About Erickson: His Physical Struggles

By Mrs. Elizabeth Erickson

"As original as Erickson was as a hypnotist, psychotherapist, and teacher, he was even more of an original in the way that he lived his life. There were evidences of this every hour, but his individuality was particularly well-expressed in the way he surmounted staggering physical obstacles on his way to a full life. Erickson's numerous physical problems are recounted below in a letter dated December 10, 1984, from his wife, Elizabeth Erickson...Although her account isn't meant as one, Mrs. Erickson's memories are an eloquent testimonial to this area of Erickson's genius..."

About Erickson: His Physical Struggles

"My late husband, Milton H. Erickson, suffered his initial attack of poliomyelitis at the age of 17 (in 1919). It was an extremely severe infection. He was completely paralyzed, unable to do other than speak and move his eyes and was aware that he was not expected to survive. He was cared for in his farm home by his mother and a live-in practical nurse. As the paralysis subsided to some extent, this nurse, on her own, used the type of therapy later popularized (against much medical opposition) by the Australian nurse, Sister Kenny. That is, she developed a system of hot packs, massage, and moving the paralyzed limbs, and motivating patient participation."

"Milton, on his own, developed a system of mental concentration on a minimum movement, mentally reliving such movement over and over. As he regained more strength, he utilized every opportunity to exercise more and more muscles to strengthen them, learning to walk with crutches, learning to balance on and ride his bicycle; and finally, by obtaining a canoe, some basic provisions and camping gear, a few dollars, he planned a summer-long canoe trip, starting at the lake near the University of Wisconsin campus, following the waterway to the Mississippi River and proceeding south beyond St. Louis, returning upriver the same way."

"A friend planned on accompanying him but at the last moment withdrew. Milton proceeded alone in spite of his physical handicaps, not telling his parents it would be a trip alone. After many adventures and coping with multiple problems, but learning various means of such coping, and meeting many interesting characters, some of them helpful, he completed the trip in far better health with powerfully developed shoulder muscles, ready to undertake college and medical school."

"He told me many years later that his permanent loss of muscles, mostly on the right side, would ordinarily have led to carrying the left shoulder much higher than the right, and a visibly twisted torso. By dint of sheer physical effort, practiced in front of a mirror, he managed to level off his shoulders, greatly increasing the spinal curvature which would have resulted in any case from the polio, but would have been to a much lesser degree. He felt that the more nearly normal appearance was well worth the effort. During World War II, he was given a very intensive physical examination to see if he could be qualified for limited service as a medical officer. X rays taken of his spine at that time were met with amazement and disbelief by the specialists doing the examination."

"While he was justifiably proud of this achievement of level shoulders, in retrospect it may have had some long-term bad effects. In his later years, one of his more knowledgeable physicians told me that at least some of his recurrent periods of complete disability, progressive loss of muscles, and great pain might be due to settling of bones of the twisted spinal column aggravated by arthritic changes, leading to pinching and further degeneration of the surviving portions of the spinal nerves."

"I first met Milton in 1935 and we were married in 1936. He then was a vigorous, active man, with a marked limp on the right side. He walked with a cane but could do so for long distances. He had broad, powerful shoulders."

"He had some brief episodes of pain in muscles and joints, but nothing serious that I can recall until the late 1940s. During the war, the staff duties at Eloise Hospital (later known as Wayne County General Hospital and Infirmary at Eloise) were greatly increased due to lack of personnel. He was also involved in teaching Residents at Eloise, and medical students in the accelerated medical school program at Wayne University College of Medicine in downtown Detroit. Additionally, he spent many hours (either before or after a full day's session at Eloise) giving psychiatric examinations to military inductees at the downtown induction station, riding there and back on the bus as we did not have gasoline. All this work did not bother him."

"A point I now wish to make is that his recurrent attacks usually seemed to be triggered by some severe physical stress. In the late summer or early fall of 1947, he was riding his bicycle from our apartment on the grounds to his office (also on the grounds, some distance away). He rode for exercise. A dog ran against the wheel and he was thrown, sustaining scrapes and superficial cuts, some on the face area and with ground-in dirt."

"He had never had tetanus toxoid, so decided that no matter the risk (because of his life-long multiple allergies) to take the old style tetanus antitoxin shots. About 10 days later he developed severe serum sickness, including muscle pains, a near-comatose episode, and other symptomatology. He would partly recover, resume his office work and some teaching, then would become ill again."

"Finally, in the spring of 1948, he became so ill that he was hospitalized at the University of Michigan Hospital in Ann Arbor. None of the doctors, including the outstanding neurologists there, could offer any advice except that the cold wet Michigan winter and his multiple fall and spring allergies were aggravating his condition and that we should consider taking leave for the summer and spending it in a dry, warm area with clean air and away from the allergens of Michigan."

"We decided on Phoenix, Arizona, because it was the only place in Arizona, Nevada, or New Mexico where we knew anyone. The Superintendent of Arizona State Hospital (the only institution in the entire state of less than 800,000 population which accommodated the mentally ill, alcoholics, senile, grossly retarded, and the "criminally insane" in a separate branch) was Dr. John Larson, an old friend, formerly a prominent Detroit psychiatrist and research physiologist. He had come out West for his young son's health and was running this small, minimally funded institution in antiquated buildings with a minimal, elderly medical staff; and was doing an incredibly able job of making it one of the most progressive and well-run institutions in the Southwest. Milton was pleased to be able to help. At the end of June, I drove out to Arizona with the four youngest children. The two older boys, then 17 and 19, stayed in Michigan. A few days after I left, Milton left the Ann Arbor hospital and was put on the plane by a friend to travel to Arizona, where Dr. Larson met him and put him up until I arrived a few days later. Milton was then recovering. We stayed at a motel a week, and then rented a small cottage for the summer."

"During that time, I only recall one fairly short episode of relapse, and he felt so well he decided to join the State Hospital staff. I flew home for a few days and made moving arrangements, and on my return we moved to the hospital grounds. The 17-year-old son joined us by bus. Until spring of 1949, Milton worked hard, enthusiastically and with much energy, developing progressive changes at the State Hospital. Then Dr. Larson had a clash with a group of political members of the Arizona State Board of Control, resigned, and left the state. Milton resigned and decided to go into private practice."

"We bought a house in Phoenix and were getting ready to move when he became severely but only briefly ill. He was hospitalized for a few days during the move, then came home and slowly regained strength while he gradually built up his practice. We originally intended to rent a regular office in a medical building but at this point I think he realized that he needed to exert himself physically less and rest more, so we realized the practical advantage of using a room in the house as a study and office where, when he had a free hour or so, he could go to bed if he wished. Therefore, from then until his death in 1980, his office was in the home."

"In the fall of 1949, he was hospitalized twice - the recurrence was then considered to be a revival of the serum sickness, brought on by allergies to local allergens to which he had become sensitized, as well as dust and some foods. He had a very fine allergist who treated him for several years, recommending shots of antigens, as dust-free an environment as possible, and iden-tificatoon and avoidance of food sensitivities."

"The next and the most severe episode was in 1953. The local doctors were sympathetic but had no recommendations. A medical friend at Johns Hopkins Hospital said he would have Milton admitted there for treatment if I could get him there. I could not go with him as I had two young children, born in 1949 and 1951, besides the other children still at home. Arrangements were made for two young medical interns to go with him by train; he was met by an ambulance, and the young men flew home."

"Milton was hospitalized in Maryland for some time, recovering, and was examined by neurologists, orthopedists, and many other specialists. Then he seemed to be all right, but they still did not know of a diagnosis or a prognosis. They would have preferred to have him stay indefinitely for further testing, but he requested, and was given, a discharge and came home."

"It was apparent that although he felt okay again, he had developed a lot of additional muscle impairment. Some months later, after he was well back into the schedule of work again, an orthopedist friend was visited by a renowned neurologist. This doctor examined Milton and said that in evaluating the recent muscle loss, he could make only one reasonable diagnosis, namely, a recent poliomyelitis attack, which would be rare but not impossible, since there are three strains of the virus."

"In view of the recent findings of similar episodes in other polio victims (including recurrence of the original polio symptoms), this was a shrewd, medically astute, but possibly mistaken diagnosis. 1"

"During the remainder of Milton's life he did indeed have repeated episodes of illness, similar to the ones described. But after each episode, he was able to resume his work, traveled extensively, wrote papers, did research, and was active in organizational work and editing. Virtually every time, however, he actually lost some ground physically."

"He lost the powerful shoulder muscles to such an extent that he frequently had to use both hands to raise an eating utensil. He used a wheelchair more and more - first only for extensive travel, then most of the time, using his cane to walk less and less frequently, eventually being completely restricted to a wheelchair. At that point, he gave up traveling (1969) and in 1970 we moved to another home, which was remodeled to make it practical for wheelchair living."

"Between 1970 and 1980, he slowly lost muscular strength, developed some loss of tongue and cheek muscle control so he could no longer wear dentures nor speak as clearly, and lost ability to maintain prolonged eye-focus. He had to give up his extensive reading activity (of both professional and recreational literature). Still, his condition seemed to have stabilized, as I can only recall one fairly short episode (in 1970 or 1971) of severe illness."

"He phased out his private practice of psychiatry, giving it up completely around 1974. By then, he was beginning to get requests for teaching sessions to be conducted at our home and office. These became so popular that he was actually booked up through the end of 1980, and could have been scheduled for the next year or so. He slowly cut down the teaching hours to afternoons only, five days a week, and future bookings were being made for four days a week."

"This leads me to make another point: Although Dr. Erickson might be feeling very poorly, he would often pull himself together to give a very important lecture or to see a patient he felt was going through an acute psychiatric crisis and could not wait. He would then collapse into bed. But, in general, he would "pace" his strength, allow gaps in his schedule, go to bed for a rest; if he felt like reading, it might be very light (such as comic books)."

"In his last years, his recreation was watching television - he kept up on news of the day, loved natural history programs, and listened to commentators such as the "McNeil-Lehrer Report," but also relaxed with light programs from "Sesame Street" to "The Dukes of Hazzard."

"He continued to contribute to professional literature by collaborating with Ernest Rossi and Jeffrey Zeig, but relaxed by scribbling off in pencil the long stories of animals and of family life that he told to his children and grandchildren. He told me that the light TV and the children's stories were beneficial to him as distractions from painful sensations.
He lived to be 78-years-old, far longer than he expected, and was active through the week before his death. 11"

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1 Now being documented in persons who have had polio, this is being referred to as post-polio syndrome. Erickson's symptoms and episodes of illness were consistent with this syndrome.
11 For additional biographical information see Healing in Hypnosis (Rossi, Ryan, and Sharp, 1983.).

Copyright © 1985, Jeffrey K. Zeig, Ph.D. Taken from Experiencing Erickson: An Introduction to the Man and His Work. Brunner Mazel Publishers, Inc., New York, pp. 7-12. [Reprinted with the permission of the author]

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