CHAILEY I'm the eldest of seven and luckily the only one who had Polio. I was three years old and the NHS was a bright hope in 1949. I learnt to walk on cobbles before I had crutches, getting around my village with my hands against the walls of the houses. I had my sisters and incredible freedom. It couldn't last and behind my back forces were gathering to determine what would be best for me in terms of education and rehabilitation. The morning my fourth sister, Deborah, was born I was woken up in the dark and dressed, taken downstairs to kiss my mother and new sister and after a day's travelling by car and train fell asleep and awoke in Jubilee Block Ward, on my own. The next thing I remember is lying on my back in a plaster cast in a vain hope that my back, legs, and feet would straighten out. When the cast was removed it was replaced by knee to toes plaster casts, which I truly believed would cure me and I would be able to walk. This was a belief that together with the Sunday school teacher telling me that if we prayed hard enough God would grant a miracle. I was a believer even at that young age and I did an afternoon praying fervently and then, having complete faith I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and promptly did the splits in my plastered legs and went down on the floor. I remember screaming "youm a bleddy liar God" at the top of my Devonshire voice. Annie Goodhall (Patsy Anne Moyse) 1954-1962

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