SWANK Incident Report
I Went to Hospital for Help. I Was Met with Surveillance, Accusation, and a Police Visit.
Filed: 4 January 2024
Labels: Medical Retaliation, Safeguarding Theatre, Police Overreach, Chronic Illness Disbelief, Institutionalised Racism, Motherhood Under Surveillance
♕ WELCOME TO SWANK
An Archive of ✦ Elegance, ✦ Complaint, ✦ and Unapologetic Standards
from a Mother Harassed by the State in Two Countries for Over a Decade.
✦ The Scene
2 January 2024, 8:00 PM —
I took myself to St. Thomas’ Hospital with my daughter Honor, experiencing severe breathing difficulty, dizziness, weight loss, and physical exhaustion.
We entered what can only be described as a dehumanising waiting area—rows of collapsed bodies in plastic chairs, barely distinguishable from each other.
I was ignored, questioned, and passed back and forth between waiting and registration, while barely able to sit upright. Honor was quiet. I was civil.
I stepped on someone’s foot by accident in the crush of chairs. Minutes later, I was verbally attacked—
by a stranger
—while struggling to breathe.
The hospital’s response?
Question me. Not treat me.
✦ The Turning Point
After the verbal assault, I was escorted to another room.
I was not treated.
I was not offered medical relief.
Instead, I was interrogated about my parenting.
I explained repeatedly:
“Please focus on treating me—I cannot breathe.”
They refused.
They told me I could not be treated while my daughter was with me—
a lie, easily disproven by a decade of ER visits across three nations.
I left the hospital.
I did nothing illegal.
I returned to my hotel with Honor, exhausted.
Minutes later—
the police arrived at my door.
✦ The Police Visit
The same officers from the hospital.
Nine in total.
They entered my hotel room at 4am, standing there while my children watched The Barbie Movie.
I had not yelled.
I had not been arrested.
But they were there.
Because the hospital, having denied me care, now attempted to paint me as the abuser.
I was crying, visibly ill.
“No one cares when I’m sick,” I said aloud.
They documented that instead of the nebuliser I never received.
The police told me later:
“I have no concerns about your children.”
But by then, the damage had already been done.
✦ The Broader Pattern
This wasn’t just a misunderstanding.
It was a coordinated ritual of institutional betrayal.
❝ You cannot ask a woman who cannot breathe to defend herself mid-asthma attack. ❞
St Thomas hospital had done this before.
The police followed without evidence.
Social workers hovered without support.
No one treated the asthma.
Everyone treated the mother.
✦ Final Word
I am disabled, but I am not disempowered.
I set boundaries.
I homeschool my children.
I document everything.
I am not here to convince anyone—I’m here to record what happened.
The next day, 3 January, I was finally treated—at Chelsea & Westminster.
They gave me a nebuliser.
Diagnosed me with COVID.
Prescribed prednisone.
Everything I had said was real.
You just didn’t want to believe me until someone else did.
Filed under: Institutional Misdiagnosis, Medical Neglect, Police as Enforcers of Narrative, Disability Erasure, Maternal Surveillance, Racism Reversed, Documentation as Resistance