As best can be determined, polio, a viral disease,
has been with us at least throughout recorded human history. The result for some of those infected was
varying degrees of paralysis and even death.
Until the beginning of the twentieth century, the virus survived by
infecting new additions to the community while the majority had previously
developed immunity. This is the “herd immunity”
discussed today. In this situation the
virus is said to be endemic. Infections
would occur but they would not be widespread.
It would take human intercession, in the form improved sanitation and
hygiene, to turn polio into one of the most feared pathogens of the modern era. As we learn over and over again, human
actions can have unintended consequences.
Wikipedia provides us with this perspective.
“In children, paralysis due to
polio occurs in one in 1000 cases, while in adults, paralysis occurs in one in
75 cases. By 1950, the peak age incidence of paralytic poliomyelitis in the
United States had shifted from infants to children aged 5 to 9 years; about
one-third of the cases were reported in persons over 15 years of age. Accordingly,
the rate of paralysis and death due to polio infection also increased during
this time. In the United States, the
1952 polio epidemic was the worst outbreak in the nation's history, and is
credited with heightening parents’ fears of the disease and focusing public
awareness on the need for a vaccine. Of the 57,628 cases reported that year
3,145 died and 21,269 were left with mild to disabling paralysis.”
“At its peak in the 1940s and
1950s, polio would paralyze or kill over half a million people worldwide every
year.”
The Wikipedia account also included this note
attributed Richard Rhodes taken from “A Hole in the World.”
“Polio was a plague. One day you
had a headache and an hour later you were paralyzed. How far the virus crept up
your spine determined whether you could walk afterward or even breathe. Parents
waited fearfully every summer to see if it would strike. One case turned up and
then another. The count began to climb. The city closed the swimming pools and
we all stayed home, cooped indoors, shunning other children. Summer seemed like
winter then.”
Patrick Cockburn was an Irish lad of age six when he was
infected during an epidemic in 1956. He
wrote about his experiences with the illness and its effect on his subsequent
life in a note in the “Diary” section of the London Review of Books. The piece was titled The 1956 Polio Epidemic. Cockburn
suffered a degree of paralysis that left him, after several years of physical
therapy and some surgery, with a severe limp.
As an adult he was moved to research the disease that had assaulted him
and would eventually produce a memoire titled The Broken Boy.
“I started reading about polio,
a disease that has probably been around for thousands of years. There is an
ancient Egyptian sculpture of a man with a wasted leg, looking very much like
my own. Walter Scott was made lame by it as a child. But these were individual
cases and it wasn’t until the first half of the 20th century
that polio epidemics began to sweep through cities. Before then most people
contracted the virus in infancy, when their mother’s antibodies helped them to
gain immunity. Long before the Covid-19 pandemic made the phrase ‘herd
immunity’ infamous, the pool of people who had polio without knowing it was
large enough to prevent epidemics.”
“It was modernity that gave the
polio virus its chance: as 19th-century cities acquired
clean water supplies and efficient drainage systems, babies were no longer contracting
the virus in large enough numbers to provide collective immunity. The most
vulnerable populations were in the cities, though some lost protection through
geographic isolation…”
“…polio epidemics hit hardest in
New York, Melbourne, Copenhagen, Chicago. Disease in such places was assumed to
be associated with poverty, dirt and deprivation, but in fact it was the better
off in newly built housing who constituted the majority of the victims. An
epidemic in New York in 1916 killed 2343 people and crippled many more. Efforts
to keep people alive by mechanical means were similar to those in use now
against Covid-19: the world’s first ICU unit
was established to combat the polio epidemic in Copenhagen in 1952, with two
hundred medical students recruited to pump oxygen and air manually into the
lungs of patients who could no longer breathe on their own.”
“These epidemics were terrifying
because people didn’t understand why children were falling ill when they hadn’t
been in contact with any other sufferers. In reality, everybody was infected
without knowing it. Various communities, usually immigrants, were scapegoated.
In New York in 1916 animals were suspected of spreading the disease and 8000
dogs and 72,000 cats were killed. Many communities made ineffectual efforts to
quarantine themselves: towns in Long Island and New Jersey sent out deputy
sheriffs armed with shotguns to police the roads and turn back cars containing
children under the age of 16.”
It is often said that we should not expect the world to
be the same after Covid-19 releases us from its terror. The polio experience provides a case in
point. Much of the support for polio
vaccine development and for aid to those disabled was provided by the March of
Dimes. This charity was funded by small
donations from millions of individual citizens, a novel approach then, and
collected hundreds of millions of dollars, more than all other charities
combined at the time (save for the Red Cross).
The legions of people disabled by the disease would require the
development of new techniques for treatment and physical therapy. Their existence would also inspire the growth
of a disability rights movement to generate the legal basis for incorporating the
disabled into our society. Today, one
can only guess at the future that lies ahead for us.
Cockburn provides a comment that reminds us that our
future plans after Covid-19 should—must—include the assumption that this will
happen again.
“In 2005, having come to feel
that I had learned as much about the epidemic as I ever would, I published a
memoir, The Broken Boy. In the final
chapter, I wrote that polio was probably the last in the line of diseases –
cholera, typhus, malaria, yellow fever – capable of causing serious epidemics
around the world. Polio epidemics had a surprisingly short career: less than
seventy years between the end of natural immunity and the widespread use of the
Salk vaccine. It was a story with a seemingly happy ending. Few people realised
– certainly I didn’t – that if polio epidemics were a product of modernity then
the way might be open for other epidemics of equal severity.”
There is a lot of human intervention with unintended
consequences involved in the origin of Covid-19 and that of other viral
pathogens that have emerged in recent years.
The rapid increase in our population provides greater human densities
that are ideal locations for propagating diseases. We are spreading out and inhabiting locations
where humans were once few and far between.
We should not be surprised when we discover new and dangerous viruses lurking
therein. Diseases once easily controlled
within local regions are now at risk of wide dissemination by denser and more
mobile populations. We have changed our
relationship to animal populations. Our
industrialized treatment of vast herds of animals for our food supply also
creates new opportunities for new pathogens to develop that can be transferred to
us. Bats tend to nest in highly dense
configurations that invite the transmission of diseases and have been
identified as likely sources of the viruses that plague us these days. But we should realize that our population
spread is also limiting the areas acceptable for bat inhabitation altering the communication
paths between different bat populations and forcing them to reside in locations
physically closer to us and the animals with whom we reside. Our interest in pursuing exotic food sources
has also put us at greater risk. And we
should not forget that our ubiquity puts animals at risk of being infected by
pathogens transferred from us.
We are disturbing the world and its ecologies in a major
way by our mere presence. Add to that
the impact of our climate change and we can expect diseases unknown to us to
migrate along with their hosts as they follow the temperature changes. Our southern states are already at greater
risk as tropical diseases move northward.
We must assume that escaping from Covid-19 is not the end
of a story. The lesson to be learned is
that it can happen again, and it might be much worse next time. The world will never be quite the same again. Life could be worse, or life could be
better. The choice is ours to make. Hopefully, wisdom will prevail.
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