Real Stories

Penny's Story
Juliet's Story
Adam and Karen's Story
Ryan and Ciara’s Story


Penny's Story back to top

In March 2008, little Melody Dwyer complained of a fever. Her mum, Penny, had a tummy bug at the time, so her parents put their daughter's sickness down to the same thing.

But when Penny and husband, Ger, woke the next morning, Melody was still ill so they took her to the doctor as soon as his surgery opened. Four hours later; she died of meningitis.

Penny says
“Last March, we went away for the weekend to Youghal and stayed in a house right beside the beach that had a pool in the garden. My husband and I sat on a sand dune, watching the girls collecting shells. The sun was shining and I turned to him and said: "I absolutely love this, being able to spend time together, all four of us as a family".He turned and smiled and his face said it all, we were so happy and content. Mel (Melody) also learned to swim on her own that weekend, she was so proud ofherself.

The Monday was a Bank Holiday and I wasn't feeling great. I had a sick tummy, but as mums do, I just got on with it. We got home to Kilkenny that evening with enough time for the girls to go out to play.  

That night Mel came into our room at about midnight and told me she wasn't feeling well and got sick. I cleaned her up and thought she had gotten the tummy bug that I had, so I gave her some Calpol and put her back to bed. At around six a.m. she came into my room and got sick again, so I cleaned her up once more and, as she bad a bit of a temperature, I gave her some children's Nurofen and put her into the bed with us. We all fell back asleep.  

Courtney and her dad got up at 7.30 am for work and school, and I joked with Courtney that Mel and I had to stay in bed because she was sick. 

At around nine that morning, Mel got up to go to the toilet and there was no sign of her coming back after 20 minutes, so I went to see what she was doing. She had made a mess in the bathroom and was upset cause she wasn’t able to clean it up.  I reassured her that it was ok and brought her in to wash her that was when I saw the first mark on her back, I did the pressure test and the mark didn’t fade so I looked around her body and found one other mark on her neck.  I knew immediately that she was in trouble so I rang the doctors and told them that I was bringing my daughter in, she had a rash and I didn’t know how contagious it was going to be and I needed to see a doctor when I got there. 

I dressed Mel and myself, got in my car and started to drive to the doctors, on the way Mel started retching so I pulled in the car, got out and held her while she got sick, I put her back in the car I didn’t even strap her in and drove to the doctors where she was seen straight away, the doctor that saw her drove us out to the hospital and had reception ring ahead to let them know we were coming. 

We were in the hospital and Mel was up on a drip by about nine fifty that morning, half an hour from finding the first signs of a rash, her whole body was covered at this stage.  I couldn’t even remember my husband’s phone number when asked for it; at this stage I still thought she would be ok.

Everything that happened from then on seemed to happen so fast, someone from the health board was contacted, we were moved to an isolation ward, and I rang work to say I wouldn’t be in for the next few weeks because my little girl had meningitis.  Oh my god, to admit what I already knew out loud was devastating; I rang my family who told me not to be upset it would be ok. 

But it wasn’t ok because three hours later when the doctors weren’t happy because the rash wasn’t receding quickly enough they were moving her to intensive care where they were going to knock her out before they moved her to Crumlin, her heart stopped.  We were brought to the family room to wait but I knew as soon as I saw the doctor shake her shoulders and call her name that she was gone, I didn’t cry, I didn’t get upset I just went numb.  My husband was devastated, he prayed and prayed but our prayers weren’t answered.   

Melody died at roughly around one o clock that day 4/3/08 she was just two weeks past her fourth birthday. 

The reason I wanted to share our story is because I want everyone to be aware of meningitis; aware of how quickly it can devastate a family’s life.  Although Melody didn’t show most of the classic symptoms I want people to be aware of what symptoms to look for, to keep a symptoms card, which can be gotten free of charge from the Meningitis Trust, in their wallet or to take one from any information stands that they may come across. 

I also want people to be aware that meningitis doesn’t just affect children; it can affect any person, any age at any time.  Since Melody’s death I have found that while people know about meningitis, they think “ah it’s ok, my child or myself are over the danger age”, no they are not please, please be aware it CAN happen to you. 

If through reading this piece I have raised one person’s awareness enough to save a life well then it will be worth it.” 

Juliet's story back to top
 
Baby Óisín, from Clane, died in September 2002 aged 9 months.

The evening before his mum, Juliet Magnier, had brought him to the local hospital as he had refused his 9pm feed and had a temperature of 104°C. The hospital checked his ears and throat and told her to bring him home and go to her GP in the morning if she was not happy with his condition. Óisin didn’t mind the doctor examining him, even played with him a bit and actually took a bottle at 2 or 3 am when they got home. At 7am that morning Juliet noticed a small rash on his forehead and on his chest, so she rushed him to Crumlin Hospital. 5 hours later Óisin died.

"The doctor in Crumlin Children's Hospital told us to prepare for the worst. At the time, the reality of the situation didn't register with us. We thought there was still hope. And that's what I hung on to. An hour later all hope went out the window. Everyone around was crying but I was numb and in shock, one part of me wanting to mentally fall to my knees and scream, sob and shout that this can't be happening to us. The other part in complete disbelief that this was happening. The reality started to hit home when we had to take Oisín off the Life support system. Peter went down to the hospital shop to buy a little teddy to put long side Oisín and then we had to go and organise a funeral.

The shock...

Those initial hours I just remembering silently crying but screaming inside that this can't be happening, shouting internally to myself - "wake up stop the nightmare, wake up" but I wasn't asleep and having a nightmare I was at the start of a nightmare that I would never wake up from.

My baby boy was gone...

Sunday morning Sept 8th 2002 I was the mother of two beautiful boys, Monday morning Sept 9th I was burying my baby. My identity had gone overnight, I no longer had two beautiful boys. I remember people telling me I had a beautiful angel now in heaven, I wanted to shout at them, "I don't want an angel". I wanted Oisín with me now, I wanted him here, I wanted to see what he's like, I wanted to hold him and touch him and smell him and I just want him here with me in my arms.

Holding Oisín one last time...

I'll never forget holding him for that one last time, I remember thinking to myself this is not my baby, this is not Oisín. Where is my baby, this is not him. We put some of his favourite toys in the coffin with him, as we couldn't bear the thought of him being alone. We kissed him one last time and closed the coffin. Even at that point I felt like I was living in two different realms. There was one part of my brain that was still in disbelief that none of this was happening

The Funeral...

We decided to bury Oisín in Derry where Peter comes from as his father (Oisín's granddad) had picked a beautiful plot for him. Strange as it seems, I thought everyday there would be someone that would stop by his grave and say hello. On the day of his funeral we had mass in Clane and then left for the drive to Derry. We didn't want a hearse so we laid Oisín on the back seat of the car in his tiny white coffin. As we were getting closer to Derry I remember thinking to myself, "I can just hop in the back seat and open the coffin to hold Oisín one last time". I know Peter couldn't stop me because he was driving. Then I thought, "God no Juliet, if anyone ever heard you did that they'd think you were mad". But I just wanted to hold him, I just wanted to kiss him one last time and it was slowly sinking in I was never going to get the chance to do that. I was starting to acknowledge that I would never feel his arms round my neck or him pulling my hair and pulling at my earrings. The funeral was a blur. I remember thinking I'll never see you again. And thinking I just want to die now too.

The aftermath...

Six or seven weeks later the anger finally exploded. I was in the kitchen and I must have smashed everything I could get my hands on. I was shouting at God, "Why, my Oisín, why did you have to take him?". Then I remember being on my hands and knees and I'm begging him to give me back my baby, give me back my Oisín. I didn't care if he'd lost fingers and toes, I didn't care if he was deaf or brain damaged. I just wanted him back. That was the start of my grieving process, but I wouldn't talk to anyone about it, I didn't know how to put how I felt into words. If anyone is reading this I would recommend you seek counselling, I never did and until I learned to accept what had happened I experienced some very dark days.

I remember for years I was eaten up by feelings of guilt and uselessness, "Why did I allow this to happen?". For so many years I blamed myself. I thought I had killed him because I didn't do enough to save him. I now know and accept that at the time I did what I could. But I don't think the guilt will ever leave me. For about a year after Oisín was buried, if I could have stood over his grave 24 hrs a day, 7 days a week I would have done so.

Since Óisin died Juliet has worked with the Meningitis Trust in distributing information to houses, schools and pharmacies in her area. She and Oisin's father Peter have also had two fundraising events in memory of Óisin.

It was while Adam was in Our Lady’s that we found a booklet produced by the Meningitis Trust.  Having read this literature I was spurred on to contact them and to tell them our story.  I also wanted to talk to someone who knew what we were all going through.

Pneumococcal Vaccine Postcard campaign
When I contacted the Meningitis Trust I was told that there was actually a vaccine for this type of meningitis and that they were planning a postcard campaign to urge the Minister for Health, Mary Harney, to introduce this vaccine onto the routine childhood vaccination. This was when I became interested in helping and decided to get as many postcards as I could, signed and to contact all my public representatives regarding this issue.

My intention was to make people aware.  Like many we thought we knew the symptoms of this devastating disease, however Adam never got a rash.  People still think that the calling card of meningitis is the rash.  It’s not.  My advice to parents is not to wait for a rash and to trust their own instincts and act fast.

Adam is now 3 years of age and running rings around us, as most children his age tend to do to their parents! It has been a long and often tough journey to get us here, with regular check ups and constant trips to the doctor. These are synonymous with all young children, but I do believe that Adam’s immune system was compromised as a result of having contracted meningitis. As a direct result of the trauma his body underwent during his illness, he developed psoriasis. It has been hard not to blame every ailment on him having had the disease as he may have been prone to tonsillitis, chest infections and sinusitis anyway, like so many youngsters. Thankfully, Adam is a healthy and very active young boy who wants to play football when he is bigger!

Due to the initial support we received from the Meningitis Trust we keep in regular contact with them. I have at times referred to us as a good news story and now we as a family wish to support the Meningitis Trust in their work in the hope that with them we can spread further awareness of meningitis and help prevent other families from going through what our family and others have gone through and worse.  
 

Karen Jordan.

Ryan and Ciara’s Story back to top 

My son Ryan contracted  in June of last year (2009)– he was six months old.

The family was on holiday in Doonbeg, Co. Clare and it was the first day we arrived, Ryan was in great form, it was a very sunny day and he had a great day out in the garden. I put Ryan to bed as normal, but about an hour later he woke up crying a lot and had a high temperature so we did the usual and gave him nurofen to bring temp down. He went back to bed on and off but was crying a lot and although his temperature never got too high again, it never went fully back to normal.

Journey to Limerick Hospital

I rang the Care Doc at around 11pm and they said it could be an ear infection, I decided to sleep in his room with him, at this stage he had stopped crying and was sleepy. During the night he slept for a couple of hours and then woke and just wasn’t settling though he was taking his bottle. Then he started to vomit and I just new I needed him to see a doctor. So I rang the Care Doc back again and they arranged for me to see the doctor in Milltown Malby. While driving there Ryan seemed to me to be getting worse. His colouring was off, kind of yellow, and he was vomiting more. The doctor said it could be appendicitis and I was to take him straight to Limerick Hospital. That was the longest and worse journey ever, as I had no idea where the hospital was. Anyway, I got there and went to reception and they took all details and told me to sit down.

I was looking at Ryan and thinking he was very unwell and could not believe that they had me waiting, so I rang my mum and she said just to go up to reception and demand him to be seen straight away. So that is what I did and I was let into the emergency area. Once in there, no nurses were around, so I just screamed out and someone came out to me. They took Ryan from me and the doctor looked at him and took all his clothes off. There was one spot, like a freckle on his chest, and the doctor asked if this was normally there. I said no and she said that they were going to treat him for meningitis.

Transfer to Temple Street 

In the meantime, my husband Conor and other son Oscar (2yrs) where stranded in Doonbeg, as I had the car. So my father-in-law drove from Dublin to Clare to get Conor and Oscar to hospital. The doctors decided that it would be better for Ryan if he was transferred to Dublin for intensive care treatment, but thankfully Conor and Oscar arrived just in time to see him before he went in the ambulance. I followed on in a taxi. When we arrived in Temple Street he was taken straight to intensive care. After the doctor had seen him, he told me that the next 24hrs were crucial and we would know by then if the treatment was successful. It was so stressful, as my husband and other son were in Clare and us in Dublin.

Conor arrived to the hospital the following morning and doctors just kept telling us that all was going to plan but would never say if he was getting better. However, I felt myself at this stage that he would make it.

Recovery

Thankfully Ryan pulled through with no side effects having spent only 1 week in the hospital. I still to this day can’t believe it happened, as everything happened so quick and he was back to normal so quickly.

Ciara Dowling