Illness

Could Rheumatic Fever Leave a Person’s Heart in a Weakened State?

As we age, could some of the symptoms become worse?

After a class trip in fourth grade, I came home limping from pain in my legs. Due to my mother’s brother having rheumatic fever as a child, she recognized the signs and brought me in for a checkup. The electrocardiogram (EKG) confirmed it — I had a heart murmur, one of the symptoms of rheumatic fever.

At the time the cause was unknown, but research in later years concluded it could be caused by another infection like scarlet fever or strep throat, the latter of which my sisters and I had months earlier.

As it is an inflammatory infection affecting the heart, brain, skin, and joints, it could become quite painful, as it did for me when it affected the joints in my legs.

The treatment back in 1953 was extended bed rest and penicillin to stave off any infections as a re-occurrence would further weaken my heart.

After been given the choice of bed rest at home or hospitalization, which my parents couldn’t afford, I was sent to my bed for at least a year only being allowed to use the toilet.

Bedridden indefinitely

My mother rearranged our large bedroom where the four of us kids slept, so my small bed was easily accessible from either side so my mother could bathe and feed me easily.

It was boring, to say the least. Having been an active child and an avid roller skater made being bedridden like a death sentence.

My younger sister, bless her soul, would stop at my would-be classroom at the end of her school day, return my homework from the night before, and bring me the next day’s assignment.

At least I was keeping up with my school work so I would be able to return to my normal grade when the time came.

Bored to tears

During that time, my mother, not knowing how to entertain me, overfed me. She let me eat whatever I wanted, which included six slices of toast with butter, cinnamon and sugar, along with a cup of tea for breakfast each morning.

Our only TV was in the living room, leaving me with little to do all day but read. I read everything I could get my hands on once I finished my homework, looked forward to the extra food my mother would bring me from the weekly block party where the ladies would make their best dishes, and gobbled up the little ice cream bon bons she shared with me.

Once a week, the doctor came to my house on his rounds to administer my penicillin shots. The needles were painful and left me with visible marks on the bend of my arm.

He eventually prescribed penicillin in tablet form, which I was destined to take until I turned 18, but was unable to swallow. Skipping them was the only option as they weren’t affordable for us.

However, knowing I would not be protected with antibiotics meant avoiding other sick kids, never swallowing toothpaste as it may contain bacteria, and adhering to a list of other precautions — a scary thought for a nine-year old kid to worry about.

Freedom at last

Every six months, I was required to have a new EKG until finally, my heart murmur was almost gone. I was allowed to walk short distances with minimal stair climbing.

One day my mom let me walk to the corner to post a letter, and as I approached the mailbox, this older boy yelled out, “Hey, Tubby!”

Not having looked in the mirror or wearing normal clothes for so long, I hadn’t been aware of my weight gain. My mother had bought me a new dress saying I needed something that fit because I was older, but never mentioned I looked like a mini-blimp.

I felt bad about myself, but things were changing for the better. In addition to being allowed to take short walks, I would be attending a special needs school with no stairs.

Kids like me

Attending my old school was out of the question as it had a large staircase. I would attend most of the 6th grade in this school during my recuperation period.

Luckily for my parents, a bus picked me up in the morning and brought me home, making it much easier for my parents as my mother never drove and there were other kids at home to care for.

Most of the children in this new school were also victims of rheumatic fever, as it was still very prevalent during the 1950s. Several had polio and wore full-leg braces, some were in wheelchairs, and a few kids had other diseases. One boy, who I’ll never forget, had boils all over his body. At any given time they were forming, oozing, or drying up.

The school itself was pleasant, and I used that time to renew myself, eat smaller portions, and look forward to the day when I could resume an active life. At least the weight distributed itself better as I grew, never to be tubby again.

Back to school

One day during my six-month checkup, the doctor said my heart murmur seemed to be completely gone, but just to be sure he recommended a second opinion. The second doctor found a heart murmur.

After being examined by two more doctors, the diagnosis was split. Two thought I still had a slight heart murmur, and two thought I did not. The good news was my parents decided to pull me out of that school and let me attend regular school for most of the 6th grade.

Still, I was reminded to avoid bacterial infections, stay on penicillin until I was 18, not overdo skating or any other exercise, and have a yearly EKG, just in case.

Of course, I was not taking the penicillin that was prescribed, and as soon as I could get myself to Zeke’s Toy Store around the corner, I bought new skates to clamp onto my shoes.

I was going to live my life and not have the burden of my possibly weakened heart hanging over my head.

I started Mark Twain Junior High in the fall and attended for the whole 7th grade, and no one was the wiser. I was a normal kid attending a normal school.

Years later

As far as I knew, my heart murmur was gone. Skating was part of my life again, along with bike riding, and enjoying sports and swimming with my cousins.

But as an adult, I received mixed diagnoses. Now and then I would have a doctor tell me I still had a slight murmur; other times, no.

Still, I joined a volleyball league, learned to ballroom dance, taught aerobic dancing and belly dancing for years, had two children, and currently stay active with grandchildren.

Through it all, in the far corner of my mind, I remember my heart was weakened and could show signs of irregularity and weakness again.

Should I live in fear? No. I can’t.

I live every day as if I’m as healthy as a horse. I rarely eat red meat or drink alcohol except for a sip or two of beer, and I’ve never smoked or done drugs.

Maybe that’s helped prolong my life, or am I putting a band-aid on something I can’t heal?

Swollen joints

I do live with joint pain that’s becoming worse with age. I could feel the arthritis in my hands and knees as well as pain in my shoulders and hips.

I found during my first round of COVID-19 that everything wrong with my body previously was exasperated during and after. In my opinion, COVID took about 10 years off my life and pushed me into old age sooner than I might have gone.

The bottom line is I’ve felt as if I had been living on borrowed time since I was 8 years old, though I didn’t mention it to anyone.

I’m coming up on 79 at the time of this writing. I’ve lived over 70 years of a normal life, with each day feeling like a bonus. If I died tomorrow, it wouldn’t be a shock to anyone in my family, as everyone’s aware of my heart condition.

So here I am today, joint pain and all, living life the best I can, telling my rheumatic fever story, and wondering how many more of you are out there that had been afflicted with this disease due to another infection that was not treated correctly.

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