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Despite Ingeborg's pnraysis, doctors were able to remove her from the iron lung long enough for birth of her third child a normal, healthy baby girl named Doores.
I Am an "Iron-Lung" Mother
Twice she has left a respirator to deliver children; now she vows to leave it forever
By INGEBORG CULLY
For the second time since I was stricken with
paralytic polio four years ago, doctors re
moved me from my iron lung last August for the
birth of a baby.
For a moment, the team of six doctors let my
husband, Army Sgt. Jack Cully, press my useless
hand. I knew that for every labor pain I endured,
he was undergoing threefold torments.
Through a tube inserted in my neck, oxygen was
forced into my lungs during the hour it required
to deliver the beautiful baby girl we named Do
lores. Next, I dimly remember being rolled back
into the iron lung which has been my prison since
July 1G, 1956, the day before I gave birth to my
first son, Jackie.
Today the fears I lived with for months have
been replaced by the joys of having a healthy in-"
fant girl. And now with my loved ones around me
again and with kind neighbors to help, I feel on the
threshold of - a new career taking care of my
family and of our home in New York City.
I know this career won't be easy. Except for a
little movement in my legs, I am paralyzed from
my neck down. But since God in His bounty has
given us another baby, I am determined to show
my gratitude by becoming a homcmaker again.
Certainly I am far better off than I was. For one
thing, the March of Dimes of the National Founda
tion has spent almost $25,000 to bring me to the
point where I can think about doing things for
others instead of the other way around. Today I
can breathe by means of a chest respirator while
in my wheel chair or rocking bed, instead of living
in the iron lung. And I pray for the success of an
experimental artificial muscle which may permit
me to move my arms and hands some day.
There already are some things I can do at home.
If he holds up the book, I can read aloud to Jackie.
And with one foot, I can gently prod him on his
bottom when he's naughty. I tutor Helen, 10, our
oldest child, with her homework, often while she's
combing my hair or exercising my fingers. With
National Foundation aid, 1 have taught myself to
use an electric typewriter, using a "mouth stick"
to write my parents in Berlin, Germany, where I
met and married my GI husband 11 years ago. I
can even switch on the TV set with my toes.
These activities may seem meager, even trivial,
but I feel they are hopeful steps toward the day I
will leave my wheel chair and walk beside my
husband and children.
That day I will be a real homemaker again.
With the aid of a chest respirator, Ingeborg can sit up
while she tutors her oldest child, Helen, who is noiv ten.
COVER:
Sweet and sassy, actress Shirley AfacLaine
is known to Jans for the unique relent she
has of bringing tenrj to our eyes or mak
ing us laugh with a simple gesture or a few
words. Read Shirley's oun story on page 8.
Family
Weekly
January 29, 1961
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