Hi nice to meet you , I’m Gaye a social worker for the childrens social services team. Did you think by changing your name and moving that we wouldn’t find you? I reply” what are you talking about” i bought this house 14 years ago ?”

So you’ve never lived in Wick then?

No , I reply

Oh , maybe I’ve got my facts wrong. But why did you change your name ?

I changed my name when I was 18 as my birth name sounded foreign and I was working as a comunity care nurse. Why? – I ask her.

The conversation went on to then asks me about a so called drug problem and my other young children and where there were. I reply , I have L , she’s 4. My son is 16 and lives with his dad. I have no other children?? Or any bloody history of drugs.

I gave her some paperwork as evidence. She said ” you can trust me, I won’t loose them. I promise I will just show them to my manager, make a copy of them and drop them back to you tomorrow.”

They were the only copies I had . I never got them back.

I was hounded and targeted by them as there believed I was this person they believed I was , the druggie who changed her name and moved to get away from them. I will never forget the social worker saying to me ” I new we would find you in the end” . I’ve never had any previous experience with dealing with childrens social services other than in a professional capacity.

I made the mistake of trusting them.

They promised to help me as I was so ill and needed help on the days I couldn’t walk , to get my daughter to school.

I organized for one of the other mother’s I new from my daughter’s play school, who’s daughter was my daughter’s best friend , to take my daughter to school and pick her up and I just had to drive to her house.

She used to be a childminder. This was all agreed with the social worker who also told us both that child Services would pay for this. 2 months into it, the childminder was getting pissed off as she turned down a job at the girls school to help me out. And social services had not paid her so she said well if I’m not getting paid I’m not doing it. I offered to pay her , but she was so upset that she just said no.

The social worker had another plan. Her plan was to move my daughter from her new school from all her friends she went to playschool with and her best friends, to a school down the road from our home.

As I was told it would be easier for me as I could walk my daughter to school then.

I was given no other option as to agree.

A week before my daughter changed schools , the social worker took my daughter to school with me one morning so she could see how far I had to walk from street parking to classroom. We had a meeting with my daughter’s school. The social worker wanted to have a private chat with my daughter’s teacher while I chatted with the head mistresses.

The social worker left me at the school. I only had my house keys with me. No phone, no money and no way of getting home. As it was a 45 min walk. I struggled to walk for 30 seconds. As due to being so aneamic from having fibroids, I developed a blood clot in my calf . Both my feet, ankles and legs to my knees were like elephant feet. .

I was absolutely beside myself with grief as how was I to get home , I was starting to bleed thought my monsters pads I was wearing. I had been gushing for 23 days straight. I could only wear my slipper boots that were my old UGG boots. And they were hurting me. The school were not helpful but they did call the SW and she said she had to rush off to another appointment. I was to find my own way home. I had 45p in the bank and no cash.

It took me 4 hours to walk home. I was absolutely sodden in blood. I had a navy tracksuit top on that I managed to wrap round my waist but if you looked close enough you could see the blood on it as well. I have never been in so much pain in my life. My chest pain was unbearable as I couldn’t breathe enough air. It was worse that a astma attack . I was crying my eyes out like a baby when I finally got home. Just has time to shower and get clean clothes on and clear up the mess just in time to then drive my car to pick my daughter up from school . With big smiles and lots of everything is ok fakeness as my daughter was 5 she didn’t need to no my shit. We go feed the ducks as it was a Monday. I push myself to just get on with it. We looked at the homework and did spellings reading at the kitchen table while dinner cooks. We chat about her day and do some colouring in , We eat , watch the Simpsons , I run her a bath , wash her hair, sit her on her bed, dry and brush her hair as she reads to me and eats her cut up apple, Night time platts done, moisturiser and PJ’s on. We brush our teeth , I tuck her into her cost bed, sit next to her with my arm around her and read to her until she falls asleep in my arms.

Then I go downstairs. Fill up the dish washer, hang the washing out, wash the floors and wipe the sides down in the kitchen.

Make a pint of ice and water. And go to bed. Its 8pm.

Every evening was the same , except for the after school activities. It would be park then Sainsbury’s shipping on a Tuesday. Sea front walk looking for shells on a Wednesday. Thursday is kite flying, football or bike ride or something similar Friday is a free for what she wants to do normal play the Wii or games on my iPad.. As we have fish and chips in front of the TV watching the Simpsons on a Friday. I’m always in bed by 8. Fast asleep by 8:30pm.

My car boot had everything in it. Wellington boots , socks , towels , sun cream , bottles of water , wet wipes , change of clothes for every occasion, balls kites, bubbles, pens and paper , books , hats, coats , gloves, even a tent.

I can’t write any more tonight as I’m sat here in floods of tears as i miss my daughter so much. I did nothing wrong except be ill. And how was that my fault.

Yet they took her anyway. Risk of becoming a young carer they said.

I am what they call a ” jobs worth” . I would say I’m slightly Asperger’s. I do what’s right and tell the truth, even if you don’t like it.

I have been successful in all my many jobs. I’m a quick learner and once I’ve learnt it all and got to the top , I then loose interest and move onto another job or study or business venture.

My mum’s a solicitor , from a young age I was drawn into helping her study and at times we swapped homework. I pick up information and store it in my memory I call my sponge of random information. SORI.

I did have some friends but I never really socialised outside of school or at school. I never new what class I was ment to be going to or even where it was unless my friends told me first and took me. I was a zombie. I just said I smoked weed . But I didn’t . How else can I explain how I was the way I was??

I think my mum asked and expect too much from me. My little brother was born when I was 12. I was expected to look after him, my mum would leave at 5am some days to go to Leicester university for her law degree and on a working day she would leave at 8am , on those days she would take my brother to nursery. But it was up to me on the days she was going to Leicester . It was also up to me to collect him on my way back from school. I had to make dinner and bath and get him ready for bed by the time she got back from work around 6:30pm. Most days he was in bed asleep by the time she got back and she always found something to pick on me about. Hence the sleeping in the back of my dad’s van. My dad had his own business and my mum expected alot from him as well. She wasn’t happy with him just working during the day, she organised for him to do a sleep over duties at the local mental health support home. My other brother T . Was put into a private boys boarding school at age 7. When my little brother was old enough at 4. She put him into boarding school with my other brother, I was kicked out during my GCSE’s as I moaned about having to miss an exam as she needed me to look after them. She rented my room out so I couldn’t return.

I was 15. A week away from being 16.

Anyway. I went any lived with my nan 15 miles away. She’s great , I love her so much. I missed her since my mum stopped talking to her when I was 9. I hadn’t seen her since then , but she took me in after I had stayed at friends and put myself into care as I got really ill with kidney infections so i then asked her if I could go live with her.

She dropped everything and took me in.

I got a job at a Retreat run by nuns for the posh and famous people where they went to basically die. I started my nursing then. 12 hour shifts 3 on 1 off. I think I was getting £2:80 an hour. But I loved the job. The nuns let me sleep for 3 hours in the afternoon ” study time” they called it 😂 I was good at my job as I was a quick learner and always passed my supervision with flying colours.

But I was getting fed up with living with my aunt and uncle who are a few years younger than me and they stressed my nan out so much, they were always arguing with each other and fighting. I shared a room with T my aunt. She didn’t give a shit about my stuff or that I had work the next day and would wake me up all the time to moan about how her brother S had pissed her off that day.

My nan had a male friend and my aunt went and stayed with him. She was 15. I found out that she was sleeping in his bed. He said ” she keeps her tights on” like that’s okay then. He had 2 other empty bedrooms and I didn’t understand. But I did. Something was wrong. It didn’t feel right. But he was like really old. And like a father figure to her. But still , it easy right.

It made me feel so uneasy that I blamed myself for T moving out and I thought if I moved out things would change. So I moved in with him, into one of his other bedrooms.

I came back from work one day and he was in the bath. T was in the bathroom as well.

I had saved money up and left. I went back to my home town near my parents and managed to get a one bedroom flat with the help of social services. I was 17.

I had no furniture. I was given a sofa bed and a calor gas fire to keep warm. My nan was heart broken with me leaving. But how could I tell her the truth?

I got a nursing job with the community nursing team , as I was trained in wee bags and bandages and drug administration.

The district nurse would meet me at the GP surgery and we would go out and visit patients in their homes. I was given on the job training. It wasn’t long until I was lead nurse and I was doing the training. I was only 18. They sent me off for a number of training days on how to take blood and emergency medical procedures. That one I did enjoy. But I remember I fell asleep on the train and ended up in Eastbourne. I slept on a bench that night as it was the end of the line and I was miles away from home. The next train was at 6:10am to Littlehampton. Good job it was Saturday and I didn’t have work.

My hours were cut as I kept calling in sick. I was tired all the time , plus the new blue coat ( district nurse) didn’t like me. She was a right bitch.

Years later after T tried to kill herself, it came out that he had been abusing her.

So I thought fuck it. I will make my hours up working another job.

I didn’t no that I wasnt allowed to work two jobs and I was given the option to leave with a good reference.

So I did. I was pissed off working. So I went on the dole. Least my rent would be paid and my council tax. I was actually better off and didn’t have to spend nights in with candle light as I couldn’t afford the electric that was paid by a key meter.

One night , a guy smashed in my door and while I was asleep, tried to rape me.

I got away and ran into a friend of mine who went back into my flat and beat the shit out of him , as he was still there looking for money or items to sell , I guess for drugs.

My friend, who was a member of a family that lived 3 doors away from my family home when I was growing up, took me back to his parents house and I was then taken in by them and I was given my own fully furnished bedroom with sea views and hot water and cooked meals. They got my stuff from my flat. I never went back there again.

The family were mad. I was living in a massive house with the most lovely married couple and her elderly mum, and their 3 sons. Aged (22,23 and 28.) One of their friends and a rather hectic nutty lodger in the basement flat. The house was always busy with lots of people. They claimed housing benefit for my room so there was no stress about having to pay bills or rent. I got. £37:50 a week to myself. These were the days of £1 a pint and buy one get one free Friday nights.

Not that I ever had to pay for a drink as when the boys took me out with them, that’s after they dragged me around the shops for new “garms” – they were South Londoners and after they spent stupid amounts of money of designer clothing, they wanted to check out fit girls in underwear shops or departments , and that’s why they took me with them. Not only did I have to go into the changing rooms with them to tell them if they looked stupid or not in the clothes they were buying, but I was then used to get them hooked up with girls. They would say I was their little sister and they were taking me out to buy me some new clothes, they would stop a good looking girl in a shop , hold up a dress and ask her if they thought I would look good in it. Then the banter would happen. They had all the charm. Well I did teach them. And they were all very very good looking, well built as they worked for their dads building company and very well dressed. I got new outfits out of it so I was happy.

I remember once. G the middle son, got a very attractive girl , she must of been 21 to try on a dress that he wanted to buy for me and model it for him in the shop.

Obviously, she came back with us as she was hooked.

I say us, I mean him. But us as in on the train via the pub.

She lasted the night and went the next day and never came back. That was his was. He liked the pull and to get what was impossible , possible and when he did he lost interest.

When we all went out, we went out. I was normally the only girl, but sometimes L they youngest son would bring his “girlfriend” Gem. She was a posh skinny attractive girl, who was at university. L wanted her after G had her. She was a well known in the town and had been previously in a relationship with one of the well known hard nuts.

Its was all just a game to these guys for top of the chain bullshit. It was like living with the Krays. All about the reputation and what people thought about them. The parents were no better.

Some girl turned up looking for G one afternoon and ‘ mother’ answered the door with me close behind. This girl was not happy. She started when mother told her that G was not in and to basically Fuck Off.

She kicked off. I’m told by mother to slap her down and not to take shit. So I did.

That was just an example of what was expected of me from them.

Don’t get me wrong. I was very attractive, slim size 6 . But when I kicked off, I sent everyone running. Including the sons.

G came in my room and woke me up once. He was messing about after having a shower and showing me his “windmill”. Then tried it on. I went mad after he tried to pin me down , I wrapped my legs round him and squeezed, I broke 3 of his ribs.

12 years of professional ballet gives you great leg strength. 😂

He never pissed me off again. Yeah I shagged him previously. It was just sex. He was very very good looking and yeah I did love him. But it was on my terms not his. And he needed to no his place.

We would get such attention when we went out all together. Free drinks , free to do what we wanted basically. No one would dare to start. Or even talk to me.

I don’t no if you’ve ever seen, How I met your mother, but there is this line where Barney would say to a girl.. have you met Ted? And hook him up with a girl in a bar .

That’s what I would go. But it was Great would pick the girl , I would go up to her and say , hey, have you met G…

It always worked. I was never jealous. What we had was not like that. Yes he would tell me he loved me and buy me things and take me out. Ohhhh but I wasn’t allowed near other men. His mates tried it on all the time and he was okay with them doing it. I wasn’t tho. Told them to fuck right off. I think G found it funny.

He used to have bad nightmares and I would find him on the floor next to my bed, wrapped in is duvet asleep.

I would make him a cup of tea and give him a hug in bed to warm him up and we would discuss what we were going to do that day. He would just sit there brushing my hair. He loved washing it as well. And doing my makeup. He liked me choosing his clothes for the day and he would constantly ask me if I thought he was good looking and fit. I would always be honest. I said his chest hair was too long so he got the clippers out and shaved all his body hair.. all his body hair in his bedroom then asked me if it looked better.

I met a guy that I really liked. It didn’t go down well so I decided to move out.

I got a flat near by, I went back to nursing. Paid my bills and then I found out I was pregnant. I told my boyfriend, who dumped me for another woman and he wasn’t interested. I lost the baby at 18 weeks. It was horrible. I was on my own. Alone. No family and I had fucked off my adopted family for a guy who them finished with me. I had never felt so alone iny life. I was too proud to go back to them as I cut all ties with them for him.

Then I met D. He had a nice car. And was well known. In a different circle of friends.

” Don’t you feel happier now that you get to see L every month? Must be better than seeing her every two months”

L is my daughter. She is now 8.

In 2014 I became very ill with fibroids. If your a woman your no what they are, if your a man, then it’s a growth in the woman bits that grows and causes heavy periods. I’m my case not only did I have a heavy period that lasted for 18 days but I would hemorrhage blood and pass satsuma sized clots at any time.

I was very aneamic. I was itchy my skin felt like I had bugs crawling all over it. My hair was falling out , I craved ice?? Yes frozen water not drugs. I would carry around a cup of ice with me everywhere. Not that I could go out much as I became incontinent. When I needed a wee I had to go. There was no in-between.

I had massive granny piss pads given to me from a friend of mine. She was given them after an operation she had and no longer needed them. They were like an adult nappy. Not nice to wear. Skinny jeans were out of the question to wear.

Not that I could , as since this tumor was growing, it was like I was pregnant.

I looked it. And felt like it.

Since my GP surgery closed down , I got lost in the “system” and I was left for too long without being seen by the hospital.

Only when I asked for a blood test as I kept telling the GP that I was loosing lots of blood , and telling her that I can’t take iron supplements as they have an adverse reaction to my tummy. Yes they made me shit myself. But no matter how many times I told my GP , she still continued to give them to me. She informed me that she had referred me to the hospital, and I just had to wait as I’m not an urgent case and they were very busy.

Every 2-3 weeks I would ask her to chase them up to see me as I was feeling very ill.

Sorry I side tacked, blood test , it came back the same day blood was taken as I needed an urgent blood transfusion. To the shock of my GP surgery. It was Hb 5 .

I did keep telling my GP that I felt really ill.I struggled to breathe and had chest pains. I passed out many times, luckily only when my daughter was at school.

I had my daughter then.

I had my daughter when I was 31. I had always worked, fitted it around my disability of CFS/ME and fibromyalgia. It never stopped me from living a normal life as I managed my symptoms well and had afternoon naps.

So split shifts district nursing was ideal.

I did well but I got board and took up different courses and other jobs to keep my brain active.

I first mortgage I had was when I was 19. It was a 3 bed house with large garage and husband and son included.

The relationship broke down 7 years later , I left him with the house , I went and bought another one in a village near him.

Obviously we had shared responsibility of our son. B.

Anyway back to blood test results. The hospital called me and told me they were sending an ambulance to come and pick me up. It was 2 pm . I had a blood test that morning at 10 am.

2pm! I had to collect my daughter at 3:10pm from school. I didn’t have anyone to pick her up. Or to look after her.

I’m tears I call my mum. She was at work. She’s a solicitor. Her job comes first as proven in her response to me when I tell her on the phone that I have to go into hospital for a blood transfusion, they are sending an ambulance to pick me up from home, she responds with “can’t they do it at the weekend?” . What am I ment to say? Other than okay mum I will see what they say. Holding back my tears so she can’t feel my pain. I say sorry to of called her at work and tell her I will let her no what the hospital say. With I’m sure that will be ok.

What I wanted to say was for fucks sake I’m fucking ill and I need urgent medical treatment before I go into cardiac arrest or have organ failure. I’m your fucking daughter why the fuck are you not dropping everything to help me by picking my dad up from school and looking after her while I’m in hospital.

But then , my daughter hardly knows her.

My mum was only interested in my brother , his wife and their kids.

What I didn’t no was that morning, my mum went into work late as she had taken my brothers daughter to school. So she couldn’t leave work early. Well not for me anyway.

So, I call the hospital. Arrange to go in the next day after I had taken my daughter to school, I lie and say I have someone to drive me, but I drive myself. As my daughter was not a planned pregnancy, in fact I had been told two years previously that I was not able to have any more children , I had treatment for the removal of cancerous cells in my lady bits and had an ovary removed at the same time as it had a tumor on it. But it was caught in time and I didn’t need any further treatment.

But I was sent home with a letter to my GP telling them if I there is any change in my periods and blood loss , I was to be referred straight back to them. As after they hacked away the cancerous tissue from my insides, they found I had endometrial polyps.

Obviously my new GP paid no attention to this after I had mentioned it to her, she put me on the pill as I had big brown slogged marks on my face and it looked like I had a tash and a dirty neck and my skin was grey and sticky. She gaveve me more iron pills 😂 she stood up and showed me the door. She reminded me of that Churchill nodding dog on the advert. But wasn’t paying attention to anything I was telling her. I was upset with how ill I was feeling. My legs and feet were so swollen and I had red hot skin on my calf. I no that’s a sign of a DVT. But she refused to ever look at them and says that she can’t tell if my feet and legs were swollen as she hadn’t seen them before.

My feet were moulding around my flip flops. I stand up and burst into tears. Asking her why is it taking as long for me to be seen by the hospital? She said she had done the referral 6 months ago. And now my beautiful long blonde hair that’s think and passed my bra strap, is falling out. I had clumps of hair missing, I had to wear a Beanie hat, it was summer time. My eye balls were yellow, I couldn’t breathe, she tells me I’m having panic attacks. I ask her for some painkillers, I had been on them for over 5 years to help with my fibromyalgia, she says no. No I’m not giving you any more medication. I say pardon? I’m on antidepressants and your not ment to just stop taking them? I say, She replies she wants me to be seen by the mental health team.

I find out that she has written to them telling them she thinks I have EUPD.

I go in to hospital to have the cross match blood test done and arrange for me to go into hospital on the Saturday to have the blood transfusion. On Saturday I’m feeling very ill. I get my daughter sorted out and explain to her that I need to go into hospital to have some special medication to make me feel better , as my daughter was then very aware of how ill I had become. She asked me why I was wee’ ing blood. I explained that I had a baddie baddie in my tummy that is turning my wee red. Bright red. And it would pour out of me. Or gush. I would have 3 Tampax in , 2 jumbo pads and it would still pour down my legs , soaking my underwear, tights and jeans and I would have “saddle bags” in seconds.

This could happen just after I had just changed and showered from it just happening 10 mins previously. I went through a box of Tampax and pads a day. 8 pairs of knickers, if you can call them that as they now are the size of my grannies pants. I must of changed my clothes at least 4 times a day . This went on for months.

I devoted my life to my daughter , I was now registered disabled and living on benefits. And paying my Mortgage out of it.But it didn’t matter, because I had her. She was my world from the first time I new I was pregnant, and that was a shock. I was on my own. My ex told me to get rid of it and if I have it he will go back to Italy and take my son with him. He wanted nothing to do with it. So from then on, my son went to live with his dad and I got ready for my miracle to be born. From then on, I was not to tell anyone who the father was and I said I had a one night stand with someone who I don’t no. Never seen him before or after or again. And that was that.

I was all prepared. I got a support package done by adult social services for the just incase I have a relapse in my CFS/ME after the birth, due to the after effects of childbirth and it could effect my mobility. The specialist pediatrics dr and CFS/ME organised it all. And I was all set up ready to face anything that may happen.

I gave birth via c section march 2010 to a beautiful girl 7lbs3oz @2:15pm

Every thing was great, my daughter was very happy and hardly cried as I had a set routine for everything. She slept all night from 12weeks old, I say all night , 10pm-6am. I enjoyed every moment with her and we did everything together. I devoted my life to her and that is what I did.

I never asked for help. As I didn’t need it .

Until this happened in 2014. I felt weak and so ill. I struggled to walk. I couldn’t keep up with the normal activities, myself and my daughter did. So art and bird watching and less energetic activities were done instead. Not that my daughter minded . She loved everything we did as we did it together. We had fun. I’m a big kid so building a fortress in my living room and using glow in the dark paint to make stars and stick them on my ceiling was just fun. We loved reading to each other and making up silly games.

My daughter loved playschool,she loves to learn and so she was going 5 days a week 6 a year before she started school and it was 9am till 3 pm.

That’s when I started to struggle. I needed help. So as I had a care plan already put together for this eventuality, I contacted adult social services and ask them to action my services package as I now need help at home , especially as limited my energy was ,I used it all on my daughter and I was struggling with everything else. Hoovering made me bleed , lifting anything made me bleed. Getting washing out of the machine made me bleed. Driving made me bleed..are you seeing where I’m going with this point?

Adult social services say they no longer have any record of my agreed services support plan, and I would need my GP to refer me to them. BUT as I have a child, they send round CHILDRENS SOCIAL SERVICES.

I’m sat in a hospital bed and on a ward. As soon as I turned up that Saturday morning an hour late as getting there was such hard work. Why is it when you feel so shit and your body tells you that your in pain, can’t breathe even tho you no you are but no air is going into your lungs , your eyes are blurry, and you now can’t see properly, that a 10 min walk from car to the treatment ward then takes 50 mins???

I’m setting off all the machines the nurses have hooked me up to, the other patients in the room raise their heads and tut at me in disappointment, i hadn’t moved or done anything wrong so why are they looking at me like that? I didn’t set the alarms off , they keep going off as I’m tachicardic and my oxygen level is low. So piss off you grumpy old tits I don’t want to be here either.

Did I mention that I have a massive needle phobia? I found having a valium used to work. Now in hospital the only way they can come near me is if they have the portable Entonox from the maternity ward and. I’m given a full mask and 8 good sucks on the gas before they can put the tourniquet on my arm. I carry my own as I don’t no where theirs has been. At this point the doctor will do anything as I’m grey, sweating and struggling to breathe like a 90 year old heavy smoker running up the stairs. Yet I’m laying still in a hospital bed.

Wow the room is spinning and everyone sounds funny. I go to speak and it sounds funny as well. The Dr asks me if I’m ok and I just nod and my eyes roll back into my head and then it’s done. One cannular is in and all taped up. The Dr looks relieved. Takes my ntonox away and tells me I need some fluids in me first before I have the 4 units of blood.

4! How long will this take? One unit of blood takes about 2 hours.

But I have to pick my daughter up at 2 as my mum has a gig. Its already 11:15. She looks at me and asked how I got to hospital today? I replied I drove why? Her mouth dropped like I just swore at her or something. You drove? Most patients who come in the state your in are on a stretcher unconscious . She asks me if I realise how ill I am and that I could have a heart attack at any second..

She calls my mum.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton