Part 3

In 1939 when my mom's first surgery was so tragically done, the depression was still trudging along albeit slowing a tiny bit. Yet, people all over America were weary from years of struggling with making ends meet and still not quite having enough. This stressful time caused much anguish for my Grandparents because it required them to leave my mom in the hospital in Binghamton NY for 3 months at a time. Most parents now-and-days couldn't imagine leaving their two year old child in a hospital alone for more than a few hours; Gladys and George didn't have a choice.
Dr. Alben was very distressed at what the previous surgeon had done to my mother. The infections and abscesses took a long time to heal and the removal of tendons had done more damage than good to her small legs. Dr. Alben knew it was going to take many surgeries and lots of hard work on the part of my mom to over come what had been done to her. After Mom was healed from the infections, the casting process was started. This required her to be put in casts, and every week portions would be cut out and her feet manipulated in a more normal position and then recast. After each repositioning, the pain was almost unbearable and the longing to be comforted by her mother was almost more than she could stand. Binghamton City Hospital was a sterile, cold place with bleak gray walls and sick children. The long days stretched into weeks then months until her legs and feet were repositioned enough to allow her to leave the Hospital for a small stretches of time. It never was long enough though.
Months became years and while the Depression had come to a close due to the war, WWII had become another stumbling block keeping my mom locked in her sterile castle when work needed to be done on her casts.
Because of the war, gas, and other household items were being rationed. Each household was given a certain amount of rations which didn't leave enough most weeks to have enough for my grandparents to get to Binghamton. Thankfully there were kind people who would save enough of theirs to give some to Grandma and Grandpa so they could go see Mom every two weeks or so.
Whether it was because of depression or an illness, my mom stopped eating. She remembers pushing her food around on the plate so the nurses would take the tray and even giving food to other kids so the nurses would stop telling her to eat. Hoping that it was because of her tonsils, the doctors asked my grandparents if they could take them out. Giving their permission, mom had her tonsils removed at the age of 4. When mom woke up, she yelled at my Grandmother that she hated her but then quickly fell back to sleep. When she woke up the next time, they were gone. Not because they wanted to leave, but they had to get back to the rest of the family and Grandpa George couldn't risk missing work and losing his job. He had already had to find work at a plant called Bendix because the Meat Market had gone under two years prior. It was hard for my mom to understand at that young age that her anger wasn't the reason why her parents weren't there when she woke up. Even after Grandma tried to assure her the next time she saw her. How could any child understand that? It wasn't long after her tonsillectomy that the doctors would figure out her eating problems weren't tonsil related. At the age of four, my mom was depressed.

When mom turned eight, she had her second surgery on her legs and feet. This time, under the guided hands of a skilled surgeon using proper equipment. During this surgery, a few more tendons in her legs were moved and part of her ankle bone was removed. Two years later, at the age of ten, her other foot would be operated on and because of the advancement in medicine, that foot has always been a little better for her. Memories from her hospital stays are quite vivid and she recalls the casting room where casts were put on her and other children as well. It was a cold room with tall pillars with bars in between. These bars would be used to tie kids down that needed to be casted because of displaced hips or to straighten their backs. When everyone was back in their rooms, mom would 'sneak' over to visit some of the kids who couldn't move because of their casts. Many times she would follow the nurses around in her wheel-chair to help tend to the other children. On a rare occasion, the nurses would take the kids up to the roof of the hospital so they could get some fresh air because like my mom, most of these kids were there for long periods of time.
Lice was a big problem for anyone staying in the hospitals back then. Mom recalls one time that her Dad came to visit and the Doctor happened to be there. The doctor let Mom go home with Grandpa on the train for the weekend and while she was home, Grandma realized that Mom had a very bad case of Lice. Unfortunately this meant that everyone in the house had to be treated with kerosene and sit for hours while Grandma picked eggs out of their hair.

No one was happy with Mom for that special “gift”. I'm wondering, if inside my mom was silently chuckling to herself that she got to share some of her grief from being kept away from everyone. After all, misery loves company.