Cranioplasty (Titanium Plate) for Keri

My name is John, but everyone calls me Dawson.

I met Keri when we were teenagers at school, back in 1971. We were at grammar school and she was a couple of years below me, but when she smiled at me I knew then that we'd be together forever.

We went on a date to see the Railway Children, and as we got to know each other I discovered that this lovely, smiling girl was growing up in a living hell at the hands of her father. It was the worst kind of abuse.

We married as soon as we could, in 1978, and went on to have two daughters. Sometimes, through no fault of their own, victims of abuse reflect that abuse onto their own children, but with Keri, it was as though the heartbreaking years of her own childhood had taught her exactly what not to do. She was a perfect mother; strong and protective, fun and loving, and generous to a fault.

It wasn't until 2021 that Keri found the courage to speak to the police about the terrible decades-long crimes she had endured, and at last, at the end of 2023, as an elderly man, her father was convicted to 18 years in prison for the dreadful sexual crimes he had committed.

I thought that at last my lovely wife would feel a weight lifted from her shoulders. When the police then said that Keri would receive a "Victim payout" to help rebuild her life, Keri's first thought was to give it to our daughter, who needed surgery. She felt that helping others would give her most happiness. But our daughter's surgery was not major and she said no, mum, it's for you.

But as it happened, before she could do anything, on her father's birthday at the start of 2024, even though he was safely in jail, Keri suffered a massive and catastrophic stroke. As fortune would have it, I was just bringing her a cup of tea after our daily walk around the village, when it happened and I was able to call 999.

The NHS did an amazing job of saving her life. We had caught it just in time. She was transferred to Sheffield where they did a craniotomy overnight. Without this, she would have died.

Our family rallied round, and prayed by her bedside as she lay in intensive care.

Eventually, she woke up, but couldn't speak, and was paralysed down her right-hand side. The doctors said it had been a temporary spike in blood pressure, a spike in stress following the prolonged stress of the trial, and of her childhood and the decades of harrowing flashbacks and memories, the daily tears and breakdowns, that had caused the damage.

Months passed, and Keri was transferred to a rehabilitation centre, but although the staff were excellent and kind, there was no rehabilitation. Instead, I worked with her each day, working through hours of speech exercises and manipulation of her paralysed hand and leg to prevent them seizing up and becoming unsavable.

In October of 2024, Keri was discharged home, with a promise of "robust" physiotherapy. But since then, she has had only six sessions of physiotherapy.

After a stroke, it is advised that you have hours of physiotherapy and speech therapy each week - two to three hours a day of physio in fact, but Keri has received a total of six hours of physio in eight months.

To that end, I am desperate to get Keri into a new private physiotherapy unit which works extensively with stroke victims. But they have stated that they can do nothing whilst Keri's skull is incomplete, for safety reasons.

We waited for her cranioplasty - fitting of a titanium plate, so that she can begin proper rehabilitation, and the surgeons say that after a cranioplasty, speech starts to improve too in many cases.

Finally, in April 2025, she had the surgery. We were all so relieved to see her without - for want of a better word - a big dent in her head. But barely a fortnight later, I woke up from my mattress on the floor next to Keri's hospital-style bed in what was our dining room, to see that the wound was severely infected.

At first they refused to send her back to hospital, but when I eventually got her in front of the right specialist, it became apparent that there was a serious problem. There was an infection UNDER the titanium plate. It had to be removed or her brain would become infected. Once again, my beloved wife who had suffered so much was suffering. Her life was once again on the line.

Now, we are in July 2025, almost 18 months after the stroke, and Keri is hoisted daily with a mechanical hoist by two carers who visit four times each day. Because of this, she cannot visit the toilet to wee, and has to wear adult nappies. She did spend the first year on a catheter, until the consultants this spring questioned this - a year on a catheter is too long, so they took it out. I agree with them, it's a better quality of life for Keri.

But where we are now, is we are in limbo. We are facing another long wait for a second cranioplasty, and in that time Keri is in nappies, and cannot learn to walk again. I was having a private physiotherapist coming once per week to help with the manipulation of her limbs, but the council disapproved of this, I'm not sure why.

What we desperately need for Keri is a cranioplasty, as soon as possible, so that she can start proper physiotherapy and walk again, use her hand again, use the toilet and be dignified again. We need this as quickly as possible because without physiotherapy she is slowly losing what strength she does have.

What about the funds from the police? Unfortunately the care package (the carers) as prescribed upon discharge is expensive, and when Keri was discharged, the council looked at our finances and said that we had to use that compensation to pay for them, and now the money is gone.

I have had some quotes, and a cranioplasty for Keri is in the region of £30,000. Private physiotherapy after that is thousands more, but if we could just get the surgery, she'd be on her way.

She is a wonderful woman, who has never deserved any of this sadness, not from the suffering at the hands of her monster father, from the age of just two years of age, and not from this dreadful twist of fate, just when she thought she had justice at last.

Thank you for reading our story, and thank you if you choose to help.