July 11, 2004
In The Beginning God made man...and a Company Made A Pill.
Okay, I really should start from the beginning. I was born some 34 years ago, with a condition called Ventricular Septal Defect & Absent Pulmonary Valve. My mother suffered heavy bleeding during her pregnancy with me, something which she had not with her previous two. So she was confined to bed rest in hospital and was given a "new" pill, which was meant to sort the condition out. When I was born, neither my mother or father saw me for 3 days, until my father caused quite a stir and demanded to see his son! A doctor came and explained that I was very ill and had suffered several heart attacks in my first hours of life. Being a small county hospital in Slough, they had sent for specialists from Great Ormond street and The Royal Brompton (both in London) and whichever one arrived first, they would look after me. It was a team from The Royal Brompton and I was transferred there immediately.
The doctors explained that I had what was described as a congenital heart defect, which now a days they say is "what your born with" or its "hereditary". Well since no one in the family had a heart condition, my parents could not understand this. Later on in life, through hospital visits, we later learned that there was a group that was fighting a certain medical company, because all mothers that took this pill had suffered defects in their newborn. Today the case continues the world over. They have more money than this little group!
Anyway, the doctors explained that I had a large hole in both chambers of the heart and no pulmonary valve. The pulmonary valve is the one that pumps blood around the heart and away from the lungs. So I was very ill and they did not expect me to survive. Back in 1970 this was a very rare condition and no one in England had ever been operated on to fix this complaint. The first six years of my life I pretty much spent in hospital, with chest infections, pneumonia, whooping cough. You name it I got it. I had heart attack after heart attack. My eyes and mouth were always blue, my cheeks rosey red. The funny thing, when I was born they told my parents to expect a baby no more than 2lbs. I was well over 6 and the heaviest of my two brothers! I wasn't expected to live each time I went into hospital, but somehow I always came home...if only to return!
When I was six they decided that they really must try and operate on me. I was at my strongest I had been for months and it was now, or the end would come. They assembled a team. A Professor Joseph was my cardiologist and a M.r Chris Lincoln was to be the surgeon. I remember seeing him, as a six year old he looked like 10ft tall with big giant hands. I was scared of him. I heard them telling my mum about the risks and they said something like there was only a 5 percent chance I would survive the operation. I didn't take it in. I knew I was to have 'an operation' but never really knew the implications. It was great because I got lots of treats and my mum came in with a talking Noddy, the one where you pull a string at the back and he chats away. I loved it and it came to the theatre with me.
I survived! I had more colour, more energy, and I could breathe so much better. On day two they had me riding a little bike around the ward. It hurt like mad, but they said I must. I left hospital about 3 weeks after and my new life was ready to begin.....
Posted by Lee on July 11, 2004 03:49 AM