly, they were all happy to see me go. Then Edna said, “That wasn’t very nice!” and Thelma got all flustered and said she meant she was happy I was going home, not happy I was not going to be at the hospital anymore. It’s funny to see Thelma flustered because she is always so level-headed. We all had a good laugh. I can’t believe it, but I’m going to miss the hospital — the people, not the hospital or treatment. I told her I had five days left.
Wednesday, November 3, 1937, evening
Dr. Lear came in and told us he is returning to Saskatoon to help set up a polio ward there, and then he is moving to Toronto to work at Connaught Laboratories. He said he is going into the research area of polio as he has decided the only way to get rid of this disease is to know everything about it and how it affects the human body and then maybe he can help make a vaccine to prevent polio. Then Dr. Lear told me privately that he is marrying Nurse Betty and she is going to Toronto with him. I knew they loved each other! In my prayers tonight I asked that Dr. Lear find a cure for polio.
To Stand on My Own Page 9