Petra Ecclestone, daughter of Formula One boss Bernie, describes in today’s Times her agonising experience when she contracted viral meningitis: “I was in so much pain I wanted to die.” She has now become a worthy ambassador for the Meningitis Trust, describing her illness as a life-changing experience, no longer taking her health for granted.

I have also had viral meningitis, and this is what happened to me. Like Petra, I had just returned home on an aeroplane flight; Petra had been to Athens and I was coming back from California where I had visited my boyfriend at the time. Interestingly, I had never previously considered that I could have caught the virus on the plane which is what she believes happened.

I later remember feeling unwell, but put it down to flu. Then my bladder stopped working and I was unable to go to the loo; it had obviously affected my waterworks, though I had no idea at the time. I remember drinking gallons of  water in a naive and vain attempt to get it working again, but it merely resulted in my discomfort increasing considerably and I became more bloated.

One night I woke soaked in sweat and was unable to move my neck. I had the most blinding headache which I had never experienced before, nor since. I sat up on the bed and did not have the strength to reach for pain relieving tablets. I was paralysed with pain and couldn’t move an inch. I was alone in my house with no phone by my bed. I somehow got through the night, and forced myself to go to work the next morning because I felt guilty that I had  just returned from holiday. I had a miserable news editor at the time at the Cambridge News who always complained how his holidays were spent decorating the house while us singletons with more money than sense jetted off to exotic locations. I even cycled to work, which is what one does in Cambridge.

Within a couple of hours I felt that the Grim Reaper was but moment’s away. In deseperation I rang Addenbrooke’s Hospital and asked if I could come in as my bladder was not working, but they advised me to go to my GP. I pleaded at work to borrow an office car to get there, and when I arrived at the surgery, I was virtually on my knees. I will never forget the kindness of the woman doctor who instantly relieved me of my bulging bladder and put her arms around me to offer comfort, saying she had never seen such a full bladder in her life, and that I must have been in terrible agony. (sorry, I know this might be too much detail, but it was true).

I was instantly admitted to Addenbrooke’s and the cause of my illness was a mystery for a couple of days until I had a lumbar puncture which diagnosed viral meningitis; this is a very delicate producure which involves taking fluid from around the spinal cord. This was performed perfectly by my friend’s father who was a consultant there. Unfortunately, he was not available when the test had to be repeated to monitor my progress. I was wheeled into a room where the doctor jabbed the needle into my back and asked me if I could feel anything, and then said he had broken the needle. I was in tears afterwards from the pain of it all. I naturally complained, and my consultant apologised profusely and told me the doctor concerned would not be allowed to do any more lumbar punctures until he had practised more on stiffs in the mortuary!

Thankfully, I fully recovered and did not suffer any continuing problems which Petra says she does, such as vicious headaches and neck stiffness. The memory of it stays with me and as a result of that terrible experience, I refused to have an epidural during childbirth.

Incidentally, regarding my moaning news editor, I did once return from a holiday in Russia with Amoebic dysentery and had to have time off  to recuperate, and was delayed another time when my passport was stolen in France and I was stranded there when my then boyfriend’s car (a Morgan) broke down outside Paris. But that’s another story…..