Chapter 6 #2
‘I have dreams about that day,’ Samantha said quietly, and Jo noticed that the hand wiping away the tears was trembling.
‘I dream that we pull up outside the surgery and Mick gets a phone call on his mobile, or I change my mind, or one of the boys is sick, something makes us drive away again and Ben is still fine.’ Her voice was a whisper now.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Jo said and really did mean it.
‘We went in,’ Samantha continued. ‘Mick stayed in the waiting room and I took them in one at a time so they wouldn’t be frightened, because injections always make children cry.
And they have to have two at a time – Quintet and then the Meningitis C, which makes it really hard, because after the first one they know what’s coming.
You feel bad enough, putting them through the pain, let alone—’ She broke off to dab at tears again.
‘I’ll have to go and get some tissues, I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d get so upset. ’
‘It’s OK, I’ve got plenty of time,’ Jo smiled, but once Samantha was out of the room, she grabbed for her phone and messaged the photographer to stay away for another forty minutes at least.
When Samantha returned, she looked composed.
She took up her seat on the sofa again and continued.
‘The injections had an immediate effect on the boys. They cried and cried. Looking back, I can’t believe I didn’t say, after Ellis had been done, “Wait a minute, this isn’t the way he should be reacting.
” He was inconsolable. Bright red, screaming.
But I just handed him to Mick and snatched Ben up before he got upset and headed back to the nurse.
‘Once they’d both been injected, we sat in the waiting room for twenty-five minutes trying to calm them down.
The other patients were joining in, trying to help us out.
We were cuddling the boys, rocking, bouncing, whatever we could.
The nurse came out to look at them, took their temperature and said they were fine, they’d just been upset by it all.
So, finally we decided to bundle them into the car.
‘They were still screaming by the time we got home and when they did finally quieten down, they fell asleep. We put them to bed and they slept for the whole afternoon. I remember joking about it at the time with Mick. It was so wonderful to have a full afternoon off. We were saying, “must take them for more injections”. Terrible to think of that now.’
‘So what happened after that?’ Jo asked gently.
‘I ended up waking them. But they were groggy, tired, just not themselves for the rest of the day. They didn’t eat much. Ben had a temperature and I gave him Calpol, because that’s what they tell you to do if they’re unwell after the injection.
‘They both slept through that night and the next morning Ellis seemed better, but Ben was groggy, drowsy, just not himself,’ she said.
‘I had the vague feeling for several days that he wasn’t right.
But I didn’t contact anyone about it, I didn’t phone the doctor, the health visitor or anyone, because I thought I was being over-anxious.
I told myself maybe they were coming down with a virus. ’
Samantha cleared her throat, then said, as matter-of-factly as she could: ‘It was twelve days after the injection that Ben had his stroke. Paediatric stroke they call it in children. All the symptoms you’re told to look out for in older people, happened to him.
He couldn’t move his left arm. The left side of his face dropped.
At first, I thought I was imagining things.
I was here in the house with them both, on my own.
Then I got really frightened and phoned 999.
Once I explained what was happening, they sent round an ambulance for us very quickly. ’
Jo sympathised: ‘How frightening for you.’
‘Oh God,’ Samantha’s fingers went up to squeeze at her eyes again, ‘it was terrifying.’ She went on to detail the treatment Ben was given and then outlined where he was now.
‘Well, you’ll see when you meet him. His face is still droopy on that side, he can only half open his eye.
A little bit of movement is coming back to his left arm and left leg, but we’re looking at months and months of rehab, physio, speech therapy to get everything working again and have him developing as he should.
The outlook is quite positive—’ Samantha broke off, ‘I have to stay positive,’ she added, her voice wobbling again, ‘But I wish it had never happened.’
She spoke of doctors who asked if Ben had been ill or had been vaccinated recently, who asked about family history of strokes and blood clotting illnesses.
‘My Mum died of a stroke in her sixties and I think she did have trouble with clots. I remember her being on blood thinners, but I don’t know much about it,’ Samantha said.
Now Jo was listening extra carefully. Jayne had mentioned that children with a family history of this kind of illness had to be screened out from having Quintet.
The government knew this but hadn’t done anything about it.
If anyone had asked Samantha, she could have told them about her mother.
Samantha blew her nose and added firmly, ‘I’m talking to you because I want to find out if that injection was to blame. Because if it was, they need to help Ben get better. And they need to make sure no other child is harmed like this.’
‘Of course, I understand… have you spoken to a lawyer? Do you think you would consider going to court?’ Jo asked.
Samantha looked anxious, ‘Lawyers… courts… it all costs a lot of money. No, we’ve not gone down that route. But we’re talking to you and we’re talking to Ben’s doctors. We’re hoping we can work out what’s the best next step.’
‘The IVF was expensive,’ she added. ‘Having twins is expensive. Can we risk a court case? I don’t think so. Someone somewhere should be held to account for this. But I don’t think we’re going to be the ones to do it.’
‘How does Mick feel about it?’ Jo asked.
There was the sound of voices at the back door and Samantha stood up, telling Jo she could speak to him herself.
Mick was maybe going to be a little pricklier to interview, Jo reckoned. She watched him sit down and cross his arms as she switched on ‘record’ and selected a fresh notebook page.
He talked about his children, about the day of the injection and the problems Ben had had ever since.
‘To my mind, there’s no doubt the injection caused the stroke,’ he said.
‘The manufacturers know perfectly well that some children can be damaged. The government has a fund set aside for vaccine-damaged kids. But I’ve no idea how you’re supposed to get any compensation when not a single doctor wants to help you or will even admit that there is a connection.
‘No doctor at that hospital wants to put themselves on the line for us. Testify in court? Challenge the official line? I don’t think so.
Far easier if they write it off as “one of those things”, “hereditary”, whatever.
They’ve no proof it was the vaccine, but they’ve no proof of any other explanation either, as far as I can see.
It’s very unusual for a toddler to have a stroke. ’
Jo nodded and took notes at speed.
She was hoping this was going to be a clear cut story for once.
The vaccine company and the government knew children with a family history of a clotting disorder shouldn’t have the injection, but they hadn’t done anything about making the public aware – and now here was the consequence.
Enormous distress and damage to one family and their child.
She could hear Samantha talking to the boys as she made lunch for them in the kitchen while Mick gave her his side of the story.
Finally, after what felt like a slightly awkward break in the conversation, he leaned over and said in a low voice: ‘Jayne didn’t say anything about how much you’d be paying us for this article.’
This was the tricky moment. Of course newspapers paid for stories.
But not for all stories. And they only paid big when they had to.
Jo knew any payment for this story would come straight out of her own small departmental budget.
The one which had to cover freelance photographers, news agency stories, the occasional expensive scoop, expenses and so on.
‘I wasn’t expecting to pay anything for this interview, to be honest, Mick,’ Jo said as nicely as she could.
‘I thought you wanted to speak to us to highlight your situation, see if we can get some action on your sons’ behalf.
’ Then the killer line: ‘Would you like us to make a donation to Jayne’s support group on your behalf? ’
‘Well, I was thinking of money that would go towards Ben’s care more directly.’
Understandable that he wanted money for the family…
of course. And her paper had a reputation for paying big for good stories, but those stories usually involved celebrity scandals…
health stories, even important ones, didn’t usually attract payments.
But this was important and maybe she could do something.
‘Will you leave it with me? I’ll phone you back and we can talk about that,’ Jo said.
‘We’re hoping to go really big on the whole vaccination issue this week,’ she went on, ‘I’m sure you know about the whooping cough outbreak.
Parents are really worried about all the issues surrounding the new injection. ’
‘It’s just,’ he countered, ‘we’ve never gone to the papers before.
One twin being damaged by a new vaccination, I thought that would be a big story for you.
I thought that would be worth something.
I’m not sure if I want to go through all this hassle and publicity without getting something for the boys out of it. ’
It crossed Jo’s mind that maybe he’d been talking to another newspaper or had sounded out someone who claimed to know the papers.
Jo tried to put herself in his shoes, if her child was looking at lots of physio, rehab and there was doubt about whether he would be fully OK again, wouldn’t she want as much money for a fighting fund as she could possibly get?
‘I’m sure we’ll be able to do something for you all. Will you leave it with me for a day or so?’ she asked him again. ‘I’d love to meet your boys properly,’ Jo said, wanting to move on quickly. As she stood up, she was relieved to see the photographer’s car pulling up outside the house.