Small Steps: The Year I Got Polio

“How could I have polio? I didn’t know anyone who had the disease. Where did the virus come from? How did it get in my body? I didn’t want to have polio; I didn’t want to leave my family and go to a hospital one hundred miles from home.”

This emotional spiral evokes pathos for Peg’s situation by accurately portraying the heightened emotional state and the shock that comes with the diagnosis of a life-threatening, debilitating disease. Peg has more questions than answers, and the desire at the forefront of her mind is to seek love from her family and comfort in the familiar.

“Don’t think about being paralyzed, I told myself. But how could I think of anything else? The nurse had forgotten to pull the sheet back up, and the skimpy hospital gown did not even reach my knees. I wanted to cover myself, but I couldn’t. Feeling vulnerable and exposed, I grew more panicky. What if the hospital caught fire? How would I get out?”

The simple act of the nurse forgetting to pull up Peg’s sheet is so miniscule to her yet so significant to Peg, who can’t move on her own. For the first time in her life, Peg is completely at the mercy of the actions of those around her and must rely on them to control her body and provide comfort, yet the heedlessness of the nurse leaves Peg feeling vulnerable and exposed, which in turn leads to panic. 

“This is backward, I thought. I walked into the hospital by myself and now, three days later, I can’t move at all. Hospitals are supposed to make you get better, not worse.”

Peg’s regression at the onset of her polio, despite catching the disease in its earliest stage, depicts the nonlinear nature of recovery and highlights the beginning of the series of highs and lows of Peg’s progress, for she will get worse before she gets better. Her indignance at the perceived failure of the hospital when she leaves with paralysis after walking in on her own accurately represents the tumultuous emotions that occur during the onset of critical illness.

“While the attendants opened the ambulance doors and prepared to load me in, I heard a buzzing sound. A mosquito was flying around my head. Zzzzt. Zzzzt. I turned my face from side to side, hoping to discourage it from landing on me, but the buzzing grew louder and then abruptly stopped. I could not swat the mosquito or brush it away, and it bit me on the cheek.

The mundane act of a mosquito landing on and biting Peg is given new weight when she’s physically unable to protect herself by swatting it away. The idea that a small insect could have more power than Peg in this moment fosters feelings of helplessness and dejection.

“I lay there, helpless, staring at her. She could have turned me in that time it took to tell me no, I thought.”

As if the nurse’s insensitive scolding weren’t callous enough, the point Peg makes further villainizes the nurse. In the time it takes her to refuse and berate Peg, she could have turned her to make her more comfortable and moved on to the next patient in need. This passage highlights the cold detachedness that many patients deal with, which can be disheartening and harmful to their moral and overall dedication to keep fighting for their lives.

“I am not, I decided, going to lie here and be helpless for the rest of my life. I’m going to fight. I squinted at the nurse through the plastic oxygen tent. Someday, I vowed, she’ll be sorry. I’ll fight this polio, and I’ll beat it. I’ll walk out of here, and I’ll tell the whole world about the mean nurse who would not help a paralyzed child turn over in bed.”

Young Peg’s personality shines through as she exemplifies the stubbornness, drive, and rebelliousness she becomes known for throughout her recovery. This vow, in addition to the promise she later makes Dr. Bevis, provides her with the extra motivation needed to fuel her fight against polio. It also provides a satisfying full-circle moment because, by including this event in her memoir, Peg is fulfilling her promise to tell the world about the nurse’s callous and inappropriate behavior.

“The first time I had a hot packs treatment, I thought the nurse had made a mistake and heated the water too high. It felt like the hot packs were burning all my skin off. I screamed and cried, even though the nurse assured me I wasn’t being scalded. She said the water had to be that hot in order to help me.”

The exaggeration Peg includes about the heat of the ice packs, as if they “were burning all [her] skin off,” coupled with her screaming and crying, paints a picture of how tortuous these “Torture Time” sessions must have been for Peg and other children with polio. By highlighting the paradoxical nature of a healing treatment that also causes extreme pain, Kehret attempts to debunk into the misconception that recovery is a journey full of joyful victories.

“Perhaps Mrs. Crab expected me to act more mature because I was tall for my age. At 12, I had already reached my full adult height of five feet, eight inches. But I had led a sheltered life in a small Midwestern town […] Except for having my tonsils out, I had never been away from my parents overnight. Because my grandpa lived with us, I had never even stayed with a babysitter. Now I was far from home, in pain, and scared.”

By mentioning that she has never yet spent a night away from home or even had medical visits more serious than tonsil removal, Kehret portrays young Peg’s childhood innocence prior to contracting polio. The information highlights how polio has taken away a typical childhood experience such as Peg’s first sleepover, and showed her the darker side of hospital visits that most people don’t see until they’re adults, if at all. The positive experiences that make up childhood have been stolen from Peg and replaced with pain and fear.

“Still, the days seemed endless. I had plenty of time to lie there and worry. I thought about my school, which was a three-story building that had no ramps or elevators, only stairs. How could I finish school in a wheelchair? What will happen to me? I wondered.”

It’s often suggested that people engage in physical activities to distract themselves from depression and improve their mental health, but Peg’s options are more limited, and thus, this quote reflects the perseveration that ensues when one’s mind is far more active than one’s body. This passage also depicts Emotional Turmoil Throughout Recovery, for although Peg is improving, all she can do is worry about how far she still has to go and whether she will be able to adapt to a world that she no longer fits into.

“Although I was delighted with every small accomplishment, I wondered why I got better and some of the other patients did not. Tommy might spend the rest of his life in the iron lung. It didn’t seem fair.”

Peg’s Emotional Turmoil Throughout Recovery continues as her own recovery progresses. While her fellow polio patients are vital social connections that improve her mental and emotional health, keeping her motivated to fight and live another day, their lack of progress fuels Peg’s guilt at her own successes. The joy of recovery is therefore diminished by her extreme empathy for her friends’ less fortunate situations.

“I had the strange feeling that I was reading about a different lifetime. The other kids were upset about such unimportant things. Just a few weeks earlier, I, too, had worried about clothes and hair and the basketball team. Now none of this mattered. I had faced death. I had lived with excruciating pain and with loneliness and uncertainty about the future. Bad haircuts and lost ball games would never bother me again.”

The first sentence foreshadows the change to come in Peg’s life. Though she doesn’t realize it now, she is already changing into a different version of herself—a version that will view life completely differently than her school friends do. The challenges she has faced have irrevocably begun to alter her values and perceptions, and this trend will continue for the rest of her life.

“I thought about my own parents. I knew they would never refuse to take me home, no matter what condition I was in. For the first time since my paralysis set in, I realized there was something worse than having polio.”

Peg realizes that no matter how bad things seem, even in the face of a deadly and debilitating disease, they can always be worse. The Value of Connection in Recovery is therefore heavily suggested here when Peg implies that the lack of human connection is worse than having polio—a powerful assertion, as polio is the worst thing she has ever had to endure.

“I had never thought of myself as a privileged child […] Now I saw how lucky I was, not only to have parents who loved me, but parents who were able to care for me and to meet my needs, whatever they might be. I had absolutely no doubt that if the doctors said I could go home, I would be out the door the next day.”

Privilege is not only defined by material aspects such as wealth or status, but also by the intangible things often taken for granted, such as family and friends or social support and unconditional love. Peg’s roommates help her realize the importance of these things in a way that she might not have realized for years to come.

“Miss Ballard pushed slowly, applying gentle, steady pressure. Even when it began to hurt, I didn’t tell her right away. Knowing she would stop when I asked her to, I let her push a tiny bit farther. From then on, I always let her go a little beyond the point where it hurt, so I would get well that much faster.”

Miss Ballard’s compassion facilitates a connection with Peg that builds a foundation of comfort, security, and trust. Unlike with Mrs. Crab, Peg feels as though she can rely on Miss Ballard not only to help her heal, but to care for her as a person. This connection makes all the difference in Peg’s attitude toward recovery, for she is finally given the space and time she needs to listen to her body and push herself as far as possible without fear of pain or setbacks.

“A window of understanding opened in my mind, and the breeze of compassion blew in. From that moment on, I was glad to share my visiting family with my roommates.”

Understanding and compassion are at the heart of Peg’s values, both at this point in the memoir and for the rest of her life. The memoir’s narrative emphasizes these values at every turn, through its frank analysis of the nurse who refused to turn Peg in bed, Mrs. Crab, Miss Ballard, and even moments in which Peg herself falters in her goals to remain compassionate. 

“A teenager. I was going to be thirteen years old. I wondered what awaited me in the year to come. A wheelchair of my own? Braces on my legs? Walking sticks? Or perhaps during my thirteenth year I would learn to walk. Perhaps I would go home.”

Peg’s viewpoint shows The Impact of Adversity on Perspective. Instead of worrying about typical teenage things, Peg’s concerns center around her physical abilities and her family. This dynamic represents a significant change in Peg’s values and perception on life; however, she still has a long way to go to fully build her strength and character. Eventually, the importance she places on her physical abilities will shift, and she will come to prioritize her mental and emotional strength more highly than her physical abilities.

“While I waited, I learned to get from my bed to the wheelchair by myself. This new skill was a giant step on the road to independence.”

Without having to take a physical step, Peg illustrates the importance of small steps to recovery. This particular moment can be read as a direct reference to the title of the memoir itself, for whether in a physical or a metaphorical sense, each miniscule step forward represents significant progress in one’s overall journey.

“I was ready to return to the hospital. Trying to get along in the normal world was too hard. I still needed more help than my well-meaning family could provide.”

Peg’s first visit home is a disaster and serves as a reality check. Her recovery has resulted in a massive growth of confidence, yet this visit opens her eyes to the challenges that await her beyond the accommodating boundaries of the Sheltering Arms. While disappointing and disheartening, the visit informs Peg of the ways in which she still needs to improve; it also mentally prepares her for the challenges she will face for the rest of her life. The fact that Peg calls her old life the “normal” world also implies her lingering false belief that she no longer belongs in her home environment.

“I listened impatiently, eager to get on with the business of walking. At last the sticks were in my hands, and I was on my feet. Miss Ballard stood beside me, ready to help if I needed her. I was confident that I could stride forward on my own. I was Supergirl, ready to conquer the world.”

Despite her diminished physical strength, Peg feels like Supergirl because of the hurdles she has had to overcome and the mental and emotional strength she has acquired. This dynamic is mentioned again at the very end of the novel when Peg returns to choir class, feeling stronger than she had when she left.

“They had completely redecorated my room […] I could barely hide my disappointment. I had thought a hundred times about my comfortable room with its worn bedspread and familiar furniture. I had longed to see it all again, and now that room was gone forever.”

Peg’s reaction exemplifies The Value of Connection in Recovery through an emotional connection with sentimental objects. The remodel symbolizes that her old life is gone forever, and when she wakes the next morning deciding to accept—and even enjoy—the changes, it signifies the true lesson to come out of Peg’s Christmas visit: to accept, adapt, and move on. Peg understands that she’s a different person now, and she believes that she can eventually accept this difficult idea.

“Although my parents set a generous example, I never got any pleasure from watching the little kids use my possessions. Every time I saw my doll buggy or my maple table and chairs, I thought of home and how uncomplicated life used to be. When I saw a little boy reading Donkey, Donkey, I fought the urge to grab it away from him and hide it under my bed.”

Even in her generosity to the younger patients that surround her, Peg continues to cling to objects, placing extreme importance on the emotional attachments she has formed to them. In this case, her possessiveness over her childhood belongings, which she hasn’t played with or thought twice of in years, illuminates the underlying issue; despite taking her first steps toward acceptance by deciding to like her remodeled bedroom, Peg still has not completely come to terms with the changes in her life and is not ready to accept all aspects of her new reality.

“I was in no hurry to discard my sticks. I felt far more secure with them than I did when I walked alone, and they kept me from becoming too tired.”

Young Peg’s character has come a long way by this point in the memoir. The chaotic rebelliousness and impatience she often exhibited in rehab were motivated by a desire to get back to “normal,” but now, she has matured and found comfort and security within her new body and its abilities.

“When we went up to Room 202, […] a new girl was in my bed. I talked awhile with Shirley and left, feeling disappointed and slightly resentful that life at the Sheltering Arms was rolling smoothly along without me.”

Peg experiences significant Emotional Turmoil Throughout Recovery when she realizes that she no longer belongs at the Sheltering Arms. Her homesickness—which had originally been for her family home and her old school friends—cannot be escaped, as it has now transferred to homesickness for Room 202 and the friendships she made with her roommates. The feeling is heightened by the discovery of a new girl in her bed, which mirrors the moment when Peg returns to her family home and discovers that her remodeled room has been changed without her permission.