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Yesterday my younger brother had his twenty sixth surgery on his right leg. In 1953 he contacted polio and through the years surgeries have been necessary. This go round he had a total knee replacement.
When I called to talk with him before surgery he had already been wheeled in for the operation. I talked with him a couple of hours after and he was cheerful, relieved and very hopeful that the end results of the surgery will stop the excruciating pain he has been enduring for years.
Being twenty-one months older than he, I have grown up with the fact that polio made him crippled in one leg. While I would beat the putty out of anyone making fun of his limp I treated him like he didnít have a disability. Actually, he didnít have a debilitating disability, he did everything we other kids did and more. He could even dangle from a tree by one leg in his brace, like Forrest Gump. He played all kinds of sports, swam, and most summers he had surgery and a cast on his leg. My mother kept casting supplies for the times when the cast wore thin or when my brother would try to cut the cast off.
My brother has a strong faith and over the years his positive attitude has kept him mentally on track. Of course, he is not a young man now and the healing time may be longer, but I have no doubt that he will be back on his feet and this surgery will be another memory for him. Love you my brother!