Being poorly when young.

Katek - your story sounds like my brother's. Whilst he had a different condition, he was in hospital for about one year. We visited at the weekend and my mother visited on Wednesdays whilst a neighbour looked after me. Treatment for his condition had changed completely when I came across it again in the 80s - children weren't kept in hospital.

A couple of things, I had a cleft palate repair at 18 months, as far as I'm aware my mother was not allowed to stay with me, but she did comment that the ward sister complained that I was not potty trained! My mother told her that I was (really?) but was NOT trained to perform on demand in a line up with others.

Obviously I don't remember that, but as someone who had migraines every 4 to 6 weeks from the age of two, I remember my tablets being crushed up, mixed with jam, then followed by a glass of milk and a square of Cadburys chocolate.

The tablets were white on the outside, pink in the middle, tasted vile!

Auntyflo I discovered NAWCH after my 3 year old daughter spent a week in hospital and I refused to leave her. There was absolutely nothing for the children to do and I spent much of my time there carrying a toddler who cried her heart out in her cot and no nurse ever went to comfort him. When we came home I got together with two other mothers and formed an area NAWCH group. I went into our local hospital with simple activities and books (and my one year old in his pushchair) once a week, and we went fundraising to buy toys, mostly from having collecting jars in pubs. Seven years later my son had an operation and we were with him before and after and I slept beside him and toys were available; NAWCH's greatest success was not needing to exist any more.

As for my own experience 65 years ago as a ten year old I had two operations on my eyes and my parents were only allowed to visit on Sundays. Both my eyes were covered, the rubber mask and the smell of the gas were terrifying, no-one ever told me what was going to happen and I woke up in a bed in an adult ward with bandaged eyes. I needed a wee and tried to get out of bed and the nurses told me off roundly and tied my hands to the rails. The worst thing was then being fed with no idea what was coming. It all still gives me the shivers.

That same year my little sister had her tonsils out in the children's hospital and I spent my pocket money on a dolly for her. I located her by her crying but the nurse stopped me at the door and wouldn't let me in or take the dolly to her. I don't know how they can have been so heartless and I cried all the way home.