Patients and Providers

Stories of the experiences of patients and those who cared for them

Mon Hughes

Mon Hughes  was boarding at Loreto Convent in 1929 when she contracted poliomyelitis. She recalled:

I was awakened in the morning and I couldn’t move . . . I can’t remember feeling sick
at all . . . It was a total puzzle how I caught it.

The concerned nuns called a doctor.  Dr LC Male had been the school doctor before being appointed as Medical Director of the Children’s Hospital in 1927.  Mon continued: 

The nuns knew [Dr Male] very well  . . . they didn’t know what was wrong with me. They
maybe thought I was putting it on. They said   Oh dear, dear dear, what shall we do?
And he said, Oh I’ll take her in to hospital. And I had nearly a year there. About nine
months. They didn’t know anything about polio. Originally I think they thought I had
meningitis. Evidently there is a similarity in symptoms.

Mon was admitted to the Children’s Hospital and after two lumbar punctures the diagnosis was confirmed:

During the illness you’re in a completely different space and at my age I’d never been 
sick in my life. I can’t really remember [any pain]. All I knew is that I couldn’t move at 
the beginning. And as the sickness passed I was just left with a paralysed leg.

Mon’s doctor prescribed the standard treatment of the day – bed rest, splinting and massage. Her affected leg was immobilised in a plaster splint. Mon recalled her treatment by a masseuse.

They did very little in the way of treatment. . .  there was a very horsey woman who
frightened me. I remember she bent over me and had big teeth. No, just massage. A 
sprinkle of talcum powder and a little rub. That’s all I ever had. They kept me in bed for 
about 3 months before I even got up. All that seemed to bother me was the fact that I
couldn’t move.  My left leg was in plaster.


Mon commented that she had plenty of visitors in hospital. She had relatives in Perth and her parents made day trips from their farm at Corrigin. She could not recall seeing any of her classmates from Loreto - the hospital staff did not encourage children to visit.

After her discharge Mon did not return to Loreto. She boarded in Goderich St within walking distance of the Perth Hospital where she was treated with muscle re- education and massage. Then, with a straight brace on her affected leg and a walking stick she went home to Corrigin.  Later she acquired a more advanced splint with a knee joint.

In 1937 Mon met Sister Elizabeth Kenny who believed the orthodox treatment of bed rest, splinting and massage Mon had been prescribed was inappropriate. She regarded muscle re-education as beneficial but somewhat   controversially considered prolonged rest, immobilisation and splinting detrimental to the recovery of function. Invited to meet Kenny on board the ship on which she was travelling to London for a conference, Mon was examined by her and the ship’s doctor. Reflecting on Mon’s degree of disability Kenny gave her opinion. Mon recalled her words:

 . . . immediately the sickness passes . . .start up and into it so your limbs haven’t got used to not doing anything . . . She said the trouble with me [was that] I was kept in bed in plaster for months.

Mon Hughes went on to lead a productive life as an adult, marrying and raising 3 children.

Lesley Steele

Lesley was the eldest of 3 children growing up with her parents in Kalgoorlie when she was admitted to the district hospital  with poliomyelitis in 1948. Once free of the infection the four year old was transferred to a large ward in the Children’s Hospital where she spent 11 months receiving aftercare.

Like many of her fellow patients, being in hospital was Lesley’s first experience of institutional care.  She recalled the anguish of her admission.

A vivid memory is of Mum giving me a beautiful pop up book and I loved books. As we entered the hospital and were going down the corridor to my ward, I was torn between wanting the book and not wanting to be left in hospital, which I knew was going to happen! And poor Mum. Did I sob for hours, as I’m sure she did too.

Once Lesley had settled in, apart from the time spent having treatment, she found there was little to occupy patients during the day. Occupational therapy was yet to be established in general hospitals in WA. Australian Red Cross craft workers taught the patients handcrafts and supplied brightly coloured crocheted coverlets for the children’s beds.  Lesley recalled the nurses attempting to engage the children in their work. She filled many hours rolling bandages.  

The food was of the type that could be prepared in bulk from readily available and inexpensive ingredients. Prepared in the main kitchen, it was packed in to heated boxes and sent to the ward where it was served to the children on metal plates.  Lesley recalled:

Our meals were good except for the mashed swede, a very regular vegetable on our dinner plate.  I will never forget trying to swallow it and nearly choking. . . Even today I cannot bear the thought of it.

Lesley recalled the impact of her illness on the family. She recalled how her mother was torn between wanting to be with her in Perth and at home with the rest of the family in Kalgoorlie. Whenever she could her mother spent a couple of weeks in Perth, staying at the Wembley Hotel and visiting Lesley for as long as possible every day.

After a long period of hospitalisation, returning to home, school and workplace was a major readjustment for patients and their families. First and foremost for the patient was the joy of being reunited with their family and friends and being free of the restrictions of institutional life. Families were delighted to welcome their children home but the responsibility of their continuing treatment usually became the responsibility of the mother. Lesley recalled her discharge:

Mum was a trained nurse (so) she could learn what was needed to be done for me - physiotherapy - and look after me at home. So it was a very excited young girl who, after all that time in hospital, was on her way home.

She continued:

My legs were held straight and wide in a half plaster cast which also held my back straight. It was very firmly strapped in place and I slept in it. I look back and wonder how I ever got any sleep. Each day Mum had to do physiotherapy on my limbs and in later years she told me how I would hide from her under the bed and sob my heart out. Apparently the physio was so painful. My mind has blocked so many of those painful memories out.

Lesley went on to complete her schooling in Kalgoorlie and qualify as a teacher. In 1969 she married Gordon and the couple had three children. She enjoyed her career enormously and her warm and engaging personality endeared her to her students, fellow staff members and friends. Post-polio Syndrome eventually caught up with Lesley. She returned to wearing a brace and was disappointed to have to bring forward her retirement. Typically though Lesley made the best of her newly found freedom. She and Gordon were happy to dog sit for friends in the metro area and the southwest, taking their own dog and caring for friends’ pets for weeks at a time. Lesley also accepted an invitation to co –author the book Poliomyelitis in Western Australia: a history and enjoyed spending time with her grandchildren.  She died in 2020.

 Community Outreach - Boy Scouts and the Dalkeith Hot Pool

Community groups provided support and great pleasure to a number of polio patients, most of whom were obliged to accept the monotonous routines which were an essential part of an in-patient aftercare program. In the summer of 1949/50 scouts from the Swan Boys’ Orphanage and the 77th Bassendean troops arranged to accompany polio patients to the Hot Pool on the Swan River foreshore in Dalkeith.

By the late 1940s the benefits of hydrotherapy were well established and this form of treatment formed part of aftercare programs in other Australian states and overseas.  Until the first epidemic in 1948, there had been no need for the authorities to consider the benefits of introducing such treatment in WA. But in December of that year, with over 300 cases across the state, health authorities agreed that hydro therapy would likely benefit aftercare patients and recommended they take advantage of the conveniently located facility. 

The hot pool had formed during the building of the Old Men’s Home, later Sunset Hospital. A bore had tapped into an artesian well and the water had been under such pressure that it flowed   freely up to a tank 10 metres above the ground. In the early 1920s back pressure had caused the bore casing to crack and over 1300 kilolitres of tepid water formed a large pool. It was the first of 3 such pools at the site.

The first pool had resembled a large puddle surrounded by rocks but its successor was built of cement, 1.5 metres deep at one end and held 141 kilolitres of tepid water. Since the end of WW II  injured ex service men had taken advantage of its soothing waters during the day as part of their rehabilitation program.

At night however, it was quite a different story. As reported in the weekly newspaper Mirror (21/2/1948 p8) partygoers had long regarded a dip in the hot pool as the ultimate finale after a big night out. In the light of the moon clothes were abandoned, women shedding all but their lingerie while men stripped down to their underpants. More adventurous souls threw modesty to the wind and frolicked naked. The socialites of Dalkeith were outraged at the stories of scandalous and ribald behaviour. One girl had boarded a bus wearing only a short overcoat, sobbing and dripping wet. Her fellow swimmers had vamoosed with the rest of her clothes.

Amongst the health authorities, the idea of polio patients using the hot pool attracted strenuous debate. The local government authorities were willing to assist in every way. Drs Ian Thorburn and Gordon Hislop understood the therapeutic advantages but had reservations about its accessibility as the only path down a steep sand hill was long and narrow. Mary Padman, a physiotherapist at the Children’s Hospital conceded that in the absence of an alternative, the warm pool could be beneficial for children’s treatment during the winter.

In the winter of 1949, deliberations were still ongoing. Dr Alec Dawkins, the head of aftercare at the Infectious Diseases Branch and four other doctors supported the proposal, outlining the benefits of swimming to strengthen affected muscles. Dawkins also noted that future epidemics were inevitable and the pool would be a great asset. However the debate lost momentum as the number of cases fell. As predicted, when the next epidemic struck in 1954, demands for a therapeutic pool were loud and immediate.

However, the Dalkeith Hot Pool came to benefit polio patients in a more informal way. Setting aside the debate about the pros and cons of using the facility, as part of an Outreach program, scouts from the Swan Boys Orphanage offered to take two boys from  Princess Margaret Hospital on a day trip down the Swan River to Fremantle. On the way they stopped at the Dalkeith Hot  Pool where the Scouts took a sympathetic interest in their guests and assisted them in the water.  The boys returned to the hospital sunburnt and tired but happy.

On another occasion the 77th Bassendean troop arranged to take 4 patients from the Infectious Diseases hospital to the Hot Pool.  Patient Roy Scarr recounted:

The head mechanic at Royal Perth was the sea scout master for one of the other polio
boys. He arranged that the sea scouts bring several boats from Bassendean down the river
to Crawley, where we’d be waiting in ambulances. Our stretchers would be transferred, 
two to a boat, for a luxurious few hours of water therapy.

Scout Don Kenworthy recalled: 

With some difficulty we landed everyone safely. The boys were fitted with life jackets
and lowered into the pool where they bobbed about . . .   They were attended initially 
by a nurse  or a scout but after pleading to the senior nurse, one by one they were left
to splash alone. Every now and again the heat would tire a lad and he would be lifted 
from the pool for a time, but would always want to return.

While these informal sessions at the Hot Pool may not have been as beneficial as hydrotherapy under the supervision of a physiotherapist, the outings were judged so positively by all concerned that further trips to the Hot Pool were organised on a fortnightly basis.      

Adoption

For some polio patients having the disease meant they were unable to proceed with their lives in the way they had planned or in the way they would have wanted.  When a mother gave birth while she was in hospital the added complication of  having a child to care for sometimes resulted in parents having to take the most heartbreaking of decisions.

Betty Clarke

Betty Clarke and her husband Jack were expecting their second child when Betty was admitted to the Infectious Diseases hospital. Having trouble breathing she was placed in an iron lung. The pregnancy continued and when Betty went in to labour, she was well enough to be removed from the respirator for about 45 minutes for the delivery.  She and Jack named their daughter Lorna Betty and Betty became Australia’s first iron lung mother

The matron of a Fremantle nursing home offered to look after Lorna until Betty was strong enough to care for her. After several weeks of painful consideration, Betty and Jack decided Lorna would have a good home and a more certain future with the matron. They decided to give her up for adoption.

Shirley Denny, a fellow patient of Betty’s, remembered:

My husband and Betty’s husband met on the train. They’d get out and walk through 
the bush together to Shenton Park where they’d visit us . . .
My eldest (4) had to go with my husband to live with my mother-in-law. The youngest
(12 months) went to my parents . . . I missed everyday contact with my boys but I [was] 
lucky really. Worse for some  . . . [Betty’s] baby was adopted out as her husband couldn’t
cope with a wife so badly affected plus a three year old boy.

Elsie Armstrong

Elsie Armstrong and her husband Cecil were expecting their second child when Elsie was admitted to the Infectious Diseases Hospital.  Their eldest child Doug  was being cared for by a pensioner friend while Cecil went to work. Towards the end of Elsie’s pregnancy, Winnie Porter who ran the Woodside Maternity Hospital, got in touch with Cecil and offered to care of the baby until Elsie had recovered. Cecil recalled:

I said, Yes, that’d be nice. [ After Elsie had Philip at IDB] Winnie Porter took over.

 In January 1949 when Philip was 2 months old Elsie was about to be moved to another institution to continue her aftercare when she died suddenly of a heart attack.  Cecil had been offered a job in Wittenoom. He continued:

I didn’t know where I was actually. I had no relatives in Western Australia – I was 
on my own  . . . I thought I can’t look after these children.
Then friends of mine [who]  couldn’t have children . . . asked me if they could look
after Doug, the elder lad. [They]  asked if they could adopt Doug.
So I went to see Winnie Porter and  . . . she asked if she could adopt the new baby.
So  [she] adopted Philip.

         

A Baby in the Broom cupboard

Patsy Sandover    

In 1954 Patsy Sandover was pregnant with her second child when she contracted polio and was admitted to the Infectious Disease hospital in the care of orthopaedic surgeon Mr Bill Gilmour. Foremost amongst her myriad concerns was the wellbeing of her unborn child. 

During the 1948 epidemic 9 pregnant women had contracted poliomyelitis . Five had died and 3 had been severely affected by the disease. Many of the reports on polio and pregnancy had indicated that pregnant women were more susceptible to the disease than others in the childbearing age group. Furthermore the mortality rate was high and the prognosis seemed to worsen as the pregnancy progressed. 

Patsy recalled her obstetrician Dr JH Stubbe visiting:

[He] came straight to see me and said I must have killed a Chinaman. And I said, No I 
certainly haven’t killed a Chinaman. I didn’t realise that that meant you had extremely
bad luck. And so that had to be explained to me. Naturally my greatest worry was the
association with polio, whether the baby was going to be affected. And so [Dr Stubbe]
put my mind at rest by saying that polio and pregnancy were totally unrelated.

Once Patsy was clear of infection, she was moved to the Aftercare Unit, sharing a ward with 6 other women with varying degrees of disability. As her due date in May approached, there was no prospect of her going home. She recalled:

Grayam was going to have to be a caesarean . . . I was very keen to see myself and 
I wanted to be awake and be told  and know what was going on, but that wasn’t on
in those days. I don’t think the operating theatre at the Infectious Diseases Hospital
had been working for many years. Apparently [Grayam’s] birth was the first operation
they’d had and everyone attended; the nurses, probably the cleaners, the matron
and naturally [Dr Stubbe]. . . He was an older man . . . and we got on very well together.
Very often patients fall in love with their doctors. I didn’t fall in love with him but I loved him.

When Grayam was born the hospital was filled to capacity but somehow the baby had to be accommodated. Former nurse Doris Kendle remembered a similar situation the previous year when Mary Larkman gave birth to  her daughter Rosalind.

We’d cleaned out a storeroom to make a nursery for Mary . . . the room was all set up for the
total care of [ baby Rosalind] . . . Mary came down after meals to feed the baby and to be there.
We would . . . set [her and] the baby up and then come back later. [Mary] wasn’t 
able to do those things for herself. She didn’t have the strength.

Patsy’s husband Robin recalled:

The whole of Shenton Park annexe was absolutely full of people with poliomyelitis so [Grayam]
was kept in this broom cupboard  . . . the cleaning lady’s cupboard where she had all the brooms
and mops. He was in his bassinette. [The cleaning lady] was absolutely tremendous and loved this
little one . . . [she] spent more time with him than she did cleaning . . . I used to go every evening
to see Patsy after work and I’d go to the broom cupboard to pick Grayam up in his bassinette and
take him to see Patsy in her bed . . .[He was in hospital] for about 3 months with Patsy.

Learning to care for Grayam was an essential part of Patsy’s rehabilitation. He was out of earshot in the broom cupboard so she relied on the staff or her fellow patients to tell her when he was crying. As Patsy couldn’t walk and carry the baby, a nurse wheeled  Grayam to her in the pram at feeding times. 


The strict routine of the ward imposed further stress, not least of all the rigid panning hours. Patsy drank large quantities of water to enable her to breast feed Grayam and frequently found herself in desperate circumstances.  Eventually the agony of a cracked nipple forced her to abandon feeding her son. Fearful that  he would be taken from her if she couldn’t feed him, Patsy told her doctor Bill Gilmour that she was going home to Robin and her older child Ian. 

During Patsy’s hospitalisation Robin had employed a woman to look after Ian while he was at work. She became the first in a succession of housekeepers, all of whom were essential in supporting the Sandover family being together in their own home.

 TEACHERS -Anywhere but Back to School

In 1938 over 2000 teachers were employed by the Education Department but at the start of the school year in February, 80 teachers were not available to take their classes. The health authorities had prohibited them from attending school, believing that because they had holidayed in the eastern States  where polio was prevalent,  they could potentially be responsible for spreading this disease in WA. 

At this time most authorities believed polio to be primarily a disease of children. The school aged cohort was regarded as particularly vulnerable, given their close contact in the class room 5 days a week. If a child was diagnosed with polio, the Health Department mandated that the school be fumigated and closed down for 21 days. In the first few months of the year 3 schools in the Perth metropolitan area and 3 in country towns were closed for the obligatory period. 

While adults were generally regarded as immune, teachers were singled out as an exception.  They were regarded as highly vulnerable because of their close contact with groups of possible infected children and therefore more likely to spread the disease. With polio prevalent in south eastern Australia, the health authorities were fearful of the disease being introduced to WA and ruled that teachers who had been holidaying in the eastern states could not return to school for 21 days from the time of departure from that state. Rosalie Primary school started the year with 3 teachers absent and the principal of Mt Hawthorn Infants School was away for the first fortnight. Mount Hawthorn, the Claremont Practising School and Marvel Loch primary all started the year with absentee teachers.

It seems that the excluded teachers were not particularly unhappy. The evening newspaper the Daily News ran an article in its regular column Gossiping of Hepzibar claiming that dozens and dozens of schoolteachers [had had] pleasant quarantine days – going anywhere but back to school. Miss Pat Kinnane was one teacher who took advantage of the extra holiday time and extended her stay with her sister in Brisbane.

However owners of boarding houses accommodating teachers were not so happy. Seeking the support of the Commissioner of Public Health Dr Atkinson the proprietor of the Rose Hotel in Bunbury expressed her concern that a Science teacher would be returning soon from the Eastern States and, with 5 children of her own, she was not keen to accommodate her. A mother of four in Boscabel via Kojonup wrote:

The teacher I have boarding with me has gone to Victoria and I do not wish to have her 
back till some measure has been taken to stop the disease from spreading . . . Hoping
you will oblige.

     The Commissioner responded that while teachers could not return to school, he had no power whatsoever to restrict their lives in any other way.