I was just over a divorce from my violent abusive husband, and I had a son of six and a daughter of seven. I was only about trenty five.
My daughter complained of tummy pain and the doctor arranged for her to have her tonsils out because there may be infection going into her stomach to cause the pain. She had her tonsils removed but this did not cure the tummy pains, then the doctor decided that she possibly had an inflamed appendix, and we rushed her to hospital, where her appendix was removed to find that it was only slightly inflamed and didn't need removing at all. The tummy pains continued and we returned to the hospital for her post-op examination. We had noticed that her tummy was quite enlarged and mentioned it to the doctor at the hospital, who examined her and immediately arranged a test as he suspected a tumor - my Mum and I were absolutely shocked. I was only young and I didn't realize at that time what a tumor was - I soon found out because it was the size of a small football and growing by the day.

I was told that she would only live for a few months looking at the size of it and how it was attached to other organs in her body. They operated immediately and found it was too big to remove and gave her treatment to shrink it, which she hated very much.
After three operations and numerous doses or radio-therapy, she came home for Christmas and New Year then I took her back to her ward after the celebrations,
She had her last operation on the 14th January 1975, to remove the tumor, they found it to have shrunk enough to remove but she hemorrhaged and I was told that if she had gained consciousness she would have been severely brain damaged and wouldn't know any of us, I said my prayers that night for her to be taken because she had a wonderful personality - that would have been all gone.
she would have been forty this year (2007), I never stop wondering what she would have been like.

She died six days after her eighth birthday. Thirty Two years on - this grief has caught up with me and now I am fifty eight I still feel that there is a big space where she should be. I did not grieve at the time as I concentrated on my Son and work. Now I am suffering greatly. I remember those days as if they were yesterday.
I am now trying to get back on track, with the help of my second Husband who was very supportive at the time, and he remembers it just the same as me, I asked my Son, who is now thirty nine if he remembered her and he said he did but he didn't know why she was taken away from us. He now knows and I felt a bit better once I had told him the details.

It had a very traumatic impact on his behavior while he was growing up but has turned out to be a good Son and Step Son and a good Father to three children.

Learn more about this author, Petula Tadman.
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