top of page

Frances Burrows

Frances Burrows as a child.jpg

A childhood moment under the table marked the start of paralysis and years of hospitals and callipers, met with determination rather than defeat. Despite challenges, Frances built a career, raised a family, and remains independent and active - still “under the table,” but living life fully.

It’s 1946.

Normal day. Playing under the table, my favourite place.

Mummy called - legs went the wrong way, I couldn’t get up.

Mummy called again - nothing happened, fell over.

Start of nightmare……..

​

The ambulance came and I was taken to Norwood Isolation Hospital and put in an iron cot with other children, distraught parents only allowed visits once a week.

 

Even then, at two years old, I was determined to stand, refusing to eat and clinging to the cot sides until I could pull myself up.

​

My parents decided to move north to Newcastle and there started years of physio, hot water baths, electric shocks, operations and the world of callipers and boots - I hated those boots, I wanted pretty little patent shoes.

​

But it wasn’t all bad - you just had to get used to the system and a new way of doing things. Having an operation in the 1960s was very different from today - months in plasters and we made lots of friends in the hospital. I remember jumping up and down on the clean white bedspreads and singing all the current songs (Matron wasn’t too impressed!). Visits once a week and all sweeties had to be handed in, we were allowed six treats after supper……I always chose the Smarties.

 

I loved school - I wanted to join in with everything and there was many a broken calliper where I had landed badly after skipping. I started a new school and was so excited, had to catch the bus, and of course could never wait for anything so took a flying leap off the platform, and yes, broke my calliper. There I was at the gates, sitting forlornly on a staddle stone, when along came a coal lorry. So, I arrived on my first day aloft a coal truck - it’s one way to make an entrance! I was probably labelled troublemaker from thereon in.

​

At thirteen I went to a co-ed boarding school with a whole new chapter and met a special friend who now only lives an hour away. We were in a dormitory together and of course once I had taken off my calliper at bedtime, I then had to crawl to the loo - I learned to scamper along the corridor at great pace. We had such an enlightened headmaster who allowed me to do anything, things that other people had deemed “too difficult”. I could shin up a rope in the gym faster than anyone else, became a guide patrol leader, won prizes for French, Latin and Handwriting, swam nearly every day, and my disability did not exist.

​

I married young, worked hard to become an accountant/auditor but had to retire when I was just turned fifty - PPS had entered my life. I was very lucky to meet all sorts of lovely people in the workplace and outside and met no prejudice. Two sons, six grandchildren and a Staffy called Rosie. I was widowed six years ago after so many wonderful years but still live on my own and tear about on my electric wheelchair, dog in tow, scaring the locals. I love watercolour painting, genealogy and gardening (amazing what you can do with a long-handled fork!).

​

So, it’s 2026.

​

Still under the table, but with a bottle of ginger wine and a chocolate bar!

bottom of page