In our house, vaccines came with sugar cubes, stories of iron lungs, and deep respect for the protection they offered.

I grew up watching my mother fall—physically and emotionally—after surviving polio. One afternoon at a dental school parking lot, my lunch money became our way home and taught me something I’ve never forgotten about love, dignity, and resilience.

When my mother was eight years old, she became ill during the summer polio outbreak. After a misdiagnosis, a spinal tap confirmed poliomyelitis. The health department quarantined the house, and for months her mother kept her alive through isolation, fear, and relentless care during one of the most dangerous eras of childhood illness.