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- 08 May 2005
I went into hospital for a tonsillectomy, when I was about three. I can vaguely remember sitting in a cot in a grey ward. In 1941, I imagine there was little money to spare, in a privately funded service, and there would be a shortage of staff and shortage of time
In those days, it was assumed that small children do not remember pain. Children's hospitals, although separate, were organised on adult lines. Children who were upset were told to be "big boys" or "big girls" respectively. Visiting hours were short, often only an hour a day.
Most vividly, I can remember being dressed up in the operating gown, with the hat and being interested in the great light over the operating table. I can remember the fear taking over when they placed the flannel over my face and began pouring on the anesthetic. I can remember yelling at the top of my voice.
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