Contaminated Blood Demonstration 30-06-2010

This week I attended the Contaminated Blood demonstration in London.  This is my account of the event:

Karen and I and wheely bags.

Train from Kiddy
pork pie and sandwiches.
Change at Smethick
Disappearing train
What the... where d'it go??
Next one appears
Will we make connection?
Two minutes to spare,
cross platform onto London train.
Phew.
Oh no.

Fatality on the line.

Diversion via Stafford
north to go south.

Educate woman on train
She wishes us luck.
Late arrival.

Tube across London

meet Cheryl
bus to Southfields

meal.

Exhaustion.

Up and out
Sun is bright and we are early.

Good journey in

Meet mum and dad at cafe.

Walk to Trafalgar Square

see ship in a bottle on a plinth.

Seemingly hundreds of people

reporters

cameras

busy organised activity.

Donning t-shirts

erecting banners

distributing placards

and we're off...

Snake way down street

get attention from some

Blatant ignore-ance from others.
Walk, limp, wheel.

Hand out leaflets

explaining our cause.

Meet new campaigners,

catch up with friends,
remember too many now gone.

Congregate outside Downing Street

leave room for people to pass.

Would you like a leaflet?

Mostly taken.

Some don't look us in the eye
and walk on -

silence is violence.

Policeman doesn't move us on,

he has haemophiliac son.

Small delegation to number 10

led by Lord Morris

hand in letters and a wreath

representing those we've lost to contaminated blood.

Photos taken

interviews given.

Back on the street
on to the Houses of Parliament.

Problems getting in.

No t-shirts

No banners

No placards

No leaflets
Not allowed.

Remove t-shirts,

put placards and banners in ring-fenced pen,

leaflets stuffed in bag.

Why-ever is this necessary?

Queue in heat
hot
thirsty
tired.

Through security,

very late for meeting

rush to room 4a.

Lord Morris still speaking,

heads popping in and out

"We have booked this room".
Need us out,
Still ours right now.

"Proportion of those infected
who've since died

greater than that of Black Death."
This is our Red Death. 
And still no justice.

Must leave room

mill around in corridor

try to ascertain plan for the rest of the day.

Arrange to meet MP in central lobby

make way there,

wait.

Lots of us
waiting.

MP comes.

Introduce mum, dad and Karen.

He offers tour,

is this time waster?

Seems not, so we accept.

Through into House of Lords
red, ornate, grandeur,

round to terrace on Thames

back into House of Commons

masses of records
floor to ceiling

past library

round back of speakers chair

gargantuan statues of previous PM's.
Good god!

Maggie quite horrific.

Onwards under Bridge Street

through tunnel, like tube station

I say,

and there it is

MP's own private entrance to tube.

Up and out into Portcullis House,
cost millions to build, apparently.

Tea and business.

Explain our situation

stress how long we've been battling governments

and losing friends.

Show him letters

articles written over the years.

He asks what we actually want,

specifics.

Talk about money

on-going support and lump payments,

input into future treatment decisions,
everything in Lord Morris's Bill.

Will he support EDM?

No.

They are government graffiti.

What will he do??

Stresses his support of our campaign,

will attempt to get written question,

asking government to clarify their position.
I will send him the bill and David Cameron's letter.

Mum's a cynic.
Understandably.
I feel quietly optimistic.
I think...

We leave.
Search out others.
Share experiences,
pints,
support.


So much more to do.