Vulnerable people can prosper when the State takes care of them
WHEN she was 2, my daughter Emma had a terrible accident. She fell off a bed and caught her forehead on the corner of a sheet of glass. My wife, hearing a scream, ran down the hall and found Emma, on the floor, with what looked like a gaping black hole in her forehead.
It was black only for a moment, and then began pumping blood. As quickly as she could, Frieda wrapped Emma’s head tightly in one of those towelling nappies that we used in those days, bundled her and her two sisters into the car, and drove to the doctor. Without even examining Emma, the doctor told her to drive on to the Cork Regional Hospital, around ten minutes away. He phoned ahead, so that when Frieda arrived at the door of Casualty, there was a full team waiting.
