Lying on the hospital bed, I felt the doctor press my stomach.
‘Does it hurt?’ he asked kindly.
I hesitated. Then I saw Mum’s face twist with anger behind his back, and I remembered her stern instructions commanding me to lie. There was no stomach pain, but all I could do was nod.
At just three years old, I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. If I didn’t, Mum’s anger would reach boiling point and she’d take it out on me.
I’d been prodded and poked by doctors
