Me and Dr. Adam Finn from the Children's Hospital

One sunny spring afternoon at the active age of 6 my life as a normal child changed dramatically when I was rushed into hospital with a fatal disease. It all started with a simple headache which developed into a bad stomach ache, so my mum said I could have the day off school. My mum was in the back garden hanging out washing and I was making my way upstairs to the toilet, when I suddenly fainted. My mum found me collapsed on the stairs and immediately saw a rash rapidly appearing. I can’t remember much from then, just the paramedic trying to get me to walk, and having to be carried half way to an ambulance.

My mum came with me to the hospital, and I was put straight into intensive care as soon as I arrived. I was diagnosed with meningitis. There are many types of meningitis and I had meningococcal disease. This is life a life threatening mix of two different diseases; meningitis and septicaemia. At this time, my baby brother Daniel was around 1 month old. My mum would stay with me overnight and my dad and other family members would visit. I wasn’t allowed near Daniel because of the infection. My mum also missed out on seeing him a lot due to spending time with me. I remained in intensive care for around three weeks then I was finally admitted onto a ward to be monitored. It was then that I was allowed to see my baby brother, who had had his injections, but it was only a brief visit.

Whilst on the ward, I constantly had to have needles in the veins of my arms, called candelas. I can remember that one night, I was awoken to have my needle, but there were no visible veins in my arm so I had to be rushed to a room where more veins could be found. They eventually found one in my foot and because I was crying and so scared my mum held me down to stop me fidgeting. I was told to lie back, and look at the paintings on the ceiling. I remember it being a scrabble board. Funny the things you remember in strange situations. I was terrified by this point, and the needles were beginning to hurt more and more each day and have since left me with an aversion to them.

My grandparents were traumatised by the disease, as on both sides of the family, children have died, at the ages of 3, 4 and 17. My mum and dad were also traumatised, as not only was I there first child, I was their only daughter, and my grandparents first granddaughter. I was ill for around five weeks. After being released from the hospital, I had to go back on a regular basis for more needles, and I was unable to walk a long distance for some time. In fact my mum took me round in a pram!
As a young child, I was hugely affected by this traumatic experience, even though I have no physical injuries, except a few scars on my legs and arms, and one at the side of my left eye. When I arrived back at school, I was bullied to the fullest, as nobody wanted to be my friend anymore, because I was ‘diseased’. This highly affected my temper, and I would harm my brother, Brett. As a result I was sent to an art therapy class every Tuesday afternoon for around 6 months to calm down my temper. It made a big difference to me and introduced me to my artistic side. I enjoyed it so much I think it has reflected on my artistic abilities today, as art always makes me feel relaxed.

In order to have a chance of survival, meningococcal disease has to be treated straight away. I had an unfortunate 7% chance of dying, and a shocking 15% chance of surviving but having to live the rest of my life with missing, or possibly no limbs. Luckily, I survived this terrible ordeal with all of my limbs intact. Although I am fortunate enough to be healthy, it has weakened my immune system, so I am prone to catch colds, and develop cold sores or impetigo easily. This I see as a small price to pay for living a normal life and I know not all children are as fortunate as me.

There is no definite answer to how the disease was passed onto me. A possible cause could be that it was passed by saliva I had got on my hands and accidentally passed to my mouth from my surroundings, maybe when I was out playing.

I have kept a range of things from that time. It’s what people do when something important happened to them. I have some ‘Bravery Award’ certificates I was given for all the needles I endured. I have Barbie stickers from lollies my Nan Nan bought me and various other bits I will keep and show my own children. I am very grateful to the children’s hospital in Sheffield, for helping me through this disease. All the doctors and nurses and staff who look after lots of ill children every day. I’m grateful to Mike the art therapist who taught me to explore my creativity. Most of all I’m grateful to my family for helping me through this.

Having a disease that could have killed me has definitely affected who I am today and given me a different insight into life that I wouldn’t have had had I grown up without the experience. Still today I get names thrown at me for catching cold sores and impetigo, but I have learnt that name calling is childish. I am strongly against bullying. Many young people don’t understand the consequences of name calling and rejection, but I know they are more serious than they may seem.