Whilst watching the closing ceremony of the paralympic games, during Coldplay 'yellow' there was a group of dancers with a lady in a wheelchair - and I caught my breath, my throat closed and my eyes stung for my sister who died almost 30 years ago and who was severely disabled with spina bifida and hydrocephalus and would have loved this, the ceremony and celebration and that disabled people should not ever be hidden* - my heart broke again for our loss of her too soon, too young, too tragically. I will never ever forget her or that day. I was 10 and held her hand (this is not something from the Hallmark channel) - she was very ill and had been sent home from her 'special' school, at the time she laid on our sofa, my mother was hanging out the washing, my dad was in his shed with my little brother, my other brothers were out or in army camp. Her breathing was laboured, my mum had come home early from work and had phoned the doctor who would not come until the end of his surgery, I held her hand and heard the 'death rattle', she stopped breathing and I ran, out to the garden to tell mum and all hell broke loose.
I will never forget being outside when the ambulance men came and rushed in and the one with the oxygen tank was told that it wasn't needed, I screamed and couldn't stop. My mother had a nervous breakdown after the funeral (to which I wasn't allowed to go) and took to her bed for weeks after, it was a bad time and we never recovered as a family, my father had chronic depression from then on as she was his favourite and the rest of us didn't mind that. She was 17.
She died from ignorance - that she had pneumonia and my parent's trust of the doctors 'importance'.
I will never forget being outside when the ambulance men came and rushed in and the one with the oxygen tank was told that it wasn't needed, I screamed and couldn't stop. My mother had a nervous breakdown after the funeral (to which I wasn't allowed to go) and took to her bed for weeks after, it was a bad time and we never recovered as a family, my father had chronic depression from then on as she was his favourite and the rest of us didn't mind that. She was 17.
She died from ignorance - that she had pneumonia and my parent's trust of the doctors 'importance'.
Ann, you were beautiful and I love you still....
Susan x
* My mother was told after her birth to leave her in the hospital, to go home to her two young boys and forget her as she would soon die or be put into a 'home', needless to say she brought her home and we never regretted it.
Such a moving post,I hope you are not too sad. We used to believe that doctors and policemen were infallible, not true in fact but we were all more trusting of authority then.
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