By: Margie Burton for her sister, Helen Jessup
My sister Helen was born nearly 72 years ago. Mom had a challenging pregnancy after months of infertility treatments. The premature delivery was a difficult one requiring forceps that damaged both frontal lobes of Helen’s brain. Her infant and toddler milestones showed slight delays but all seemed to be progressing reasonably well until a sudden seizure at the age of three. She had been riding her tricycle in the driveway when she slumped over and fell to the ground, not breathing. Mom, an obstetrical nurse, ran out and immediately began CPR while driving her to the nearest hospital. Helen was revived, but being without oxygen for some time caused more brain damage. She was never able to ride her tricycle again.
Helen went to regular public schools for kindergarten and elementary school. She had difficulty and repeated a grade when she did not develop number sense and could not read well. When Helen was ten and starting 4th grade, the teacher declared that she could not have her in class as she was too far behind in her learning. In those days, school districts did not have accommodations for disabled learners. My parents were dismayed as the options in our little New Hampshire town were limited. They finally found a boarding school in Massachusetts that catered to students with limited academic abilities. It was expensive, but my parents could not find an alternative willing to accept her.
Helen had been quite sheltered in her 10 years of life, and she felt abandoned by her family at the boarding school. She did not understand what she had done to be sent away from her loved ones. She slowly progressed in her academics but emotionally life was very difficult for her.
During Helen’s teenage years she began to put on quite a bit of weight. My mom seemed to look the other way, declaring that Helen enjoyed few pleasures besides food. At the age of 20 she graduated from her school program with a certificate of completion and came home to live. My parents tried to find places for her to go and things for her to do, but she continued to find comfort in food.
Our dad passed away quite suddenly in 1973 at the age of 62. Helen was devastated. He had been her comforter and her strength. When our mom died 25 years later, Helen became my responsibility. By then, her eating pleasures had taken a big toll on her health. She had type 2 diabetes, high cholesterol, and high blood pressure. She also suffered from emotional instability and severe depression. She went through various testing to see what public services were available. She could talk like an 8 year old but problem-solved at a two-year old level. That would never change.