CHEERFUL NORMA SO GLAD THAT SHE CAN SEE THE GRASS GROW
Cheerful Norma 'so glad that she can see the grass grow'
AN amazingly cheerful Norma White uses just six words, describing one of life's simple pleasures that most take for granted, to explain how fortunate she believed she was to escape with her life from last year's town centre bombing atrocity.
But, for her, they are filled with twin emotions: "I can see the grass grow," says the 27-year-old, robbed of the sight of her left eye in the carnage wreaked by the Real IRA car bomb in Market Street.
She relays details of how surgeons told her she was very lucky not to have been blinded, after being struck by a missile, probably travelling at more than 100 mph, which stopped just 3mm short of her right eye. But it blasted apart the major bone structure on the left side of her face.
"Pieces of shrapnel tore into my face, and destroyed many of the bones on the left side, and under my nose. Most of the bones, and bone residue, had to be removed completely," said Norma.
That, in turn, provided a major challenge for Mr. Simon Rankin and his team at Belfast's Royal Victoria Hospital, as they strove to reconstruct her face, with a series of metal plates. And, even now, 12 months later, the mother of nine-year-old Elaine, faces a further period of hospitalisation.
"I expect to go into hospital soon for about a week for more surgery. But, once my period of recuperation after that is complete, I hope doctors will give me a reasonably quick go-ahead to get back to work," said the determined young woman, whose smile has graced the counters of the Carlton Bakery and Coffee Shop at High Street for more than 10 years.
"Others who were hurt have returned to work in the interval since the bombing, and I know how much getting back into the old routine has helped them. I am looking forward to the day I am told I can go back, too."
Along with more than 20 other staff and patrons. Norma was evacuated from the Carlton early in the afternoon of August 15, 1998. She says she was standing in the centre of the road between Libbi's and The Salad Bowl with as many as seven friends and work colleagues when the car bomb a few yards away was detonated.
But she remembers nothing further until awakening in a Tyrone County Hospital bed later that evening, and being asked by a nurse if she could hear her.
'Blacked out'
"I could, but I was unable to answer. The nurse then said, 'she can't hear me', and I thought, 'I can hear you', and I wondered why I had not responded," recalled Norma, who immediately 'blacked out' for approximately another 24 hours.
When she next came to, she was a patient in the Royal, and had already been operated on for the first time.
Norma's injuries almost all on her left side, and the most serious obviously to her face required her attendance in theatre for almost seven hours on that Sunday, she later learned.
"My husband, Ivor, was told by a nurse at about 4.30 in the afternoon that I had lost my left eye. Mr. Rankin broke the news to me the next morning, in the most kind and diplomatic way imaginable," she explained.
"I will always be grateful for the way the medical people treated me at that time, and for the manner in which they gave me the news. There was never any suggestion that 1 was only a number or that they were only doing their job.
"Mr. Rankin sat close to me on the bed, at my right side, where I could not suspect the worse. Of course, he told me of the lesser injuries first, and it was only when I asked him if that was all, that he said, 'no'.
"He was brilliant, explaining what had happened, but emphasising all the positive aspects of the rest of my life, which had, after all, been spared, and what I would be able to do and achieve. Not for one moment did he let me feel sorry for myself."
While his wife was in hospital, Ivor, the manager of White's of Bridge Street, lived with relatives in Belfast, and spent up to 16 hours daily at Norma's bedside, as she grew strong enough to return home.
Finally they did go home, on August 27, after skin grafts, which it had been thought might be necessary, were not required. Wounds to Norma's left arm and both legs closed sufficiently to be 'tidied up with sutures'.
"But I did have other operations, on my jaw, nose and left ear. In fact, I was, for a time, totally deaf in that ear, and I had to go back into theatre for those stitches," she recollected
Looking back now, Norma is still not certain whether it was trouble with her ear, rather than the loss of her eye, which may have accounted for how quickly she became dizzy or disorientated when she took her first steps unaided.
'Confidence'
"At first Iwas only allowed to cross the floor of the ward to the toilet, and that was enough to make me dizzy. Although the sensation faded gradually, it was not until after Christmas that my old confidence returned. However, I always had to have somebody with me when going up or down stairs," she disclosed.
"In the beginning I felt genuinely handicapped, very strange. I walked into doors, and I still walk into people in the street, and continue to have difficulty gauging the depths of stairs and steps. But there has been a constant improvement," Norma confirmed.
"Doors can be left partly open now, probably because I have learned in the past 10 months to be more careful, and to watch my every move. And I have come through the special eye test necessary to retain my driving licence, although I have not yet had the confidence to get back behind the wheel," she smiled.
Following three home counselling sessions, Norma, a native of Dromore, said she also believed she was over the worst of the mental anguish occasioned by the bombing, and the loss of her left eye, which had been cosmetically replaced.
"Of course, I cried about my condition at first, but now I am so thankful that I have my arms and legs, and that I can see the grass grow," she asserted.
'Morale-booster'
"Meeting Prince Charles at the Grange and President Clinton at Omagh Leisure Complex, and receiving so many cards and bunches of flowers from my regular customers and many other well-wishers, were terrific morale boosters.
"Prince Charles was very interested and concerned, and listened attentively when I spoke to him, and Mr. Clinton turned and gave me the thumbs-up sign as he left. I appreciated all of that, and the flowers and more than 170 cards, some signed 'the white with no sugar', and 'don't burn the toast'.
"When I reflect on the immediate aftermath of the bomb now, I have so much to be thankful for all of those who thought of me, and especially the doctors, the surgeons and other medical and hospital staff at both Tyrone County and the Royal. I cannot pay them a high enough compliment, but I was extremely well cared for by everyone. They are great people."
What of the future?
"I think it is right the first anniversary of the bombing should be commemorated this weekend. The bereaved will want to be able to pay their respects in some tangible way, but we will mark it privately," said Norma.
"It is also proper that some 'gentle' reminder of the events of August 15, 1998 be put in place at the scene, but not something that would constantly and instantly draw attention to the events of that dreadful day.
"Otherwise, I only want to look forward, and leave the past behind, move on, and be positive about the future."
And there can be no doubt about the conviction with which it is said, or of Norma's intention to get on with her life. For this is the young woman who made her husband take her directly to the scene of such' recent devastation immediately on her discharge from the Royal Victoria Hospital, 12 days after the bombing.
"I still have an eerie feeling when I am in the vicinity, and it was not until last month that I walked alone through the street where I had been standing, but I made Ivor take me to inspect the site on our way home from hospital. I had to go there. I knew I had to get it over and done with."
AN amazingly cheerful Norma White uses just six words, describing one of life's simple pleasures that most take for granted, to explain how fortunate she believed she was to escape with her life from last year's town centre bombing atrocity.
But, for her, they are filled with twin emotions: "I can see the grass grow," says the 27-year-old, robbed of the sight of her left eye in the carnage wreaked by the Real IRA car bomb in Market Street.
She relays details of how surgeons told her she was very lucky not to have been blinded, after being struck by a missile, probably travelling at more than 100 mph, which stopped just 3mm short of her right eye. But it blasted apart the major bone structure on the left side of her face.
"Pieces of shrapnel tore into my face, and destroyed many of the bones on the left side, and under my nose. Most of the bones, and bone residue, had to be removed completely," said Norma.
That, in turn, provided a major challenge for Mr. Simon Rankin and his team at Belfast's Royal Victoria Hospital, as they strove to reconstruct her face, with a series of metal plates. And, even now, 12 months later, the mother of nine-year-old Elaine, faces a further period of hospitalisation.
"I expect to go into hospital soon for about a week for more surgery. But, once my period of recuperation after that is complete, I hope doctors will give me a reasonably quick go-ahead to get back to work," said the determined young woman, whose smile has graced the counters of the Carlton Bakery and Coffee Shop at High Street for more than 10 years.
"Others who were hurt have returned to work in the interval since the bombing, and I know how much getting back into the old routine has helped them. I am looking forward to the day I am told I can go back, too."
Along with more than 20 other staff and patrons. Norma was evacuated from the Carlton early in the afternoon of August 15, 1998. She says she was standing in the centre of the road between Libbi's and The Salad Bowl with as many as seven friends and work colleagues when the car bomb a few yards away was detonated.
But she remembers nothing further until awakening in a Tyrone County Hospital bed later that evening, and being asked by a nurse if she could hear her.
'Blacked out'
"I could, but I was unable to answer. The nurse then said, 'she can't hear me', and I thought, 'I can hear you', and I wondered why I had not responded," recalled Norma, who immediately 'blacked out' for approximately another 24 hours.
When she next came to, she was a patient in the Royal, and had already been operated on for the first time.
Norma's injuries almost all on her left side, and the most serious obviously to her face required her attendance in theatre for almost seven hours on that Sunday, she later learned.
"My husband, Ivor, was told by a nurse at about 4.30 in the afternoon that I had lost my left eye. Mr. Rankin broke the news to me the next morning, in the most kind and diplomatic way imaginable," she explained.
"I will always be grateful for the way the medical people treated me at that time, and for the manner in which they gave me the news. There was never any suggestion that 1 was only a number or that they were only doing their job.
"Mr. Rankin sat close to me on the bed, at my right side, where I could not suspect the worse. Of course, he told me of the lesser injuries first, and it was only when I asked him if that was all, that he said, 'no'.
"He was brilliant, explaining what had happened, but emphasising all the positive aspects of the rest of my life, which had, after all, been spared, and what I would be able to do and achieve. Not for one moment did he let me feel sorry for myself."
While his wife was in hospital, Ivor, the manager of White's of Bridge Street, lived with relatives in Belfast, and spent up to 16 hours daily at Norma's bedside, as she grew strong enough to return home.
Finally they did go home, on August 27, after skin grafts, which it had been thought might be necessary, were not required. Wounds to Norma's left arm and both legs closed sufficiently to be 'tidied up with sutures'.
"But I did have other operations, on my jaw, nose and left ear. In fact, I was, for a time, totally deaf in that ear, and I had to go back into theatre for those stitches," she recollected
Looking back now, Norma is still not certain whether it was trouble with her ear, rather than the loss of her eye, which may have accounted for how quickly she became dizzy or disorientated when she took her first steps unaided.
'Confidence'
"At first Iwas only allowed to cross the floor of the ward to the toilet, and that was enough to make me dizzy. Although the sensation faded gradually, it was not until after Christmas that my old confidence returned. However, I always had to have somebody with me when going up or down stairs," she disclosed.
"In the beginning I felt genuinely handicapped, very strange. I walked into doors, and I still walk into people in the street, and continue to have difficulty gauging the depths of stairs and steps. But there has been a constant improvement," Norma confirmed.
"Doors can be left partly open now, probably because I have learned in the past 10 months to be more careful, and to watch my every move. And I have come through the special eye test necessary to retain my driving licence, although I have not yet had the confidence to get back behind the wheel," she smiled.
Following three home counselling sessions, Norma, a native of Dromore, said she also believed she was over the worst of the mental anguish occasioned by the bombing, and the loss of her left eye, which had been cosmetically replaced.
"Of course, I cried about my condition at first, but now I am so thankful that I have my arms and legs, and that I can see the grass grow," she asserted.
'Morale-booster'
"Meeting Prince Charles at the Grange and President Clinton at Omagh Leisure Complex, and receiving so many cards and bunches of flowers from my regular customers and many other well-wishers, were terrific morale boosters.
"Prince Charles was very interested and concerned, and listened attentively when I spoke to him, and Mr. Clinton turned and gave me the thumbs-up sign as he left. I appreciated all of that, and the flowers and more than 170 cards, some signed 'the white with no sugar', and 'don't burn the toast'.
"When I reflect on the immediate aftermath of the bomb now, I have so much to be thankful for all of those who thought of me, and especially the doctors, the surgeons and other medical and hospital staff at both Tyrone County and the Royal. I cannot pay them a high enough compliment, but I was extremely well cared for by everyone. They are great people."
What of the future?
"I think it is right the first anniversary of the bombing should be commemorated this weekend. The bereaved will want to be able to pay their respects in some tangible way, but we will mark it privately," said Norma.
"It is also proper that some 'gentle' reminder of the events of August 15, 1998 be put in place at the scene, but not something that would constantly and instantly draw attention to the events of that dreadful day.
"Otherwise, I only want to look forward, and leave the past behind, move on, and be positive about the future."
And there can be no doubt about the conviction with which it is said, or of Norma's intention to get on with her life. For this is the young woman who made her husband take her directly to the scene of such' recent devastation immediately on her discharge from the Royal Victoria Hospital, 12 days after the bombing.
"I still have an eerie feeling when I am in the vicinity, and it was not until last month that I walked alone through the street where I had been standing, but I made Ivor take me to inspect the site on our way home from hospital. I had to go there. I knew I had to get it over and done with."
Further Information
Publisher: TYRONE CONSTITUTION
Ref: TC/0707
Published Date: 12-Aug-99
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