Defenceless against the ravages of whooping cough . . .

in late 1985. In the autumn of 1989, it returned again.

Hand in hand with the disease came the debate. To immunise or not? Can

the whooping cough vaccine cause brain damage? The Scottish Association

for Parents of Vaccine Damaged Children has its point of view. The

medical profession, by and large, has its. Arguments have proceeded from

the public domain to the courts.

In this household there was no issue. The two boys were vaccinated. We

had never witnessed the disease and, I suspect like most people, were

thus only dimly aware of the potential havoc it can wreak upon a young

body. Still, it did seem to us silly not to have them immunised when

none of the arguments against the vaccine appeared iron-clad.

Catherine was the exception. She was born disabled. Her condition --

spina bifida -- had left her paralysed from the waist down.

Additionally, when she was a couple of weeks old, it was confirmed that

she had hydrocephalus.

This meant a further operation to implant in her brain what is in

effect a sophisticated drainage system to allow trapped cerebro-spinal

fluid to escape.

All of that's another story. However, it resulted in the family GP

saying no way when it came time for whooping cough vaccination. There

was no choice. And in December of 1989, during the Christmas holidays,

Catherine, who is now nine, was hit by the disease.

Not that we knew it at the time. She had suddenly turned weepy, which

we attributed to the variety of infections that plague her life. And

there was a hard, dry cough that we associated with the climate.

It persisted for weeks. Cough bottles were ineffectual. Abruptly, on

January 12, there was a change in her condition and, more on instinct

than evidence, we kept her off school.

The following morning, Catherine was dramatically ill. She started

vomiting. Whatever it was that she was throwing up, it was not the

contents of her stomach. The emissions were a dreadful-looking mixture

of bubbling froth and mucus -- a thick, yellowy-green substance.

And, that morning, we heard the first ''whoop''. It's not an entirely

descriptive word. The sound is an arching, high-decibel gasp -- try to

imagine a scream by inhalation rather than exhalation -- suffused with

the agony of young lungs attempting desperately to haul in air. The face

goes purple, the eyes bulge, the head pours with sweat and looks as

though it's going to burst.

Bluntly, the sight and sound scared the hell out of us. Apart from

which, we were extremely worried about the effects of the strain and

pressure on the delicate valve mechanism inside Catherine's head.

Catherine herself was patently terrified.

She was immediately put on a course of antibiotics by the doctor.

Within 24 hours she was racked by the disease.

Attacks came as frequently as every 15 minutes. Such was their

intensity that blood vessels in Catherine's nose ruptured. As well as

gulping desperately for air, retching and whooping, Catherine had to

contend with blood streaming from her nostrils in the middle of it all.

On top of the individual symptoms, each spasm provoked a panic attack

during which Catherine held on to one of us like a vice. She could not

be left alone.

Then she had crippling stomach pains and started vomiting blood --

which, the doctor speculated, might have been caused by an allergic

reaction to the antibiotic, from which Catherine was promptly removed.

Over the next 18 nights, Catherine had one night's unbroken sleep. She

had no appetite and wouldn't look at food. It took the utmost persuasion

to make her sip fluids. And all the while, dozens of times per day,

there were the paroxysms, never easing in their severity.

Before the end of the third week, Catherine was completely

debilitated. Despite her disability, she is physically strong and

resilient. At present, she cannot raise her body by her arms -- a kind

of press-up, and her only means of independent mobility. At the end of

it all, she will have to regain that strength. It is easy now to

appreciate the damaging and fatal effects the disease can have on very

young children.

Whooping cough has devastated Catherine to a level way beyond that of

any of the major operations she has had to undergo, or the cumulatively

weakening urinary infections to which she is prone.

She has developed a severe chest infection. Pneumonia was suspected.

X-rays were taken. Another antibiotic was prescribed. A week later,

after Catherine had a major relapse, the doctor was back and the

antibiotic was changed yet again. The ominous note was now sounded for

the first time that if there is no perceptible improvement, Catherine

might have to be committed to Ruchill Hospital.

The disease marches on relentlessly. We have given up trying to

identify patterns and stages. Catherine, meanwhile, has laid siege to

her body. She is now exercising massive physical control, attempting to

suppress the cough -- which causes such a build-up that when it does

erupt it is with a volcanic ferocity.

The other night, after a vomiting attack and a juddering series of

paroxysms that left her trembling floppily in my arms, she lay on her

bed and wept with a childhood equivalent of depression. She now knows,

as we do, that no-one can tell her how long it will take for the disease

to run its course. She also knows that even on a good day, when the

spasms do break out, they are as severe and distressing as ever.

I haven't mentioned the disruptive effects of this on domestic life.

They seem irrelevant. And I don't intend to formulate any ethical

polemic from Catherine's experience. The decision -- whether or not to

vaccinate -- will remain the dilemma and free choice of every family.

But I do think that the ravaging nature of the disease is perhaps not

fully appreciated unless it has been experienced or witnessed at close

quarters.

I'm not saying that we tend to dismiss it or take it for granted --

like measles or 'flu -- but the words of Dr James Gray, a consultant in

communicable diseases at the City Hospital in Edinburgh, do ring in this

parent's ears with an urgent significance.

''Whooping cough is a preventable disease,'' said Dr Gray in the

Herald last October. ''One problem is that as more children are

vaccinated fewer parents encounter a case of it, and so don't know what

it's like.''