Orientation for my readers:
I started keeping my secret diary in 1970, when my Auntie May gave it to me as a present. It was a five-year diary, with 4 lines per day, and with a little lock and key. I kept it fairly consistently for 5 years, with one or two lapses. I was 13 when I started keeping the diary.
I have been reproducing it on this blog, roughly every fortnight, so I am now up to 1972, when I was 15. Sadly, however, there were no entries from early February 1972 to late April 1972.
I try to transcribe honestly, but I have been known to make slight adjustments, for ethical reasons: mainly to protect others or myself from public exposure! Please try not to judge my teenage self too harshly!
I started writing my diary again, with alarming content, on 23rd April 1972.
April 23 (Sun)
Oh Jesus. Why? Lady could die. Cried nearly all day. Dad had heart attack, "emergency" doctor took an hour to get here. He was in such pain!! Oh Why?
April 24 (Mon)
Dad gone to hospital - so depressed. What'll happen to Lady? Being poisoned internally. She might die. Please no. Everyone (Carol and Ju) were sympathetic. Russ*. OK. Why? Why us?
April 25
Lady had operation today. Dad ok. Poor Lady "As well as can be expected" Vet thought she wouldn't survive. S phoned yesterday about chemistry homework.
April 26*
Lady's operation was to have her womb removed. Norma visited her. It feels so lonely without her and dad. Strange how you miss people (and dogs). People think I'm awful, I suppose. I seem to talk about Lady more than Dad. Sometimes I wish that we were all friends again. I feel so tired, so depressed.
April 27 (Thurs)
Today Lady came home (in a taxi*). Oh thank Jesus she's alive! She's got yellow jaundice. Her liver's packing in and she might still die. A man in the bed next to dad who's very ill. I realise now that maybe it's not our family that's the worst off out of everyone. There's always someone worse off than yourself. So they say. Is it true? Surely not always?
April 28 (Fri)
Life still goes on. As usual. Spacemen home (I think. I'm writing this on May 1st) Bob Dylan on tape. He's great. Lady's a bit better. Operation cost £18. That's a lot of money. Dad was very shocked. Can't they see it's worth it? She's alive. Dad's very bored in hospital. Feel sorry or him. Nothing to do. Please get better Lady.*
April 29 (Sat)
The man in the bed next to dad's has had 11 heart attacks. It runs in the family his wife said. Oh Jesus the poor man*. Lady is looking so well now. You wouldn;t bbelieve she was ill last week. Kept up till 4.30am with her though. Wrote letter to Shirl and a bit of one to Lorette. Began to make calico shorts for holiday.
April 30 (Sun)
Today I'm happy. Dad's well. Lady's jaundice is clearing. Perfect day except Norma went back to Birmingham*. Spinners on TV. So beautiful, made me so happy. School tomorrow.
* Commentary
April 24 - why did I write 'Russ'? I think that, despite everything that was going on, Russian lessons were a constant source of worry and stress - not because of the content so much as the scary, volatile, teacher.
April 26 - I started to write very small, so I could cram 2 lines of writing into each space.
April 27 - I cannot emphasis enough how rare and exotic and extravagant taxis were in those days, for us as a family. Even now I regard them as some kind of extravagant luxury, while most people see them as a convenient mode of transport.
April 28. Looking back it is a little shocking that I seemed more upset about the dog. But I suspect that it was easier to think about the dog's mortality than my father's. I think that Lady became the focus for all grief and fear.
April 29 - I had an asterix in my diary with a later note saying this man had died in August 1972 - not sure how we knew this.
April 30 - N was at university in Birmingham. The Spinners were a popular folk group.
