Lifes Good?
I do not know many details of my time at Camperdown, apart from being flat on my back with both legs bandaged into full-length splints. But one day I was put in an ambulance and taken "to sea"! At least, that's how it seemed to me. Actually, my new home was Canonbury, No. 1, Darling Point Road, Darling Point. Canonbury was a large building on the shore of Sydney Harbour, first used, as far as I know, for the rehabilitation of World War I veterans suffering the effects of mustard gas, etc. In 1929 it was being run by the AJA (Australian Jockey Club) for the many child victims of Infantile Paralysis which at that time was in epidemic proportions. The AJA had a warm salt-water pool constructed so that the children could have hydrotherapy on site, followed by massage and exercise. All this plus accommodation was provided free of charge and I spent two and a half years of my life there. I am not aware of any public acknowledgement of this extremely generous and on-going philanthropy.
What was life at Canonbury like? My memories are far from complete and mostly rather negative. I must have been a fairly sickly child and I hated the food. Many were the lunch times that I spent gagging over the midday offering while all the other children were out playing. For years afterwards I couldn't face mince or pumpkin, and to this day the memory of large lumps in the porridge means that I have never eaten the horrid stuff since I left Canonbury. I had a particular family friend who sent me huge chocolate Easter eggs each year, but I didn't get to eat any of that delicious chocolate: the matron melted it down into hot chocolate for the children, and I HATED HOT CHOCOLATE.
To visit me on Sundays, my Mother and Father travelled from Mosman by tram. My mother was then forty-six years old and pregnant with her second child. My brother, Michael, was born in May, 1929, and that year must have been life-shattering for her and my fifty-six year old father. It was depression time and Dad had lost his business but was fortunate to have found a job in the retail silk trade. Unfortunately, they never really told me anything about my illness or how it affected them and my present regret is that I was too busy living to question them before they died.
The big positive of life at Canonbury was that the Dept of Education ran a one-teacher school in a cottage in the grounds. At first, I was wheeled into the classroom in my bed. The standard of teaching must have been reasonable because, though I had only been at school for three weeks before falling a victim to the Polio virus, when I returned home after two and a half years I came third in the class and thereafter topped my year. For some years after returning home I had a masseuse visit me twice a week, but otherwise I walked to the nearby convent school, joined in playground games with the other children, suffered terribly from chilblains during the winter and hit a tennis ball hard against the church wall every morning before school.
Polio affected me in my legs, principally the left one. Beginning with full-length callipers these were gradually reduced until, when I was twelve, I was allowed to wear ordinary shoes (though never the "tippy-toe" ballet shoes I aspired to) and was told by the doctor to "go and live my life", and that is what I have done.
I graduated in Arts in 1948, gained a Diploma of Education in 1949, taught for four years and then set off for England and Europe. I taught in London for two years (making friends who are still highly valued after 47 years), hitchhiked and youth hostelled in my holidays and returned to Sydney in 1957, where I taught Mathematics until my husband, Frank, swept me off my feet and we married in 1964. We fostered and adopted five children and were blessed with one home-grown daughter. We now have twelve grandchildren and one great granddaughter.
How has my life been affected by my experience with Poliomyelitis? I inherited a pigheadedness (my mother's description) that seems to be typical of Polio survivors and have pursued my interests with determination. I enjoyed playing tennis from my teens (I actually played B Reserve) until the "late effects" struck some eight years ago. I began singing in church choirs while our children were growing up, graduated to the Warringah Choir when it first began, and in 1980, at the age of 5 1, attained one of the high peaks of choral singing in Sydney: I was accepted into the Sydney Philharmonia Choir and sang with them until the late effects began to affect my vocal muscles in 1995.
Through
my school and working life the only discrimination I was ever aware of was from
the Board of the Education Department when, having fully qualified, I applied
for a teaching position. I can still remember them looking down their noses
when they read that I played competition tennis. Who do you play for?"
one asked, and when I replied "Catholic Lawn Tennis Association",
his response was "Oh, their standard is probably not very high. I'd like
to see anyone trying to get away with that sort of put-down these days! Like
most post-polios, I've never thought of myself as disabled, so increasing weakness
and fatigue are a bit hard to bear, especially when the "dips" come.
However, I can still spin, knit and crochet, my crossword and computer skills
are improving, I read the Manly Daily for the Blind every five weeks or so,
I am a tutor for the voluntary Literacy network and I continue to take an interest
in the music programmes for my church. I even manage to get to four or five
operas a year plus concerts and plays. One of the biggest achievements of my
life was learning to drive a car back in 1960 and with my Rascal scooter and
hoist in the back I can go anywhere. I've taken my scooter on the train to Broken
Hill and Brisbane and am booked to fly with it to Perth next month.
Life's good!
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