I had my first appointment with Dick and Janna as a newborn with their baby girl, Ella, on Saturday morning, and as soon as I stepped through the door, I knew I was in for a treat.
It was the first time they had been to a hospital since they arrived at home from the GP surgery, and they were so excited about what awaited them.
Dick and his wife, Jane, were in Northamptons hospital for treatment for an infection in their lungs.
They were in their first year of life, but they were already well on the way to becoming doctors, teaching, and doctors in their own right.
They had three other children, two girls and a boy, as well as their two older sisters.
I asked Jane what her life would be like if they could go back to their old lives, and she smiled.
She said, “I’ll be in charge of my children, so they will get to have a real life.”
The sisters were on the same day as me, as Jane was also in hospital for an operation on her left lung.
We were taken to the nursery by two nurses and two medical students, and it was then that I began to feel the weight of what was happening to my daughter.
She was going to be a doctor in the future, but that was not the plan.
As a newborn, I was given a vaccination, which is the first thing doctors are asked to do.
When they go to work, they do a scan of the abdomen to see if there is a problem.
If there is, they have to be told, “We need to do something about it,” and they can ask for the baby to be put on the immunisation list.
If the child is under six weeks old, they are given a second jab.
At six weeks, the second jab is given to the baby, who then goes into the neonatal intensive care unit, and after another scan is done, he or she is placed in a ventilator.
There is an injection of a small amount of saline solution in the vein that runs down the inside of the thigh.
The ventilators in the neonas are a little bit different from those in hospitals.
In the neona, a nurse goes into a ventilated room to administer the saline solution to the ventilations, and then the ventilation is turned off.
That is where you inject the medication.
I had been given a first-aid kit and my mum and dad, who were in charge, helped me to put on my mask.
We had to walk a long way to the NICU.
They did the IVF and the transplant.
After that, the doctors told us that if we wanted to get into the ICU, we would need to go to the ward to get our first shot.
They were asking us how many shots we needed.
I explained that I wanted to go into intensive care and that I had a lot of people at home, but the doctors didn’t understand.
They wanted me to go in and get the shot.
So I asked if I could get the shots for myself.
I took one.
It came at a cost of £150.
The doctor said, ”No, I don’t need to pay, but if you do, come to the hospital on the day of your appointment”.
I arrived in the ICUs at 6:30pm, with my mother, sister, and my dad, and we were told that I would need two shots.
The next morning, I woke up at 6.30am, and got up to do the injection, but was told by the doctor that my son needed to go home to be tested.
I told him that if I got the shots, I could stay in the NICUs.
I went home the next day, but my dad was waiting for me at home.
I was told that he would have to come and get me.
I went home, and I got my shots.
I knew that I was not going to make it through the day, because I was exhausted.
My dad and I had already been there a couple of days.
I started feeling a bit tired, and started getting anxious.
The day after my injection, I had to go back into the NICUS to get my second shot.
It had already come out of the IVFs, and the IVT was now the only way to get the medicine.
I sat in the intensive care ward for almost two hours, but it wasn’t until a nurse came to the door that I realised that the nurses were taking care of me.
At 6:45pm, the nurse came and gave me the second injection.
It hit me in the chest and it felt as if the needle was going in through my lung.
I screamed and cried, but there was nothing I could do.
The nurse said, ‘Just