Before COVID-19...Polio Epidemic in Perth 1954 "Worse things happen at sea.
During 1954 there was a polio epidemic in Perth. While it is tragic that any child or young person caught an infectious disease and tragically died during these times, many survived with inspiring stories that were shared through the local newspapers of the day.
This article is about two young athletes John Turich and Geoff Bell who were photographed at the Infectious Diseases Hospital in West Subiaco, post polio section and shared their story in this article in 1954. I will let the boys speak for themselves.
The article is from Trove, the database of the National Library of Australia. No copyright infringement intended.
Sunday Times, 23 May 1954
Polio victims both, these well known young athletes, John Turich (still wearing his Aquinas football sweater) and Geoff Bell, formerly of Perth Modern School, were photographed yesterday at the Infectious Diseases Hospital West Subiaco post polio section.
Their story of the fight back from polio is on this page.
HOW THE PATIENTS SEE LIFE IN LOCAL POST-POLIO WARD
(By JOHN TURICH and GEOFF BELL)
A lot has been written about different aspects of polio, mostly concentrating on symptoms, safety precautions and the technicalities of treatment. But few people know anything of the patient's attitude.
This story sets out to show that, often the initial gloomy period, even polio con be an accepted philosophically and that the fight back can have its bright and even its funny moments.
Hospitals are generally thought of as rather dull places where people tip-toe around in white uniforms, and patients look pale and uninteresting.
But 24 hours in a post polio ward would quickly dispel any such ideas.
After the first 4 or 5 weeks most patients begin to feel well and as they are confined to bed - usually being permitted to do no more than lie down - they seek an outlet for high spirits and pent up energy.
And the results are sometimes startling.
Occasional periods of depression are suffered by all of us at times, but these only last a day or so, and the general atmosphere is surprisingly cheerful.
THERE are only 6 beds in our ward, and each occupant realises that his bed will be his home for at least 5 or 6 months, and possibly longer. So it would not be surprising if a more pessimistic attitude were adopted.
Ages in the ward vary from 16 to 44 years, and occupations include sawmill and scale mechanic, foremen, students, grease monkey and bus driver, so a fair cross section of polio victims is presented.
We think the atmosphere in our ward would be duplicated in post-polio wards throughout the State.
As we are all affected similarly - partial paralysis of the leg and abdominal muscles - our treatment is practically the same. We are able to compare notes on progress made, and reactions to different exercises.
Foundation of a good recovery lies in exercise, exercise and still more exercise, and to facilitate this work, frightening looking contraptions are erected over our beds.
These consist of a frame from which hang an array of springs, ropes, pulleys and slings, which offered an almost inexhaustible supply of jokes when they first arrived, and quickly earned us the name of "the Circus."
ONE of the most uncomfortable parts of the whole business is the stretching of painfully tight muscles, and sadistic animals, more commonly known as physiotherapists, are employed for this purpose.
Their duties are varied but we have all decided that their highest aim in life is to see patients squirming round a bed to the tune of a creaking muscle and contorted face.
If an unfortunate patient does happen to let a groan escape he is greeted with cries of "Chicken," "Squealer," "Softie," and similar degrading remarks from his comrades.
However, it is only a few weeks before the muscles loosen up and deprive the physios of their pleasure. (Incidentally we're only kidding about the physios. They're really grand people and we don't know what we'd do without them - or they without us).
A heartening aspect of the treatment is that a slow but definite improvement can be noticed from week to week, providing a fair amount of work is done.
This spurs the patient on to even greater efforts, as in most cases the rate of recovery is proportional to the amount of work a weak muscle is given.
Unlike many other diseases, there are no wonder drugs to restore wasted or useless muscles.
It means a long time and much work before successful results are achieved.
HOWEVER, there is a much lighter side to the picture.
Our ward is fortunate in having 2 natural humorists, but the others soon become adept at getting a laugh out of almost any situation, usually at the expense of a patient or a member of the staff.
Even the initial discovery that we had contracted the disease was not without its amusing incidents, and here is one of them.
While being examined at Royal Perth Hospital, one of us was sitting on a bench with a rather small doctor, who held out a delicate, white hand and said, "Squeeze hard."
Taking him at his word, the patient who at this stage was far from weak took a firm grip and squeezed.
To the consternation of both there was a loud crunching of bones, quickly followed by the agonised yell of the unfortunate medico as he shot off the bench and hastily extricated his damaged hand.
The patient certainly didn't have polio in that hand anyway.
For the first few days, new nurses have some doubtful moments, as they are confronted with all sorts of outlandish requests, accompanied by deadly serious faces.
But they soon become wise, and merely return some answering crack.
Almost needless to say, they are quickly given nicknames, sometimes far from flattering, but they take it all in good part.
THE nurses are always busy, and it is often difficult to attract their attention to our room, so we have devised various ruses to bring them. If a mournful wail of "Help nurse, I'm dying," or merely "Help" repeated every 10 seconds fails to rouse anybody, we drop a heavy weight on the floor and yell: "Mr. So-and-So just fell out of bed."
This seldom fails.
On one occasion, however, one of us did fall out of bed, and all of his "loyal" comrades immediately shut up like clams, or drowned out the unfortunate's shouts for a nurse.
Eventually he gave up, dragged a few blankets off his bed and curled up on the floor, where he stayed for half an hour before being found.
In spite of the many jokes enjoyed at the nurses' expense, they have quite a few opportunities to even up the score, the best one being the morning wash.
Temperatures are taken at 5 a.m., so we are usually in a bad mood when bowls of water are put on the lockers at 6 a.m., and not too gentle hands drag the bedclothes off.
This act is, of course, greeted with loud grumbl-ing, sarcastic comments, and not infrequently, mumbled, half-asleep profanity.
But the nurses are hardened veterans and retaliate with a few drops of cold water squeezed slowly over our faces and down our necks.
Breakfast arrives at 8 a.m., and is greeted with vigorous comments on the ancestry of someone in the kitchen and lurid descriptions of all the unpleasant deaths we can imagine.
Meat is always a popular topic for jokes, due no doubt to the fact that the dogs' home is only a stone's throw away.
THERE is a fairly big paddock here with a large round paddy melon
(Continued Page 22.)
FIGHT BACK -FROM POLIO
(Continued from Page 19)
in the centre. It is just outside our windows.
Members of the staff often practise golf there and an audience is always hanging out the windows offering advice.
One doctor was swinging merrily away, oblivious of the spectators who were silently waiting their chance.
It came when he missed the ball and a look of horror transformed his face as a voice from nowhere piped up: "Try the paddy melon, it's more your size."
The physiotherapists also get taken in while they are still green, but practical jokes with them could be rather dangerous, as they could easily obtain their revenge by stretching our muscles, a highly undesirable punishment.
Not that they'd do it of course, but it's something to think about.
A large circular tank holding 3,000 gallons is used for hydrotherapy.
Getting into it is a rather risky business, so a favorite trick is to submerge for a moment.
This makes the unsuspecting physios really worried, and one has even been known to soak herself to the skin in a frantic effort to rescue the 'drown-ing' patient, who has a good laugh at her expense as he rises easily to the surface.
This sort of joke is strictly "not done in the best of circles," but it certainly is amusing to all but the one on the receiving end.
Any new physio may not be familiar with the weaknesses of all the patients and we quickly take advantage of this.
The whole ward confirms that So-and-So has, say a weak arm and the physio blithely spends 10 minutes treating that limb only to find when she has nearly finished that there's nothing wrong with it. That one is guaranteed to make the sparks fly.
Each patient's individual paralysis also comes in for a good deal of clacking, and many amusing comments are passed.
One character, whose leg is almost completely paralysed, recently complained bitterly to a physio because the last joint on his big toe was not working.
He did not seem to be worrying about the rest of the leg, but showed great concern over this trivial detail.
If anyone shows an outstanding improvement he is immediately called a "malingerer" and is declaimed to the physios as having nothing wrong with him.
We do not intend to go into the technical details of the treatment we get here.
This article is not intended for that purpose. But the important fact is we get modern treatment and attention plenty of both and this seems to be producing most encouraging results.
Actually a book could be written about life in our particular ward, but we hope this article has conveyed some of the generally cheerful atmosphere and hopeful outlook adopted by most of the polio patients.
We think at this stage we should warn anyone who is thinking of contracting the disease on the strength of this article to stop thinking, as it is not all beer and skittles.
On the other hand, I can assure anyone who has the misfortune to become a victim that he or she can take heart from one of our favorite sayings, "Worse things happen at sea."
This is guaranteed to pull you through any crisis.
