The LIttle Girl Who Refused to Die, Then Filled the World with Love

     Little was known about the disease called "rheumatic fever" in the 1930s.  In the 1920s RF was the leading cause of death in individuals between 5 and 20 years of age and was second only to tuberculosis in those between 20 and 30.  The only treatment was salicylates and bed rest.  The majority remained at home, often for months, with a terrible illness which caused painful swelling of all joints and extreme damage to the heart.  Undernutrition and lack of access to healthcare played a role in the persistence of this disease which was usually a complication of strepp throat.
    As the use of penicillin was limited during the Great Depression, this disease was fairly common and usually led to death.  It was not known whether the disease was contagious or if it were, how it was spread and it was not until 1944 that criteria for the disease were established.
    Today, with the prevalence of antibiotics and the scientific/medical testing of symptoms there are very few cases of RF in first world countries.  But in 1937, a little girl named Jane, was very sick and diagnosed with RF.  Her parents had five other children to take care of and very little money.  Her dad worked for the WPA driving his truck to supply building materials for the work that was going on in their little town in Kansas.

Not long after her second recovery. Jane is second from right

     The doctors believed that there was very little hope for Jane to survive.  Her symptoms were serious - high fever which left her exhausted, unable to eat and required constant attention which her parents were unable to give her due to the demands of a large family.  She also had extreme pain in all of her swollen joints to the extent that she screamed if anyone touched her or tried to move her.
     The doctor told her parents that there was very little that could be done for her and recommended that they move her into a woman's home in town who was renting out rooms to make some money during the depression.  So, this little 14 year old girl, was moved out of her home and into the home of a woman named Gertie Farmer to live out the last few months of her life without putting a further strain on her family.
     This sounds harsh, but her mom knew she couldn't devote the time to Jane that was needed to keep her comfortable and the doctor told the family that she would not live much longer than a couple of months.
     As we are all staying in our houses and keeping a distance from the people that we enjoy being with and the places where we want to go, I've been thinking a lot about this little girl who was separated from her family and sent away to die in a stranger's house with people she did not know.  Her family was discouraged from visiting her until her symptoms abated as she could still be contagious.  So, there she was all alone in physical pain and exhaustion and emotional pain being apart from all those that she loved.  And waited to die.
     She adored school and missed all of her friends there and the classes and teachers that she loved.  There was nothing for her to do at this new home except to think about dying - away from all that she held dear.  She was confined to her bed as it was believed that any movement would exacerbate the disease and anyway, she was in such pain that any movement was unbearable.
     There was a young man who was also sent to Gertie's house to die from RF - and he did, within a few weeks of arriving there.  But Gertie, whom Jane came to call "Aunt Gertie" told Jane that she was not going to allow her to die!  Aunt Gertie went to the library and found books about RF.  She read everything she could find - which at that time was pretty limited.  And while she had once been quite wealthy and in earlier times would have had the money to hire the best doctors and find the best cure, she now had very little other than her house due to the depression.  But she found some research that indicated a few helpful treatments that she could do for Jane.
     Aunt Gertie fed her raw liver and raw eggs.  These were supposed to boost the blood and therefore strengthen the heart.  Aunt Gertie made her a drink similar to eggnog that she ended up really enjoying.  On the days when Jane's pain was not as intense she would wheel her out to the big front porch and sit her, bare chested, in the sunlight.  Jane spent her days reading, writing and drawing - 3 things she really enjoyed.
     When the doctors believed that she was no longer contagious, they told her family that they could come for short visits.  She really looked forward to those days!  And slowly, she regained her strength and the pain became much less and after about 6 months with Aunt Gertie she was able to go home.  She had to learn to walk again as her legs had lost their muscle strength and it was a slow recovery which never did bring her back to full health.  At least she could attend school half days - that was all she could manage before total exhaustion set in and she would have to go to bed for a couple of hours.  Never again would she be able to run and play like normal teenagers.  But she was alive, thanks to the determination of Aunt Gertie, the Grace of God - and her own refusal to just give up.
      And wouldn't it be nice if that were the happy ending of the story.  But there's so much more.  Within a year Jane had a relapse!  Once again she was sent to Aunt Gertie's and once again the former treatments began and became a routine - for another 6 months.  This time after her recovery, the doctor told her that she could not ever hope to lead a normal life.  She would require constant heart medications and limited physical activities.  She was warned that marriage and babies were probably not in her future as anything that would cause an acceleration of her heartbeat or any stress on her heart could be potentially fatal.

Taken in 1941 before her Senior Year

With her brother, Gale, and sister, Carolee in 1943

     But, she was alive and felt so extremely thankful to Aunt Gertie - who remained a close friend for years to follow - and to God who had seen her through this ordeal that had robbed her of a year of her life.  She started high school that year after her second recovery and her principal was determined to take good care of her.  Since some of her classes were on the second floor of the building and there was no way she could climb the stairs, he got some of the football players to meet her at the bottom (or top) of the stairs where they made a chair with their arms and carried her to her next class.  Her schedule was shortened compared to other students, but she was determined to graduate with the kids she had started school with as a child.  Her teachers would bring materials to her on those days and times that she was unable to be in class.  Everyone was routing for Jane!!
     Jane's most endearing quality was the love and joy that she brought to everyone.  Here was a little girl who had every right to be angry at the world for the illness that had taken a year of her life - had taken her away from everyone and everything that she loved.  But Jane had even more love to give than anyone else and spent the rest of her life sharing that love.
     In 1944, Jane fell in love with a soldier she met at a USO party.  She shared with him all the concerns of the doctors and the fact that she should never have any children.  Did he really want to be involved with someone who could not give him a family?  Yes!  He said he was fine with adoption if that is what would insure her health.  He loved her tremendously and promised to do all he could to keep her healthy.  4 months after they met, they were married in her parent's home in Kansas.

Wedding photo September 1944

     The story continues!  He took Jane to meet his parents and shared with them their desire to adopt since Jane had been told that having a baby would put too much of a strain on her heart.  His dad stated that he could never accept an adopted child as his grandchild!  So now, what should they do.
Jane had been feeling so well for the previous 5 years and doctors were quite amazed at her recovery although her heart was damaged and 2 of the 4 valves had significant leaks.  She and her dear husband decided to visit as many doctors as they could and get as many opinions as possible regarding her health and hoped and prayed that there would be a doctor who felt that her heart was strong enough to survive labor and delivery.  And, they found one!
     Eight years after they were married they had a healthy baby girl.  It was a difficult labor for Jane and probably caused more damage to her heart valves, but they were so overwhelmed with love and joy for their new baby girl that Jane never had any doubts that they had done the right thing and was willing to live with the extra damage.  Her love and joy would see her through.

Our little family in 1955

     She saw a cardiologist on a regular basis and while medical science learned more about the workings of the heart there was still very little that could be done for weak and failing valves other than trying different medications to keep the heart beating regularly.  Jane continued her daily naps which had begun as a teenager.  Her body required that time every day to rest.  She limited her physical activities and anything that would cause a change in her heart beats - which sounded more and more like water flowing through a seashell.
     In 1980 the newest advancement in heart valve science was valve replacement surgery.  It was recommended that Jane have 2 of her valves replaced.  The doctor told her that if she did not have this surgery she would probably not live another 5 years.  In those early days of valve replacement they were using pig valves and the average patient lived about 5 years longer with the pig valves.  Not very hopeful for having to undergo such an invasive surgery.  Jane decided to not have the surgery done saying that she had more trust in God's power than the limited knowledge of cardiology.
     By now you have probably guessed that the little girl who refused to die was my mom, Jane Ooley Manchester.  Mom lived to be almost 91.  It is still a mystery as to how such a damaged heart gave her so many years.  All of her valves were leaking and her heart was enlarged due to scar tissue around the valves.  The heart is an amazing organ.  The body is an amazing machine!  In some people it seems that the body can compensate for injury and illness which in other people would take their lives.  I believe that Mom lived because she was filled with joy and love for life and for others.
     Everyone who knew my mom was, over the years, a recipient of cards and letters from my mom that were filled with words of love and joy and encouragement.  I have never known anyone else who was so prolific in sending out these messages of love.  I can't imagine how much money she spent on paper, cards and stamps over her 75 years of passing on her love.  I know she began sending out messages of love back in her days at Aunt Gertie's.  Everyone she knew got birthday cards, anniversary cards, Christmas cards and always with a letter attached.  Kids got dimes and gum and balloons in their cards!  She never let any event in anyone's life go by without a card or gift - weddings, deaths, births, graduations.  She wanted everyone to know that she loved them and cared about their lives.
     I was so blessed to have this little girl grow up to become my mom.  And I guess I have to thank my Grandpa Manchester for being so stubborn and vocal about not wanting an adopted child.  Maybe he just said that to encourage my parents to find a way to have their own biological child as I'm sure he could tell how much they wanted a baby.  I'll cling to that thought!

My precious parents - photos taken in 1947 and 2002

     I guess the reason I'm writing about Mom is to show that none of us is promised tomorrow.  We can either look at the world with anger and bitterness and blame - or we can look at everyday as an opportunity to do something to brighten someone else's day by spreading some love and joy.  Kindness is never out of fashion!  We should all aspire to be like the little girl who refused to die.