Remembering the Beatles
By Laura Vittorioso
It was 1964, I was 13 and scheduled for my second tibia osteotomy. The first was completed the previous year. A tibia osteotomy is done to correct for a misalignment of the leg. In my case, my knock knees were significant. Prior to the corrective surgeries, there were long straps on the outer edge of each long-legged brace that attached to the corset I had to wear for weakened back and abdominal muscles. The surgery was quite painful with a long, drawn out recovery. Today the procedure is much less arduous. In my case, the tibia (shin bone) was cut straight through just below the knee, realigned and secured with three long pins on either side. A full leg plaster cast, bent slightly at the knee and bulging out around the pins at the knee, was required to hold my leg in place. It was quite heavy and I was in it for about five months. I was confined to home and unable to attend school.
My parents drove me to Boston Children’s Hospital for the surgery. At that time, my family was living in Saco, Maine. We had moved from Melrose, Massachusetts - just north of Boston - when my father’s job was relocated to Maine. Back then, parents were discouraged from remaining at their child’s bedside during the surgery and post-surgery. They were instructed to go home. They would be notified when the surgery was over and when it was time to pick their child up. So, once I had been settled in my bed on the surgical ward, my parents promptly left, with very little fanfare. THAT was hard.
Since I had gone through the same surgical procedure the previous year, I was more prepared for what was to come. At the same time, my knowledge of what was in front of me made me even more apprehensive. Traction was set up the night before the surgery. Because it wasn’t customary at the time, I was not administered any medication to calm or relax me, prior to the surgery. I was wheeled into the surgery room and the dreaded mask with ether was placed over my mouth and nose. I felt as if I was being smothered to death.
Following the surgery, I went back to the ward. Again, I remember suffering from severe post-surgery pain and nausea. I don’t ever remember being given any pain medication. I missed my mother terribly.
The surgical ward at Boston Children’s’ Hospital was large. There were ten kids in the ward. Boys were on one side and girls were on the other. In the bed next to me was a girl my age. (I will call her “Eileen.” I do not remember her actual name, but wish I did. I vividly recall her.) Eileen was undergoing a spinal fusion - a procedure considerably more complicated than mine. She had to be kept in a full body cast for a very long time. I remember great comradery among us on the ward. Without parents or family to support us, we supported one another. When one was wheeled off to surgery we all waited and wondered how they did. We did the best we could to soothe and comfort each other during our post-surgery recovery.
Eileen had a transistor radio and we enjoyed listening to the pop tunes of the day on Boston’s WRKO. The Searchers had a hit song at the time, “Needles and Pins” and every time it came on, we would laugh and sing along to the chorus, “You’ll feel those needles and pins!”
It was February, 1964. We were all waiting in anticipation for the premier performance of the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show. We started bugging the nurses to have a TV brought into the ward so we could see the show. The nurses were pretty noncommittal so we didn’t know if we would be able to see the show. Beatle Mania was certainly with us, especially the girls. We each had picked out our favorite Beatle to be in love with. Mine was Paul McCartney because I thought he was the cutest.
The day finally arrived, February 9, 1964. The nurses were able to secure a small 12” black and white TV, which they brought into the ward on a rolling cart. They rolled all the stretchers and wheelchairs as close as they could around the small TV, and we all went wild when the Beatles sang their number one song, “I Want to Hold Your Hand.”
Both the anticipation and the Beatles’ performance gave me and my wardmates a reprieve from our pain and the long recovery we all had to endure. Once I was home, my older brother, Mike gave me the Beatles’ first album, Meet the Beatles, released in 1964. I played that album over and over on my father’s hi-fi. Listening to the Beatles helped me get through the long recovery and isolation from school and friends and ignited my love and interest in pop music.
Sixty years later, I now ask Alexa to “play music from the Beatles.” February, 2024, was the 60th anniversary of the Beatles’ appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show.
Laura Vittorioso, Kennebunk, ME
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More from Laura Vittorioso in the Survivor Story section of our website:
Laura Vittorioso: In Our Own Words