3 of 24 - Polio in Cornwall - Infectious Origins for me
I don’t know how that goo got me back in 1958. Perhaps an asymptomatic and entirely innocent fisherman wiped his arse with a clump of grass and tossed the mess away. And there it was, pungently waiting for two-year-old me. Or maybe it was artfully spat out by a farmer on a passing Fordson Major. It could have been an invisible smear on a glass of Corona Raspberryade given to me by a kind neighbour. The polio virus could have entered my body in any of these, and thousands of similar scenarios. What I do know is that the accidental meeting of me and the poliomyelitis virus happened and I, and my gait, would never be the same again. During the 1950's there were 45,000 cases of polio in the UK and hundreds died. Pure fluke allowed me to walk away, one withered leg a few inches short of its partner, and missing its calf muscle, but walking. So many others were much less lucky. Just look up pictures of “1950’s Iron Lung” and you will see exactly what I mean. I...