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William McKeown

I’m William McKeown, I’m 34 and live in Bangor, Northern Ireland. I have severe haemophilia A. Changing my mindset and connecting with patient communities has transformed both my mental and physical health, helping me build healthy habits I can sustain for life.

My background
I work as a doctor specialising in Care of the Elderly and Stroke Medicine at Antrim Hospital. My patients include people who have had strokes caused by bleeding or blood clots, and older people living with conditions such as dementia, frailty, and poor mobility. My approach to caring for others is shaped by my own experience of living with a chronic condition. For the past eight years, I’ve been a member of Haemophilia NI, and it’s been a privilege to meet so many inspiring people with bleeding disorders living in our wee province.

Childhood
I was diagnosed with severe haemophilia A as a baby after my parents noticed I was bruising a lot for no obvious reason. We had no family history so the diagnosis was a shock for my parents, especially at a time when the horrors of contaminate blood were starting to become apparent. Back then, prophylaxis wasn’t available, so every fall meant a trip to the hospital for an injection. At this time, children with haemophilia were always treated on the general haematology ward. Something I never questioned was that I was often the only child with hair, because most of the other children sadly were there receiving chemotherapy for conditions like leukaemia. Things improved when I started prophylaxis at around age six, but I didn’t learn to self-infuse until I was 13. That really limited my independence — I avoided school trips unless my parents could come to treat me. That’s why I believe it’s essential for young people with severe bleeding disorders to learn self-infusion as early as possible.

At primary school, my teachers meant well but didn’t really understand haemophilia. They were often overprotective — I even had a special assistant follow me to the playground. I hated feeling different and constantly watched, rather than just being treated like any other child. Thankfully, schools now tend to be much better informed.

Building my physical and mental health
As a child, I was overweight and avoided sport. It wasn’t until my early twenties, when I got involved with the patient community, that my thinking changed. I realised if I didn’t get active, I’d be storing up joint problems for the future. I started with low-impact activities like the cross-trainer and weight machines, then built up to more challenging exercises and free weights. I lost the excess weight — and have kept it off.

The key for me was learning to enjoy being active. It’s not “I have to exercise” — it’s “I need to learn to love exercise and find what works for me.” Now I run, cycle, sail, and hike, and I get far fewer bleeds. Exercise has become “me-time” — a chance to recharge and clear my head. I even schedule it into my calendar alongside rest and relaxation.

I’ve learned that making healthy habits enjoyable — whether that’s exercise or eating well — makes them far easier to maintain. And I can’t overstate the value of patient communities. Until I was 22, I didn’t know anyone else with a bleeding disorder. Meeting people who truly understood what I was going through was life-changing. I’d encourage anyone with a rare bleeding disorder to connect with other people going through the same thing and join Haemophilia NI  — it’s one of the most powerful steps you can take.

Life & Legacy

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At Haemophilia NI, we believe that every story matters. Life & Legacy is a space to honour the voices of those living with bleeding disorders and to remember the lives of those we’ve lost. Through their experiences, we celebrate resilience, community, and the strength that carries us forward together.

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Nigel Hamilton

My Story

As a Mild to Moderate Haemophilia A patient from birth, my experience in the 70’s was one of accepting the necessary treatment and watching my joints and muscles. Growing up I became interested in sport, in particular rowing, which gave me an opportunity as I saw it to focus on making sure I was fit, healthy and growing strong, to offset any health or bleeding issues I might encounter in my youth and young adulthood. I was ‘sensible’ in my opinion in managing myself and apart from some serious leg muscle and knee joint bleeds I was managing myself well. Then I was faced with the opportunity to resolve a squint from an injury to my left eye. I was 16, wanting to be accepted and ‘normal’, I went ahead with the procedure, and having gone well, I found my eye correction had been extremely successful. I thought I had nothing to fear nor hold me back to achieving my goals and lifestyle.

 

In the 80’s we experienced the scourge of a ‘new’ deadly virus spreading among vulnerable groups, the HIV threat felt by many of us a Russian Roulette. I carried on with my life HIV free but regularly tested because of my reliance on Human Factor products.  It wasn’t until an extended period of poor health that I realised in early 1989 that HCV was a dangerous virus which our Factor product had infected us with and was designated Non-A/Non-B Hepatitis to become Hepatitis C. Active in my system since 1976, I was suffering serious Liver scaring, developing in 2008 into Cirrhosis and acute Liver disease. Now I felt under the cosh with regular bouts of lethargy and energy deficit, head cloudiness. After 4 courses of Interferon and Ribavirin which stalled the virus until the treatment was complete and set off again I realised that my health was in serious decline, and my mortality was now seriously in question this time the ‘Russian Roulette’ was cancer an affliction which took hold in 2017 some 2 years after I had been placed on the Liver transplant list. My transplant took place in February 2018 and was a success. The political process in Westminster was also gathering momentum and appeared to have teeth unlike in 2001 when the Archer Report, led by a Private Member of Parliament raised considerable attention but was not recognised by the Government of the time. At this stage I was a UK Haemophilia Society Trustee and working on the Sub-Committee and understanding the limitation the lack of Government endorsement meant in real terms.

 

I became an active HNI lobbyist promoting Infected Blood as an issue to the Assembly Health Committee and Parliamentarians in Westminster, it wasn’t until Simon my twin passed away that I took on the Chairmanship of HNI and became a leader in our campaign for justice, recognition, and compensation. The Infected Blood Inquiry took 6 years to reach its conclusion and as a Core Witness as is our Society, I found my role integral in that achievement, key in the Second Report published in July 2025 and helping with reps from the sister Charities and lobby organisations dealing regularly with Cabinet office and the IBCA on behalf of pour Community. Easy to say these issues drive me as I seek conclusions for all victims both infected and affected. I have been one of the lucky ones, with my new liver and lease of life my focus was to achieve our goals, ensure this never happened again and provide information to equip the next generation of sufferers with the informed choices to live full healthy lives.

 

I am currently volunteering for the IBCA to ensure that the media campaign gives victims of the infected blood disaster the opportunity to close the chapter and achieve justice recognition and compensation, equitable to their experience.

Notebook and Fountain Pen

Emmett McLaughlin

My Story

My name is Emmet, and I am a Severe Haemophiliac from Derry.

As someone born in the early 1990s, I was fortunate to be one of the first to grow up with on-demand factor treatment and prophylaxis.

 

I have also been lucky to have an attentive treatment centre over the years. One of the things I value most is that they treat my Haemophilia rather than just a general condition. The medical staff, from the doctors, nurses, physio staff and all the support staff are people I can always rely on for support, and I can feel their pride when I reach my own milestones.

 

I was diagnosed as a baby, which wasn’t a shock as there is a history in my family. Growing up with Haemophilia hasn’t been without its challenges. A full week of attendance at school was a big achievement. The wear and tear of bleeds as an adult can still be difficult. With Haemophilia, recovery and acceptance are rarely linear. I often think of those who came before me, the generations who endured the contaminated blood scandal and lived without effective treatment. It’s important to me to live my life to the fullest for those who couldn’t.

 

For me, Haemophilia provides perspective. Being able to do simple things after a bleed like go for a walk that once felt impossible becomes a chance for gratitude. In young adulthood, I was lucky enough to travel the world to attend bleeding disorder conferences, which gave me skills I believe helped me get a career, and make some friends for life. Meeting others, especially those without regular access to treatment, opened my eyes to just how fortunate I am to have medication on demand and a committed healthcare team.

 

Since 2023 I’ve been taking Haemlibra injections, which have been a great improvement. I remember older relatives who always had mobility difficulties, and I see how far treatment has come. While medication doesn’t repair joint damage, I look at the young people starting on these new therapies and feel hopeful they won’t face the same challenges. It makes me feel like what I’ve gone through has contributed to a greater goal.

 

If I had one piece of advice for other Haemophiliacs, it would be to put your own care first. This could mean staying active in ways that work for you, listen to your body when it needs rest, and always make space for things that bring you joy.

 

Today, I’m fortunate enough to be married, a parent, and in full-time employment. My focus is on being as healthy as possible for my family. As a father, I often reflect on my own parents, juggling work while making sure I got treatment and lived as normal a life as possible, including dropping everything for three-hour round journeys to the treatment centre during bleeds, or even the risk of one.

 

When I think of the Haemophiliacs I’ve been lucky enough to meet through the years, I’m struck by their resilience. They are among the strongest, optimistic, and compassionate people I know. I feel proud, and lucky, to be part of such a community.

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