Tony Cunnane's Early Years 1935-53

In the last couple of years of the war, I was a thin, sickly child, more so than could be solely accounted for by the wartime diet. I had measles, mumps and chicken pox one after the other in quick succession, as did most of the children at St James’ School, so nothing unusual there. I also had frequent colds, aches and pains, and generally felt unwell for a lot of the time. I spent hours lying in my underpants under a sun-ray lamp at the local children's clinic in King Street.

Eventually, some time in 1946, when I had been suffering acute but intermittent pain in the right hand side of my abdomen for several days running, I was referred to Clayton Hospital in Wakefield. Dad went with me. He was told to remain in the waiting room while a nurse led me off down several corridors and into a small cubicle. There was already a man in there getting dressed. The nurse told me to take all my clothes off and lie on the bed. I undressed as slowly as possible. When the man was fully dressed he left the cubicle and I quickly removed the rest of my clothes and slid under the sheet on the bed, pulling it all the way up to my chin.

Eventually a white-coated doctor came in and pulled on a pair of thin rubber gloves. Meanwhile the nurse pulled the bed sheet all the way back to my ankles and told me to turn onto my left side and pull my knees as far as possible under my chin. I was horrified to be subjected to a DRE (if you don’t know what a DRE is, don’t ask!). I found it quite painful and humiliating, especially as the doctor never explained to me why he was doing what he was doing. Even worse, the nurse remained in attendance – I was old enough to be embarrassed to be naked in front of a woman although I suppose she was there as a chaperon in addition to any medical duties. The doctor never said a single word to me. When he had finished he disappeared.

Above:

The upstairs ward to which I was moved a few days after my operation. It had old fashioned folding windows in those days - and on most days, warm or cold, they were folded fully back thus providing lots and lots of fresh air to aid our recovery! Because of the very restricted visiting hours for parents and friends, the ground outside beneath the veranda windows was occupied by visitors most days; they had to shout to attract the attention of their loved ones. Those who were allowed to move out of bed could do so and peer out over the veranda wall; the rest of us had to conduct our conversations without actually seeing each other.

The nurse waited while I got dressed and then she took me back to the waiting room. Dad asked me what the doctor had said and done. I couldn’t bring myself to describe what had happened so I just said that he’d looked at me and pressed my stomach. After a few minutes the doctor came into the waiting room. He announced that I had appendicitis and needed to be admitted immediately. It was then about midday. No waiting lists then!

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