I was born 70 years ago yesterday, six weeks premature, in the back bedroom of a small Victorian terraced house, during an air raid. It was only after I had arrived, weighing in at three and a half pounds that the midwife realised there was another baby to be delivered. The Midwife removed the soiled draw sheets, put them in a wicker clothes basket by the bed. She then wrapped me in some towels, put me in the clothes basket too and got on with delivering my brother. My Gran was in the washhouse at the bottom of the yard lighting the fire under the boiler to ensure a good supply of hot water and when she came back to the bedroom it was to see my brother being delivered. She picked up the clothes basket containing the washing and little old me and set off for the washhouse. Thankfully, the Midwife realised the basket had gone and called from the window just as Gran arrived at the washhouse door. Phew! I nearly had an early bath . My brother was just under four pounds and we shared a single pram for the first four months of our lives. We survived more air-raids and came through the war unscathed. I married at twenty and had three lovely daughters and then when I was thirty four, fate again tried to get rid of me and I was diagnosed with oral cancer. After an eight hour operation to remove the tumour, during which my heart stopped , half my tongue and the glands from my neck were removed and
I had to have eight more plastic surgeries to rebuild my mouth and neck. I couldn't speak for weeks, but oh boy, have I made up for it since. I can talk the hind legs off a donkey.
The following years of my life were great and Greg and I enjoyed life to the full. We've travelled to lots of wonderful places and had great fun with an endless stream of pets.
We now have five Grandchildren and a Great Grandchild on the way.
Last year I had a hip replacement (and a blood clot in my leg) oops! which has given me a new lease of life( the hip, not the clot) and despite attempts to stop me I'VE MADE IT TO SEVENTY YIPPEE!!