Melanie’s vibrant daughter was just 21 when a stumble landed her in hospital, and they were plunged into a nightmare…
While I was making dinner and talking to my eldest daughter, one of her favourite songs came on the radio.
Suddenly, Eve, 20, started jumping around to the music.
‘Let’s dance, Mam,’ she giggled, twirling me around.
I’d had her at 18, and we’d grown up together.
Eve wasn’t just my daughter, she was my best friend.
Everyone loved her, from her colleagues at the shoe shop she managed, to her four younger sisters and brother.
Growing up, she’d been like a little mum to them.
One evening, a year later, her dad Barry and I had gone to collect Eve after she’d spent the day with her boyfriend.
I watched the pair approaching.
Only, as Eve went to cross the road, she slipped and fell.
I thought she would soon get to her feet.
But when she didn’t move, Barry and I ran over.
‘I can’t get up, Mam,’ Eve cried.
Her foot was bruised, and we feared something was broken.
We took her straight to A&E, where a nurse examined her leg.
Afterwards, we were told she’d be admitted and assessed by a doctor.
‘Stay in touch, love,’ I said, kissing Eve goodbye as we returned home to our other children.
We were in constant text contact with Eve, who said she’d had a CT scan and X-ray, and expected she would be back home later that night.
Only, the next morning, she still wasn’t.
Barry and I made our way to the hospital, and were shocked by what we saw.
The corridors were crammed full of patients lying on trolleys.
Among all the sick people, we spotted Eve.
‘This isn’t a good place for her,’ I whispered to Barry.
‘It’s like bedlam in here,’ he agreed.
Someone had used a nearby sink as a toilet and the stench hung in the air.
Eve’s leg also appeared to have got more swollen — and I was worried.
She was in pain, and clingy, which was unlike her.
‘Can you lie down with me a while, Mam?’ Eve said. ‘You won’t leave me on my own,
will you?’
As I climbed in beside her, I rubbed her head.
'My leg's still swollen and sore'
I wanted to stay with her, but
I felt torn.
It was my youngest girl’s 12th birthday, and I needed to sort out her party.
‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ I said to Eve.
But not long after I’d walked through the front door, Eve called, wanting to come home.
I rushed back to be with her, and kept asking the doctors what was wrong.
But no one seemed to know.
Even while she was in pain, Eve was thinking of her sister.
‘I’ve ruined her birthday,’ she fretted.
After 17 hours on a trolley, Eve was moved on to a ward.
Four hours later, a doctor said her scans were fine, and said she could go home.
‘Are you sure?’
Eve asked. ‘My leg’s still swollen and sore.’
But he just told her to rest it and take anti-inflammatories.
Back home, Eve sat on the couch with her leg propped up.
She was very tired, but seemed to have perked up.
Later that night, she asked her brother to fetch her something.
‘You’re always there for me,’ she said, handing me a small box with a love-knot ring inside.
It was for my birthday in 10 days’ time.
‘I wanted to give you your present early, but we’ll go out
for lunch when I feel better,’ she said.
At around 11.15pm, she went to bed, helped up the stairs by her boyfriend.
Only, half an hour later, I heard him scream my name.
My stomach lurched when I saw Eve.
Her face was grey and her lips had turned blue.
Suddenly, she collapsed.
Barry called for an ambulance.
Then, he handed me the phone as he tried to resuscitate his
own daughter.
I realised with horror that she must have had a heart attack.
Minutes later, the paramedics arrived and took over.
By then, most of the children had woken up and were distraught to see their big sister so poorly.
I kneeled by Eve.
Her eyes, usually a stunning ice-blue, were black.
‘You’re the best girl, you changed my life. Please don’t leave me,’ I pleaded.
Suddenly, Eve pulled down her oxygen mask, and her delicate hands held my face.
‘I’m so sorry, Mam,’
she said.
Only, just as she started to speak again, she had a second cardiac arrest.
Eve was rushed to A&E, and we followed in another ambulance.
Because she was so young — just 21 — they tried for 90 minutes to
save her.
But when I heard her
ribs crack, I asked them
to stop.
I knew then that my precious girl was never coming home.
Afterwards, my world crashed.
Barry and I couldn’t understand how our daughter had suddenly gone, after a simple fall.
Telling the other children was one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to do.
Days later, it was Eve’s autopsy.
We learnt she had died
of a blood clot that had travelled from her leg to
her lung.
On the day of Eve’s funeral, a woman from the hospital rang, wanting to set up a meeting to discuss her care.
‘We’re not ready, we need time to grieve,’ I said, adding she hadn’t received proper care.
On my 40th birthday, Barry and I sat down with the hospital to try and find out what had happened to our daughter.
The hospital agreed to an internal investigation, but the outcome left us with many unanswered questions.
Two years later, her inquest returned a verdict of medical misadventure.
It was heard that Eve wasn’t assessed for blood clots, despite presenting with several risk factors and having a family history.
The hospital was operating on a skeleton staff, and no one was available to operate the hospital’s ultrasound equipment, which along with a blood test, were the two main methods of diagnosing blood clots, it was heard.
Despite being in severe pain and unable to walk, Eve was discharged and died three
hours later.
Afterwards, we felt our daughter’s death could have been prevented and that she had been failed by the people who should have cared for her.
'We're going to get justice for Eve'
As a family, we decided to take legal action against the HSE (Health and Safety Executive) over Eve’s death.
It was never about money.
It was about accountability and an apology.
‘It’s the only way we’re going to get justice for Eve,’ I said to Barry.
Three years later, the day of the High Court case arrived.
Our medical expert claimed that if Eve had received a blood clot VTE risk assessment, and been given an anti-coagulant, it would have prevented her developing the blood clot, and ultimately, her death.
The HSE accepted a formal risk assessment in relation to blood clots was not done, but denied all other claims.
Three gruelling weeks of cross-examination and giving evidence took its toll, but finally, we reached a settlement.
It was over.
As part of the settlement, the HSE and hospital expressed ‘sincere condolences and deep regret’ on the ‘untimely death’
of Eve.
The High Court heard that the settlement was without an admission of liability.
The hospital said it was introducing a rolling audit programme on recognising, reducing and managing VTE,
or blood clots in the veins, in Eve’s memory.
We didn’t get the apology we were hoping for.
But we hope that Eve is proud of us, and her legacy will help save lives.
Melanie Sheehan, 43, Limerick
● Melanie is donating her fee to Thrombosis Ireland.