The Baby’s Cross: A Tuberculosis Survivor’s Memoir. C. Gale Perkins

in- charge named Miss Currie and who I really liked came with a tray that had all sorts of things wrapped up on it. Bottles of what looked like soap, one with a clear solution, adhesive tape, and several other things. My heart started to pound as I had no idea what was going to be happening to me.

      She explained that she was going to shave my back and my left leg and make it all nice and sterile for my surgery. She started pouring the soap in the dish. She called it green soap. She then washed my back with it and begin to shave whatever hair might be on my back. The razor felt really strange. She wiped my back with the clear liquid called alcohol, which was very cold. She opened up a small enclosed bundle of cloth and wrapped it all around my back to my stomach. She did the same thing with my leg. They were to remove a bone from my leg and graft it into my spine to replace the part of the bone in my spine that was diseased. She told me that they would be doing the surgery at eight in the morning, and I should eat a good supper as I would not be able to eat any breakfast in the morning. After supper the nurse came with a large metal container with long red rubber tubing at the end and said I had to have an enema. This certainly was a very unpleasant procedure; I started to vomit and felt as though my stomach was going to burst. I was glad when this was over.

      When the lights went off around eight that evening I began to get that fear that I would have when the witches would appear to me in the babies’ ward. What is going to happen to me tomorrow? Will it hurt? Will I be sick? I decided that vomiting was not my favorite thing to do. I finally fell asleep feeling all alone. The morning came and I was taken into the room that they put me in when I misbehaved and again they cleaned my back and leg with the soap and wrapped the areas up. They took one of the tray covers that we laid on our beds to put the metal trays on and wrapped my head up in it like a turban. Then I was put on a stretcher and was taken over to the surgery building. The kids were all saying good bye to me. My new friends Angie and Phyllis said, “Bye. I love you, Gale. See you soon.” Would I see them again? It sure felt very scary to me, like whatever was happening was not good.

      The surgeon was a doctor from the big Boston hospital called Massachusetts General Hospital; he looked at me with a big smile and said, “Hello, Gale. I am Dr. Van Garden,” as he patted me on the head. “We are going to fix you up and you will be just fine.” They moved me to a very cold table, strapped me down, and told me to count to ten. As I counted, a round rubber cone was placed over my nose and mouth. It smelled just awful! I tried to hold onto the table because I felt as if I was about to float off of it. The next thing I knew I woke up in a small room over in the women’s ward, all alone. A nurse I had never seen before came in and told me I had just come back from my operation and that I might feel a little sick. She showed me the kidney-shaped metal basin just as my stomach got queasy. My mouth felt like cotton; within seconds I started to be sick and this went on for two days. I was very thirsty but was afraid to drink anything because I would just be sick again. They brought me cracked ice; I would suck on it and somehow I got through the third day. I was not in the cast but in a shell that went from my neck down to my toes. When I was on my back they would take the top half off. When they moved me on my stomach they would strap the top on and turn me over. I was up on what was called horses; they look like saw horses only smaller. This kept me up in the air and they could just slide the bedpan underneath it. On the third day I was able to eat. I was fearful of being sick so I ate very slowly, and when I found out that I was going to be okay, it made me very happy. I didn’t like the feeling of the top of the shell cast being put on and they would turn me over. I was always so afraid that I would fall. The one good thing about it was when they turned me on my stomach and took off the back shell I would get a back rub wherever the bandage wasn’t and I liked that. I could also just place a book on the bed and read it easier than holding my arms up in the air. The wooden horses that lifted me up off the bed gave space for a book to be placed directly on the bed. I couldn’t read much but looked at the pictures. I was in the private room for two weeks. One day I heard the nurses say it was time to remove the sutures in my back and leg. Again the anxiety built up. They arrived in the room with a metal tray with metal instruments and took off the wrappings on my leg and started to take out the stitches. This was not a very pleasant feeling. The nurse felt by telling me how many there were and counting as each one was removed it would make me feel better. It just raised the anticipation of the next one to come, and my heart was just pounding. My mouth became dry and I thought for sure I would be sick. I cried and asked for some water, but I had to wait until they were finished. I lay as still as I could with my eyes closed until it was all over. I never felt pain after the surgery, but having the stitches out was frightening and very painful, not something I would forget in a hurry. They told me I had to wait a couple of days to make sure there was no infection, then I would go and have the body cast put back on from my neck to my knees and would stay this way for the next six months. I was very happy when this day came as it was the same day I was to go back to the girls’ ward and be with all my friends again. Most of all I would be able to go to school again. I was so excited to start school again and to see my friends. I didn’t like having to stay in bed; I missed going out into the porch and running with the moon. Soon another birthday came; it was now 1940.