Mandy Christmas - having TB as a teacher

I had started my first year in teaching, and as the weeks went by I was finding that at the end of the day I was almost voiceless because of having to constantly raise my voice and shout! This became worse and was accompanied by a hacking cough. I was a smoker and a cough in the morning is expected, but this was getting ridiculous and I knew it was nothing to do with smoking. People started to move away from me on the bus. I became very self-conscious.

I had also noticed that at night time I had the most incredible sweats, my T-shirt was completely wet, my hair dripping wet, liquid pouring down my body and I often had to change clothes during the night. For some reason I did not see this as a sign of illness. After some days off work the doctor sent me home with cough medicine and the inevitable advice to give up smoking. I was fed up of hearing this, knowing that this cough was not my normal smoker's cough. Another visit to the doctor sent me home with the information that I had a "teacher's cough"!

By now I had had 12 days off work due to sickness and was faced with a meeting to justify this in front of a senior member of staff, with a Union representative on my side - the school advised one day's voice therapy to help with the "teacher's cough"!

For my summer holidays I went to Portugal. My cough was now constant, I could not face going out during the day, I had no self-confidence through being so stressed, and I spent the days sleeping. I wanted to take holiday photographs but the thought of being in the sun or doing anything as physical as walking changed my mind. Everyone I met was commenting on my cough. For a few days I was ill with aching and had difficulty breathing. I stayed in-doors for three days and nights.

Back in England, I really struggled to teach. I started having severe pains in the chest, this became unbearable and I found it so difficult to breathe that I nearly phoned the hospital. I felt I was going to die. First thing next morning I phoned the school, which is the procedure to say I was not going in. The response was "Oh NO, you are not having more time off work!". I went to the doctor, I didn't mention night sweats, but we did talk about the shape, size and colour of my sputum. It was this that made the doctor send me to have an x-ray. We have canaries at home, and I was showing signs of an allergy to canaries!!

I went straight away to have the x-ray and was told I should be able to get the result within 10 days. The next day I knew that I couldn't make it into school. I phoned my colleague, who launched into a speech on how unfair it was of me to take more time off work, that it meant other staff had to take my lessons, that the most important thing was the education of the kids and that I should struggle in and suck cough sweets. I did go in the next day, and another member of staff asked me if I should be back at work because I looked like death warmed up, I said 'not to worry I can suck cough sweets!!'

The following week I had to go to the hospital to discuss the X-ray and I was told that it looked almost certain that I had TB. The conversation then turned to my work. The doctor said that my class would have to be screened. I suddenly felt so guilty, I said that I don't have a class, but I teach about 400 kids. This was the point when the tears started flowing.

The doctor was very sympathetic and said this was not my problem and not my fault. I really couldn't believe that I had something that I thought had gone out with World War II. I had got something that kills people.

I was told that people still have a strange attitude to TB. This was confirmed when I had a flaming row that day with a friend who said that it was my fault because I drink (a glass or two of wine with my evening meal), smoke, and I am a vegetarian. I ended up in tears having been made to feel like scum and trying to justify my life and trying to convince my friend that it was not my fault.

The school would now be officially informed. Staff and pupils were not told that it was me that had TB but really it was obvious -some parents panicked. Family and friends were advised to be tested and the guilt grew. I commenced the medication.

I had to start some artwork or I would let myself down. I began working on small-scale sculptures. I was very tired and slept a lot and mostly did the artwork late at night or in the early hours. This was the only thing that was occupying my time, especially for the first 5 weeks while I was still infectious.

I seemed to be visiting the doctors or hospital, having x-rays, blood or sputum tests or having home visits from the TB Nurse every week, and once not infectious, I did not want to stray too far from home in case I needed the hospital. My energy level was very low.

One of the symptoms of TB is lack of appetite and weight loss, but my appetite didn't go, in fact the opposite, I was losing weight and became very thin, but I was eating more. Once medication began, I soon put on nearly three and a half stone. For the hospital this is good, for me it is very difficult. Back to the guilt feelings.

It was discovered that my cousin's youngest son who is 9 has TB which shows on the X-ray of his lungs. He lives in an area where there hasn't been a case of TB in the under 10's for 10 years. Not an inner city multicultural area, but a very suburban, white, very English area. I had visited my cousin just before and just after the summer holidays, so it is 99.9% certain that I had passed it on. He is now on medication, he is also showing signs of tiredness, which has affected things such as his time trials at swimming, and for a boy to have orange urine is not simple, he can't use urinals with the others now. More hospital visits, but my X-rays don't seem to show much improvement, my lungs had been so badly damaged. The doctor said that I had been very ill when I first went to the hospital and it was very rare to have seen such a bad X-ray.

It has been an experience. I have yet to find out to what extent the damage to my lungs will affect me in the future. I went back to work on the 10th May 1999 after 6 months.