 |
| Grandma & Grandpa Hartley |
This is a story my father, Jim
Hartley, put together about his mother (my grandmother), Norma Miner Hartley,
and the time she went through knee replacement surgery. There are lots of
lessons one can learn from this experience, but the charitable acts of a number
of women and even my own father helping my grandmother through physical therapy and recovery catches my attention the most. Overall, this story helps give me a desire to be more charitable and
Christ-like to those in need. Below are my father's words:
'Norma Miner Hartley was an
active, industrious woman. She was always busy with something—raising her five
boys, maintaining and beautifying the home, caring for elderly parents, helping
the neighbors, spoiling grandchildren, and being involved in church activities.
She was extremely talented. She had a beautiful soprano voice. She was an
excellent pianist. She loved square dancing with her husband. She arranged
flowers and made a variety of handsome crafts. She was an expert genealogist. She
could reupholster a sofa and refinish a dining room table. She was a skilled seamstress,
a wonderful cook, and a strong teacher and leader. Put simply, Norma was a
“doer.” Very little could slow her down. But one thing eventually did—her
crooked leg.
In the early 1930’s, Norma
attended Brigham Young University for two years. While there, she earned a
block letter in debate, performed in dramatic productions, and sang in the
school chorus. She was well-liked, and was selected by her college social unit to
compete for the school’s title of Miss Popularity.
During a college physical
education class Norma participated in some relay races and was injured in a
freak accident. As she reached out to pass the relay baton to the next girl,
the girl’s foot kicked her right knee and dislocated her knee cap. Norma was in
a leg cast for about a month. Afterward, everything seemed to go very well.
But, the next four decades of active life slowly wore down her knee. Arthritis
set in. Cartilage deteriorated. Her leg became increasingly bent outward, and
along with it, her mobility became more and more limited and painful.
In the early 1970’s medical
researchers were developing a revolutionary new procedure called total knee
arthroplasty (TKA)—in layman’s terms, total knee replacement. In those days,
the procedure began with an eight inch cut on the front of the knee from the
top to the bottom. The damaged bone and cartilage were then surgically removed.
An artificial knee joint made of stainless steel and plastic was inserted and
glued to the thigh bone (the femur) and the main shin bone (the tibia).
Finally, ligaments and tendons were reattached and tightened, and the knee was
stitched closed.
Dr. Richard B. Welch, an
orthopedic surgeon at St. Mary’s Hospital in San Francisco, California, was one
of the pioneering doctors who performed the new surgery. Norma arranged for an
examination. It was obvious from x-rays that the hinge on the right side of
Norma’s knee had completely disintegrated, and the left side was rapidly doing
the same. The doctor warned that within a few months, she would completely lose
the use of her leg.
On May 21, 1973 Norma underwent
the surgery. The surgeon successfully inserted the artificial knee joint and straightened
her leg. She spent 24 days recovering in the hospital. Every day during that
period her devoted husband, Charlie, made the long drive across the San
Francisco Bay to be with and encourage her.
After returning home, she was
prescribed nine months of physical therapy. During the first several months,
women from her LDS ward would come three times each day to help her exercise
her knee. She would lay face down on the kitchen table while her knee and leg were
systematically bent, moved, and manipulated. Each session of therapy brought intense
pain and tears . . . lots of tears!
In addition to the pain of the
therapy, Norma suffered from severe muscle cramps in her leg, especially during
the nights. Charlie was hard of hearing in one ear. When he slept on his good
hear, he could not hear Norma quietly weeping in intense pain. Norma did not
want to awaken him. So, she would lay in agony in the darkness softly crying
and praying for the cramps to stop. Frequently her son, Jim, would hear her crying
and would slip into her bedroom to massage her leg. While doing so, he would
calm her by gently singing and humming one of her favorite pioneer hymns, “Come,
Come Ye Saints.”
Come, come ye
saints.
No toil nor
labor fear.
But with joy,
wend your way.
Though hard to
you,
This journey may
appear,
Grace shall be
as your day.
Tis better far
for us to strive
Our useless
cares from us to drive.
Do this and joy,
your hearts will swell
All is well! All is well!
All is well! All is well!
The hymn was most appropriate.
Norma had a strong Mormon pioneer heritage, and now she herself was a pioneer
in the advancement of medical science.
Over time, she graduated from a
wheelchair to crutches to a walker to a cane and finally she could walk without
any assistance. It took nearly two years, but Norma was able to return to her full,
active, industrious life. She began square dancing again with her husband. They
traveled together to Mexico and to many locations in the United States,
including Alaska and Hawaii. After her husband died in 1976, Norma served as a
full-time proselyting missionary in Colorado for the LDS Church. She remarried
in 1982. With her second husband, Paul Haymond, she served another mission as
an LDS family history missionary.
Indeed, Norma Hartley was a
“doer.” Until her death on April 28, 1992 from heart failure, there was very
little that could ever slow her down!'
-------------------------
Adapted
by James E. Hartley from an autobiographical oral history of Norma Miner
Hartley, interviewed and recorded by their son, William G. Hartley, along with
input from Norma’s daughter-in-law, Susan Roberts Hartley, and son, James E. Hartley
#/media/File:SV_Europa_barque_2007-07.jpg){kind=link}
