Franklin Roosevelt’s battle with polio taught him lessons relevant today - The Washington Post

Franklin Roosevelt’s battle with polio taught him lessons relevant today - The Washington Post


Franklin Roosevelt’s battle with polio taught him lessons relevant today - The Washington Post

Posted: 28 Apr 2020 03:07 AM PDT

The first major outbreak of "infantile paralysis" as the disease was then known, occurred in 1916, with more than 27,000 cases of the virus ravaging the Northeast, leaving 6,000 people dead. Because this outbreak originated in a heavily populated immigrant community in Brooklyn, the initial attack led to an increase in xenophobia in more rural and affluent parts of the country, and the widespread assumption that immigrants carried the disease. Closely associated with this perception that immigrants from Southern and Eastern Europe were undesirable and unfit was the eugenic notion that "crippled individuals" were somehow inferior, flawed in character as well as body, to be shunted away and kept from public view.

Many of these perceptions changed, however, when news broke in 1921 that Roosevelt had come down with polio while vacationing with his family off the east coast of Maine. The fact that such a well-known public figure — the Democratic vice presidential nominee in 1920 — from a wealthy family had acquired the disease helped transform the public's perception of polio. So too did the increasing number of middle- and upper-class Americans who had contracted the illness.

Though paralyzed from the waist down, Roosevelt never lost hope that he might recover the use of his legs. In 1924 he read about a young man who appeared to have regained his ability to walk by swimming in the warm waters of a resort in Warm Springs, Ga. Inspired by this story, Roosevelt traveled to Warm Springs, "took the waters" and became so convinced of the springs' restorative qualities that he not only bought the resort, but also soon turned it into the nation's first major center for rehabilitative therapy. To support this facility and help foster a greater public awareness of how modern medicine could assist his fellow polio sufferers, Roosevelt established a nonprofit organization called the Georgia Warm Springs Foundation.

Roosevelt's return to politics in 1928 — a successful bid to become governor of New York — provided another opportunity for him to encourage public support for what was called "aftercare" therapy. By frequently appearing in public supported by steel braces carefully concealed under his pant legs, he was able to "stand" behind a lectern, or "walk" a few short paces, swinging each braced leg forward one at a time, steadied by a cane and the arm of one of his sons or an aide, head up, smiling and laughing as if he were out for a leisurely stroll.

This "splendid deception" helped create the impression that Roosevelt had largely recovered from polio. It also helped lessen the public's fear of the disease and reduce the stigma associated with it. The truth, of course, was that this "walk" took tremendous effort and concentration. But it also boosted Roosevelt's political career. As his opponents' attacks on his health and fitness for office during the 1932 campaign revealed, the public was not ready to elect a president who was used a wheelchair.

Having confronted his own paralysis, Roosevelt assumed the presidency in 1933 confident that he could help lift a paralyzed nation out of the depths of the Great Depression. For the next 12 years, this man of action — who was frequently depicted as running and jumping in editorial cartoons — would transform the relationship between the American people and their government and between the United States and the rest of the world.

His bigger platform also allowed him to continue his work at Warm Springs. After the successful 1934 launch of annual fundraising "Birthday Balls" with the slogan "to dance so that others may walk," Roosevelt helped orchestrate the establishment of the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis in 1937 "to lead, direct and unify the fight against every phase of this sickness." The organization launched the famous "March of Dimes" fundraising campaign in mid-January 1938, which by the end of that month had flooded the White House mailroom with 2,680,000 dimes.

Inspired by the progress that was being accomplished in the treatment of polio, Roosevelt also took great interest in the expansion of the federal government's role in advancing the science of public health. It was Roosevelt who secured the funding, selected the site and provided the initial design of the massive Bethesda Naval Hospital that opened in 1942. Roosevelt also vastly expanded the facilities of the National Institutes of Health. In dedicating the new $4 million facility that would house the National Cancer Institute in October 1940 — roughly a year after the outbreak of the Second World War — the president proclaimed that, in addition to the acquisition of "airplanes, ships, guns and bombs," the security of the United States required the application of medical knowledge and science because "we cannot be a strong nation unless we are a healthy nation."

Realizing the U.S. was but a day or two by plane from the "yellow fever of South America" or "the sleeping sickness of equatorial Africa" Roosevelt established a Health and Medical Committee within the Department of Defense "to coordinate the health and medical aspects of national preparedness." While NIH had done good work, Roosevelt insisted the federal government could do "infinitely more" because "disease disregards state lines as well as national" and among the states "there is inequality of opportunity for health."

Roosevelt would not live to see Jonas Salk's announcement in 1955, 10 years after his death, of the successful development of a polio vaccine — thanks to the millions of dollars raised by "the March of Dimes." But his struggle against polio and dedication to the expansion of medical science for the benefit of all Americans demonstrate the value of seeing national preparedness as broad enough to encompass scientific and medical research.

While Roosevelt never regained the use of his legs, his faith in medical science never wavered, nor did his belief in the inherent compassion that drove doctors and nurses.

Perhaps it is here that we might find the greatest lesson from Roosevelt's personal struggle with polio. In a tribute to the founders of the Mayo Clinic in 1934, which applies equally to the health-care professionals on the front lines today, the president observed that medicine concerns "many things besides the healing of the sick. … It has taught us how science may be made the servant of a richer, more complete common life." Even more importantly, perhaps, it taught "lessons in the ethics of human relationships — how devotion to the public good, unselfish service, never-ending consideration of human needs are in themselves conquering forces."

As we struggle to overcome the deep political divisions that have done nothing to help our nation solve this pandemic, we would do well to embrace these "conquering forces" and take heed of what Roosevelt said about the wisdom of science and character of the medical professionals who are risking their lives to keep us safe.

"Democracy looks to the day when these virtues will be required and expected of those who serve the public officially and unofficially. Modern medicine has set an exalted example. It has shown the way for us all."

Glimpse of the Past: Polio epidemic in 1940s-1950s affected Mankato residents - Mankato Free Press

Posted: 25 Apr 2020 10:30 AM PDT

The Free Press

The late Dr. John "Jack" Heimark began his career at a clinic in Mankato during a time when the last great public epidemic — polio — was rampant.

"When I was in medical school in 1950, there were iron lung machines everywhere. It was frightening," Heidmark told The Free Press in 2003.

The poliovirus hit without warning and weakened victims' muscles. When spinal muscles near the neck were weakened, patients had difficulty breathing.

The iron lung was a common form of treatment for polio victims. The machines were large tubes in which the patient laid inside with his or her head sticking out the end.

A collar around the neck kept the machine airtight inside.

Air was pumped in and out of the machine, helping to lift the chest and lungs to assist in breathing. Patients had to be in the iron lungs often for days or weeks, but sometimes longer.

"They were big, menacing machines. They were in the halls, everywhere. People who suffered severe problems were usually sent to the U of M because they had the most of the iron lung machines," Heimark said.

Most people who got polio suffered much milder symptoms — usually headache, stiff neck, fever and muscle soreness — that subsided in a few days or weeks, he said.

"Whenever we treated young people with headaches, we had to be aware they might have had polio."

Polio patients required long quarantine periods.

About 10% of people with polio died from it in the 1940s and 1950s. Some who survived were paralyzed.

Many who recovered later had post-polio symptoms — often muscle weakness in a leg or arm.

Retired Mankato attorney Bailey Blethen is among many who suffered symptoms decades after contracting and recovering from polio. In fact, Blethen didn't know he had polio as a child.

"I had trouble with my legs in the first grade, in '42 or '43. I had trouble getting up and walking well. My doctors told my parents it was not polio," he told The Free Press in 2003.

Blethen not only recovered but went on to be an avid runner and competitive golfer. But in 1985, his leg began to weaken.

"I couldn't finish a round of golf. I thought maybe I had been doing too much running."

But a test at the Orthopaedic and Fracture Clinic by a neurological specialist quickly confirmed Belethen had indeed suffered from polio as a child.

For Heimark's and Blethen's generation, the advent of the oral polio vaccine was a revolution. Discovered by researcher Jonas Salk, the vaccine was approved for public use in 1955.

By 1961, incidents of polio had dropped 95 percent.

"The Salk vaccine was a miracle at the time," Blethen said. "It didn't benefit me, but there were thousands of others it saved."

But the advent and use of polio vaccine has been fiercely debated. Some argued polio rates were rapidly declining before the vaccination efforts and that side effects of the vaccine suffered by some people outweighed the benefits.

Heimark said he'd seen enough serious and deadly disease outbreaks to know that the small risk from vaccination is well worth the prevention of disease.

"Flu, polio, smallpox have all pretty much been wiped out by vaccines. The illnesses and diseases change, and you have to be ready ... People can have reactions to vaccines, but it's rare. It's a lot better to not have to worry about outbreaks."

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