The Little Red Chair

In the course of my teaching and coaching careers I had heard of Post Polio Syndrome, but paid no attention to it. I was functioning well with no apparent physical difficulties beyond what I had become accustomed to.  By the late ‘90s however I began to experience more episodes of weakness that would come and go. I thought it was probably just age. I was in my mid to upper 40s. If I gave it some rest the fatigue or weakness would leave and I’d resume my usual mobility. I remember on one occasion I just couldn’t make the climb up the staircase from the garage to the main level of the house. My left leg was so tight and tired it couldn’t support my weight to make even one step. My nephew Todd and my brother Larry literally had to carry me up two flights to my room. This kind of concerned me, but in a couple of days power returned. I shrugged it off as maybe over doing it a bit.

I also noticed subtle adjustments I would make in climbing stairs. By using my upper body and shoulders against the walls I would relieve the weight from my legs. As I searched my memory I realized something had been changing for some time. When out at dinner a friend would simply lean on their side of the table to counter my weight as I pushed up on my side to get up on my feet. However, so subtly in time I’d say,” Hey Kevin can, you give me a hand up?” Just a pull as I pushed. But now relying more on others direct aid. I thought possibly I’m putting on too much weight.

I would never return to my own efforts to get up out of a chair. I’d find myself sitting on desktops in the classroom rather than my own chair. At home I sat in bar stools and had my bed raised on bricks so I could get up on my own. It was easier to step off rather than stand up. I gravitated to these changes without conscious thought.

The real telling story that P.P.S. was affecting me was seen in my golf game. I began playing golf when in my mid ‘20s. I’d play from tee to green. I’d swing the club with my left arm while I balanced myself with the right. I would use a golf cart to get from shot to shot. Putting was my strong point. I guess years of miniature golf helped my putting game. My best score for 9 holes was 53. I could drive 120 yards off the tee and 80 to 90 yards on the fairways.

I have a golf story. There’s always a golf story. My brothers John and Larry and my cousin Dave and I played in a local golf tournament to commemorate the town in Italy, Sette Frati, from which we descended. We teed off on the 10^th hole in a shot gun format for those who know the game. As we were playing our first hole my third shot found the sand trap to the left of the green. As I dug in to secure my footing I lost my balance. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t help but fall in. I Knew it was inevitable, so I through my club aside(I thought) and dove into the sand landing on the club head and the ball. The ball was buried and my chest and ribs sore from landing on the club. After the rest of my foursome pulled me from the sand we continued play until done and attended the banquet. I was aching the whole time but finished. On the bright side at the raffle I won a color T.V. We told everyone at home I hit closest to the pin. In time I told the truth. After all, golf integrity.

We gathered at home for coffee afterwards to talk about the day. John remembered my nephew, Marc, had recorded some of the day on video. As we viewed it low and behold the sand trap incident was captured for the family archives. When all saw me hit and the sand fly there wasn’t a dry eye in the house for laughing, including me. The more I laughed the more my ribs would ache. For two weeks after my sore ribs would remind me of that hilarious golf blooper. Best of all though. When all went home and I was in bed for the night, I could hear my mom in the next room giggling out of control. I called out: “What’s so funny?” She replied: “ I just thought about the you in that video and I started laughing again.” Very funny”, I said. It was!

I tried to make a dollar on the video by sending it in to “Funniest Videos.” However, they turned it down. They said they had a lot of golf flubs. I thought different.

As the golf seasons progressed I’d have difficulty getting up to some of the tee boxes. So, I’d set up on a lower level and tee from there. Then in time, losing power, I’d drop the ball down on the fairway about 200 yards from the green. The to shorter shots, 50 to 70 yards out. Eventually it was a struggle getting in and out of the cart. I became very frustrated, angry and impatient.

I found myself falling more at school. If my left foot slipped a bit on my ankle supported leg the knee would buckle and down I’d go. The school nurse was concerned, that this increased falling may be of a neurological nature. She wasn’t far off. To avoid potential slips I wore tote shoe covers around the school halls. It worked quite well. I wasn’t as young as I used to be, and it took longer to recover from those bumps and bruises.