Fran Goldman was twenty-five years old when the polio vaccine was rolled out in 1955. Three years before that, 60,000 American children were infected and more than 3000 died. Thousands, including Franklin Roosevelt, the American president, were paralyzed by the dreadful virus. Parents anxiously tried to protect their children from the crippling disease, ordering them to stay away from swimming pools and movie theatres. Children were asked to wash hands repeatedly. Some polio-afflicted children were consigned to life in an iron lung, a type of ventilator that enveloped a child’s body to ease breathing.
Fran Goldman lived in Cincinnati then. She remembers
taking her children to the local school. The vaccination was extremely well organized,
the children were lined up quickly and it was over. It was hard to believe
those few seconds would protect her children’s lives, they would be able to play,
go to the pool and cinema without fear.
*****
Fran is now 90 years old and lives on her own in
Seattle. Since the covid vaccines became available, she had been trying to get
an appointment. After hours on the phone, if she managed to get through, she heard
sorry not yet possible. Her daughter Ruth living in Buffalo, and a friend in
Arizona tried to do it online. Fran also tried the local grocery stores with
in-store pharmacies. Nothing. Finally, last Friday, on 12 Feb. after answering
several questions, she got a Sunday morning appointment, fairly unexpectedly. This
was a moment she had waited for, for weeks.
That same evening, a snowstorm started. Outside her
condo building, foot-high snow gathered. She looked out and realized it would
be impossible to drive (yes, she still drives). The Seattle children’s hospital
where she had an appointment was 5 km (3 miles) away. On Saturday morning, she
decided to go for a practice walk. To see if she could walk the following day
for vaccination. She put on her boots, grabbed two walking sticks and set out.
She had undergone a hip replacement surgery last year.
*****
Sunday, 14 February was equally bad. This was declared
as one of Seattle’s snowiest weekends on record. Fran had covered two thirds of
the distance yesterday, and confident she could do it on the hilly, un-ploughed
roads had returned home. On Sunday morning, she dressed in fleece pants and a short-sleeved
shirt so that the nurse could reach her arm easily. Over that a fleece zip-up,
then a down-coat, and a rain-jacket on top. She put on her snow boots, grabbed
the two walking sticks and headed out. Yesterday’s footmarks and tracks had disappeared,
covered with more snow.
The trail was challenging, but she made it to her
appointment, just five minutes late. That was lucky, because had she reached
early, as per protocol, she would have been asked to wait in a car. And there
was no car.
She waited for fifteen minutes after the shot, as
required. Putting on the three layers, she walked back the five km once again.
The ten km walk would not have been as difficult, she said, if she didn’t have
a replaced hip.
*****
Compared to the polio vaccine experience in 1955, this
year’s has been far disorganized, and messy, she felt. But it was as critical
for her to take the covid vaccine as it was for her kids to take the polio
vaccine then. In a month’s time, she is due for a second shot. If weather doesn’t
allow it, she is willing to walk the ten km once again.
Since the pandemic began, Fran has been ordering food
online and picking it up in her car. She has taken a variety of Zoom classes
(currently learning about post-World War II China). She hasn’t yet seen Silas,
her great-grandson born six months ago. Neither has she held Logan, another
great-grandson, two years old. The vaccine was important for her to feel
comfortable. “I can’t wait to be able to hold them” she said.
Ravi
wonderful
ReplyDeleteशूर महिला
ReplyDelete