Several times as a child I experienced ‘altered states of consciousness’ associated with fevers. Probably a normal response of the brain adjusting to chemical and temperature changes.
When I was five, all the kids in the neighborhood had roller skates. They were made of metal and attached to the soles of our shoes. We used a skate key to adjust the skates to fit our shoe size.
Our house was in a perfect spot for screaming down a steep hill on wheels. It was near the bottom of a quiet street with lots of kids and little traffic. We could arrive at the top of the hill by riding a bike, standing on the pedals, leaning over the front fender, legs in granny gear, or by pulling a wagon, or by carrying our skates.
We learned to choreograph the downhill dash, calculating the velocity of each vehicle with the volume, ages, and expertise of the riders. A nod toward “Safety First’ to minimize collisions.
By the time we got to our house, we were at break neck speed. A subtle shift put us careening into and across the concrete driveway at an angle, then on to a signature landing, ending if necessary on the softer grass lawn.
That same summer Walt Disney brought us James Algar’s magical microscopic time-lapsed photography wonder, “Nature’s Half Acre,” and the full feature, animated “Fantasia” at the movies! Both of them mind-expanding new ways of understanding the world
There was also an historic viral epidemic called poliomyelitis, or poliovirus, or just Polio, crippling and killing children in large numbers in neighborhoods across the USA and the world. Also introducing new challenges to previous reality checks.
Still a little early for a safe mass vaccine, there was fear in the air among newly carefree post-War American families. And in fact the virus picked my brother for a mild case.
My brother was the only person I knew who had polio…
We waved to him from the parking lot at the base of the hospital where he was quarantined and treated. He later described the team of Nurses delivering hot packs from an oven as a HOT POTATO Brigade, tossing them off to each other, then plunking them down onto his tender seven-year-old back. He was lucky, and after a few weeks of treatment, he returned home for the last of summer.
My brother was the only person I knew who had polio, and he recovered with no permanent problems. But around that time there were plenty of medical dramas, and some high fevers that came and went.
It was hard to tell who had contracted the disease until symptoms of muscular atrophy showed up, usually after fever, stiff neck, and gut wrenching nightmares.
Recently I discovered this entry in a journal from decades ago.
First Fever
The skinny child, eyes fixed
On her large, empty hands
Comes through the doorway
Into the kitchen, pin balling it
Off one of the vertical frames,
Groggy and Confused.
She moves in a trance to her mother's side
Who is washing the dishes from breakfast
And who shifts her weight as the dishes move
In a familiar loopy cycle from left to right.
The child rocks sideways too
Nauseated by the rhythm of the chore.
Her mother says to the sink, what is it, dear?
Don't mumble…What do you need?
The child's eyes lift slowly
And when they meet her mother's glance
She asks softly can you help me
Get this skate key off my finger?
The skate key art is SPECATULARLY BEAUTIFUL! And the story is very moving. Thank you, Sherry!
Beautiful story and poem. I remember those altered states from fevers, as if my body was wrapped in gauze, unable to feel to the touch. Thanks, Sherry.