In 1990, aged just 18 months, my younger sister suffered her first epileptic seizure. This turned out to be the first of many and the start of a long process with multiple stays in hospital and investigations which ultimately led to her being recognised as having suffered an acquired brain injury, possibly at birth and mostly likely exacerbated by the seizure.
I was only six years old when this happened and didn’t really know much about what was going on due to my parents trying to protect me from the undoubted horror they were living through.
Fast-forward several years and my sister is very much healthy and happy and living in a fantastic house with friends and lots of support. However, the process of getting from then to now has shaped me significantly both as a person, a sister, daughter and I believe, a lawyer.
Growing up with a brain injured sibling is different, I’m sure, in many ways from growing up with an able-bodied sibling. However, in some ways it is exactly the same.
We fought on occasion, we would get annoyed with each other but we would also be there for one another.
As we have gotten older, I have become more aware of the differences and, on occasion, I think about the person my sister might have been and the life we could have had together but for her brain injury. In the past, I used to feel guilty about having these thoughts, as if they somehow indicated that I didn’t love my sister as she is, but I now know that this is normal.
Working for PotterReesDolan I have the pleasure and privilege of working with many different families dealing with differing disabilities but I understand that there are some things which unite every one of those families: the desire to protect their child or partner or sibling after injury and the sorrow that accompanies the injury.
I have also come to learn that, particularly with brain injury, there is a loss. The person you knew or might have known is no longer there, they have changed and whilst they may look the same they might not act the same.
I still think about the person my sister might have been; laughing with family members about the fact that she would probably have been a rebel causing trouble for us all, but for me this is no longer accompanied by sadness or guilt for having those thoughts. It is accompanied by the desire to ensure that my sister can achieve her potential and the thought that my life now has been shaped through her and her disabilities and that helps me.
My sister hasn’t achieved any incredible feats throughout her life; she hasn’t climbed Everest or raised huge sums of money for charity but neither have I. My sister, however, has always been there for me as any other sibling would be and was the most fantastic bridesmaid I could have wished for on my wedding day.
My sister and I both lead relatively quiet but happy lives and that in itself is an achievement and one I would not change for the world.
Hannah Bottomley is a clinical negligence solicitor with Potter Rees Dolan. Should you have any queries about clinical negligence issues and wish to speak with Hannah or any other member of the team please contact us on 0161 237 5888.