Sara, Kelvindale

Transcription

My NHS

My family has problems. Big problems. I am one of 10 siblings, five boys, Sam, Jack, Ian, Indigo and Cameron and 5 girls, me, Saffron, Rose, Margaret and Molly. Sam has Cerebral Palsy, which means we have to take him to the hospital monthly. Jack was run over, age 7, and lost the use of one arm. Ian has a wheelchair, Indigo has serious depression which means he spends a lot of his time plotting how to kill himself which we regularly have to stop. The pills we give him don’t really work. Cameron, who is 20, is a social anthropologist, which means you have to spend at least two years living with Eskimos in the North Pole or the Amazonians in the Amazon rainforest, learning about their cultures. Cameron chose Africa and came back with HIV, which means we can only see him once a month through this big glass window. Saffron has Dwarf Syndrome which means she is very short and can’t play with us in the afternoon, as she has to rest. The doctors say she has a life expectancy of 40, whereas the average is 75. Rose is blind which means she has a guide dog, Gusto, to lead her around. Margaret has Down Syndrome but always seems really happy, despite her illness. Molly has Leukaemia and could die any day now.

100 years ago most of my family would be dead, or in great pain. Saffron might be on a freak show, which Victorians generally loved. Molly would definitely be dead, although Cameron would have never visited Africa, it being too far away. Indigo would have killed himself by now. That would be 40 years before the NHS.

Our family would have to pay up to £1 million a year to treat us all. The NHS helped us, so now it costs nothing.

In 60 years I hope all my brothers and sisters can be cured with one single pill, so different to the ones given out in the 50s and the 60s. Everyone will be given an armband which gives you ultimate protection, 24/7.