Clodagh Finn: Fifteen lessons I learned from Vicky Phelan in her too-short life

Vicky Phelan used her voice not just to challenge, but to rock the system, and she left behind a considerable legacy

Vicky Phelan used her voice not just to
challenge, but to rock the system, and
she left behind a considerable legacy. Picture: RTÉ

I re-read Vicky Phelan’s memoir Overcoming after hearing of her death on Monday. I wanted to compile an inventory of what she did and, more importantly, of what she urged us — the women of Ireland — to do.

I will print out this guide of sorts and tape it to my fridge door as a reminder of how one woman overcame so much adversity to make Ireland a better place. She used her voice not just to challenge, but to rock the system. And she left behind a considerable legacy.

Here are some of the lessons she taught us in her too-short life. The best way we can honour this extraordinary woman is to put them into practice in our everyday lives.

Speak up, speak up, speak up

She did so herself most memorably on the steps of the High Court in April 2018 when she refused to sign a non-disclosure agreement so that she could tell the world of the CervicalCheck scandal.

Vicky Phelan speaking to the media in Government Buildings in 2018 after her meeting with then taoiseach Leo Varadkar. Picture: Leah Farrell/RollingNews.ie

“Mistakes can and do happen, but the conduct of CervicalCheck and the HSE … is unforgiveable,” she said. “To know for almost three years that a mistake had been made and that I was misdiagnosed was bad enough, but to keep that information from me until I became terminally ill and to drag me through the courts for my right to the truth is an appalling breach of trust.”

It was not the first time she spoke up and challenged the establishment. After having a horrific car accident in France in 1994, which claimed the life of her boyfriend and a close friend, she questioned the treatment plan proposed by an Irish consultant because it went against the advice of the French team who knew her much better. The consultant told her parents she had an attitude problem.

Get angry

When diagnosed with toxoplasmosis, a serious infection, during her first pregnancy, she was furious when the consultant said that other women would consider a termination.

“‘Are you trying to tell me that this baby is not going to be compatible with life?’ I was speaking loudly now. He [the doctor] looked uncomfortable, probably wondering if the patients in the waiting room could hear the conversation. I raised my voice again. ‘Why do you think I would drive all the way from Waterford and put myself through that amniocentesis if I didn’t want this baby?’. ‘Get out!’ I screamed. I felt so angry.”

“I wondered why the consultants are so often men — at the point where you feel most vulnerable as a woman.”

Girls can have attitude, even little ones

At age three, she persuaded school principal Mr Dineen that she was ready to start school. “By the age of 12, as my primary school days came to an end, I had a strong mind of my own and had a clear idea of where I wanted my life to go. I still had the tenacity of that three-year-old who stood in front of Mr Dineen.”

Be curious

 “I couldn’t help my natural curiosity, any more than I could help the colour of my eyes.”

Stand up to bullies

At school, Paula “leapt up and gave me an almighty push. ‘Look who it is!’ she teased. I could feel my anger building. ‘Enough is enough!’ I yelled, to the surprise of everyone, including myself. ‘Paula, I’m tired of this. I think we should go down to the headmaster’s office and talk this through.’ She froze on the spot. She wasn’t good at talking. She liked pushing and shoving. I braced myself, expecting her to launch at me again. She gave me one last menacing look and returned to her throne.”

Mol an óige agus tiocfaidh sí (praise the young and they will flourish)

Vicky was the first of her extended family to go to college, studying European Studies at the University of Limerick. And that was saying something as there were 96 first cousins on her father’s side alone. “I often wonder what my life would have been like if it hadn’t been for [teacher] Miss Keyes, pushing me the way she did, and Mam, constantly encouraging me to invest in my education.”

Learn a language

“[Languages] are like a secret door into another world, another culture. Learning a language was like decrypting a code. I felt I could be most expressive in French and Spanish. They brought out different sides of my personality.”

Don’t hide post-natal depression

A digital artwork of Vicky Phelan is projected onto the GPO in Dublin to mark the release of a feature documentary about her life in October.

You can love your child unconditionally yet suffer post-natal depression: “As I drove away, I looked at Amelia through the rear-view mirror, lying in the baby seat in the back of the car. I tried to work out what I was feeling towards her. It was resentment; I resented her for bringing this depression into my life … It was still a secret I tried to keep hidden from the rest of the world.”

Counselling helps

“Counselling can be frightening, peeling back the layers, like peeling an onion, while your eyes stream with tears. But it’s worth the sting when you get to the heart of things. It’s only then that you begin to heal.”

Cancer might not be the worst thing to happen to you

When Vicky’s daughter Amelia was burned by a spark flying from the fire, she and her husband found it impossible to talk about. “To this day it is the hardest thing to talk about. It was the worst thing, of everything. When it is your own child and you cannot make their pain go away, there is no greater pain.”

Speak about the after-effects of chemo

“They say if you have cancer above the waist you lose your hair, and below you don’t. Though I lost my pubic hair. They didn’t tell me that was going to happen.

“People don’t talk about that kind of thing. They should. It’s frightening otherwise. The not speaking about it makes it worse.”

Love is all there is

“My children are what drives me, every day, and what makes me fight for any time I can have with them here on this earth.”

Call out the platitudes

“I’m here to tell you now, while I still can, that I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want your tributes. I don’t want your aide de camp at my funeral. I don’t want your accolades or your broken promises. I want action. I want change. I want accountability.”

Women’s health matters

“My dying wish will be for the women of Ireland — that because of what has happened in this past year [2018], maybe my last year on earth, they will be able to trust that their lives are in safe hands, that they will be minded and cared for at their most vulnerable, and that everything will be done to give them the lives they deserve, the time they deserve, with the people they love and who love them, and who need them in the world.”

Savour every moment

“Every sunrise, every sunset, every blessed day. They all count. Every one.”