I went to hospital to be treated - not sexually assaulted

Born with sickle cell disease, pain is a constant. Every heartbeat feels like a stab, relentless and searing. Some days, I’m completely bedridden. I rely on others for everything: food, medicine, going to the bathroom. I am completely vulnerable.

Because of that vulnerability, trust becomes everything. You have to trust the people around you to care for you and keep you safe. I’ve spent months in hospitals and over time, you get to know the staff. Some become familiar faces, people you chat with to break up the endless hours of treatment.

That’s how it started - with a friendly face.

A cleaner on my ward would visit, talk to me and smile. At first, it felt harmless, even comforting. In a place where I felt powerless, any bit of attention from someone kind was a relief.

One day, everything changed. That so-called kindness turned into something I couldn’t have imagined. I was no longer just a patient, I became a target.

He was 43 and I was 22 at the time. He was married. And yet, he told me I was “so innocent” and “beautiful.” He called me charming and delicate and said he wanted to take me out to dinner. And then one day, everything changed.

I am one of 12,000 people who have reported an allegation of sexual assault in the last five years to the NHS, with a shocking 75 per cent increase over that period, as reported by LBC today.

I was in my room, changing behind the drawn curtains, completely exposed. And then he came in. He didn’t knock. He didn’t leave. I froze as he stood there, looking at me. Before I could even react, he kissed me and touched me. And because my body was already in agony, it hurt even more.

It didn’t stop with that first incident. He assaulted me five more times while I was in hospital, each time leaving me feeling powerless and terrified. I was physically immobile, already in pain from my sickle cellflare-upss and entirely dependent on others for care. Every intrusion shattered my sense of safety. I didn’t tell anyone at first, unsure how to respond and deeply anxious about what might happen if I did.

After I reported the assaults, the staff member was removed from employment, but it took around six months for that to happen. During that period, I encountered him again in another part of the hospital, even though I had been told he would no longer be on my ward. We made eye contact, and I feared he would seek revenge.

After police proceedings fell through, I pursued a civil claim. Initially, the trust denied liability, but I was eventually awarded a £7,000 settlement. While that offered some closure, it could not undo the emotional impact. A psychiatrist later diagnosed me with depression, anxiety, and PTSD as a result of the assault.

Even now, returning to Hammersmith Hospital can bring back that fear. I would urge other sickle cell patients to carefully consider where they receive care and to prioritise places where they feel safe. I would never want anyone else to experience what I went through, no one deserves to suffer the way I did while simply trying to get medical help.

It has been a long, painful journey, but waiving my anonymity to share my story is important - both as a record of what happened and as a reminder of the lasting effects these experiences can have on patients.

No one should have to fear the place they go to heal.

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Charlotte Mensah, age 27, is from London.

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