In this memoir, written by Charles Mee, we get an inside glimpse of what it was like to be taken down by the disease of polio. My generation is so lucky to have dodged that bullet, and as a parent, I'm so grateful to be exempt from that particular line of worry. I would have a field day with that one.
Unfortunately, Mee came down with the disease just as the vaccine was nearing its final stages of development. When he took ill, he was so profoundly affected by the virus that initially, he could only move a few fingertips and his eyeballs. To add insult to injury, he was placed in total isolation in order to quarantine the disease's spread. No one yet knew how the illness was transmitted, and no one was taking any chances of catching it. During that time, Mee lived in complete horror, unsure about whether it would be best to live or die. He realized that he was trapped in his body and that the body and mind are two very separate things.
Once it became apparent that he would live, he had to wait an agonizingly long time to see if his muscles would ever be restored to their original function. He did regain a good deal of mobility eventually, but he still walks with canes and arm braces. As he was recuperating, one of his teachers brought him a novel that would change his life. He became a voracious reader and claims that books are what saved his life. They were his comfort and his joy during his excruciating recovery.
As he began to recover, it quickly became apparent that he would never regain full function of his body's muscles. However, he took an interest in writing, and knew that though he could never compete again in the sports arena, he could certainly compete on the page. His passion for writing opened his life in ways that may never have been available to him had he remained physically healthy. He has always related to outsiders and enjoys being a member of their ranks. His prose is gorgeous, and it makes you appreciate the things you take for granted, like a functioning body. For all you Brooklynites, you may have seen him around the neighborhood. His canes are fire engine red and he's always on the street. Enjoy.
and feel like I have to start it right over again so I can try to deconstruct it. I'd say he has the market on evil pretty much cornered. I've never read more horrifying descriptions of death and battle and murder and survival (except in 'The Road', also by McCarthy). It's all so devastating, but it's like roadkill, you have to look. 
