When I got out of the hospital, the doctors told my parents, “Parents aren’t going to want any of their children to play with her because they will be afraid they will catch polio,” even though they wouldn’t, but still, not enough was known about it. They said, “The best thing for her is to let her do whatever she has done before that she liked to do. Skating would be a good thing, since that’s something she did.” I remember very clearly going to the rink that first time — it seemed huge after being in the hospital so long — and hanging on to the barrier, sort of creeping along it, and staying down at one end. But when I found that my muscles could do some things, it made me appreciate them more. I’ve often wondered if maybe the reason it appealed to me so much was that I had a chance to appreciate my muscles, knowing what it was like when I couldn’t use them.