Greg James

Greg James

I am honoured to be asked to contribute to this collection as, quite simply, I wouldn’t exist without the NHS. My mum had a problematic pregnancy as antibodies had developed in her blood, making it totally incompatible with mine. At thirty-seven weeks, I was induced and was in a critical condition. We owe the NHS everything. We wouldn’t be a family without it. To all the staff who worked at Lewisham Hospital in 1985, thank you.

For obvious reasons, I was unaware of the full story, so I called my mum to ask her for a few details to write up for this book. What came back from her made me cry. Like, a real ‘close the laptop and call her back’ cry. I hadn’t quite realised what she went through, and it became clear that her first-hand account is what you should be reading. So, Mum, it’s over to you …

Dear NHS,

I have rhesus negative blood, something which I was unaware of until I was first pregnant in my early twenties. Subsequent pregnancies became increasingly problematic as antibodies had accumulated in my blood. These antibodies were effectively hindering the healthy development of my baby in the womb. This made being pregnant worrying, to say the least.

Early in the pregnancy, I had a period of enforced bed rest with my GP visiting me at home. As things progressed, I had to visit Lewisham Hospital twice a week for plasmapheresis treatment, which involved a needle in one arm to extract blood, which was spun to remove harmful antibodies and then returned via the other arm. It was painless and I got used to travelling between Bromley and Lewisham on the 208 bus. Though at the first treatment, my husband almost fainted at the sight of the needles. Your staff were always amazing and made it such a pleasant social occasion, with the customary tea and biscuits, of course.

In order to monitor the condition of the baby throughout the pregnancy, I had regular amniocentesis, which involved the insertion of a very long needle into my tummy to draw off fluid. I still have the puncture marks! Throughout this initial period, all the staff at Lewisham Hospital, including the gynaecologist, were fantastic, always very reassuring, competent and caring. I don’t recall ever feeling unduly anxious during what could have been an incredibly lonely and terrifying time. I couldn’t have felt more supported; they made me feel special and that gave me the strength to get through.

It was decided that Greg would be induced at thirty-seven weeks, which happened to be Greg’s sister’s birthday. She already hated the idea of a brilliant, sweet, handsome little brother (Greg told me to put that last bit in), so your good-humoured doctors agreed that we’d wait until the following week. The labour itself was stress-free, quite short and managed by an amazingly calm midwife, who presented me with my beautiful baby boy complete with a mop of thick, dark hair. There was even time for a quick cuddle before he was taken away to an incubator in the Special Care Baby Unit.

Owing to the increasing severity of Greg’s jaundice, he was given a complete blood transfusion, closely followed by two more. This was by far the most anxious time because Greg was now an actual little person. The months of tests and procedures had become part of a routine, but now we were involved emotionally with our new baby. I remember that each visit to the Special Care Baby Unit was incredibly traumatic as we were never sure how our baby’s health would be. However, as always, we were wonderfully supported by everyone who was looking after him. Miraculously, Greg’s condition began to stabilise, so it was decided to give him a final top-up transfusion.

A few days later it was Christmas Eve and I went up to the unit to feed Greg. It was magical and I’ll never forget it. What I saw typified the selfless, kind acts of humanity that makes the NHS so special. The dedicated team of special care nurses were quietly caring for the babies, fairy lights were twinkling and carols were playing softly in the background. Each baby had been given a small gift, left at the foot of its cot. It was a beautiful moment, so peaceful and uplifting and so emotionally charged.

I was joined by Greg’s dad, who had been sleeping in the car park most of the week, unable to go home until he knew our baby was going to be all right. Thanks to all the wonderful NHS staff he was, and on Christmas morning we were allowed to go home with our little Christmas angel. As a family we will always be very grateful for all the love and care you gave us during that period in our lives.

Thank you, NHS.

Rosemary (Greggy’s mummy) x

P.S. He hates me calling him Greggy in public.

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