An hour later, my eldest daughter, Charlotte who was 15, saw the rash all over his chest and neck. She had previously learnt about meningitis and the glass test at school. She ran downstairs to fetch a glass. A few moments later, she was screaming my name; the rash wouldn't go away. I called the GP once more - he came straight out. By this time, Daryl was delirious and making strange low groaning sounds. He started to have a seizure. The GP said he didn't know what was wrong and so called an ambulance. (We later learned from the hospital that the GP had called them and said he thought Daryl was drunk).
On arrival at the hospital, the nursing sister ripped Daryl's shirt off and saw his rash. Whilst the doctors tried to take blood from Daryl, the sister told me she thought he had meningitis and that they would have to take him to intensive care.
They wheeled him into the lift; seconds later, Daryl's heart stopped. The doctor started pumping Daryl's chest. We got out of the lift at intensive care; doctors rushed Daryl through. I was asked to sit and wait outside. A priest came to sit with me. My husband had been at a friend's New Year party and I had phoned a friend to find him. He joined me and started to cry.