Martyn Luckett

Our youngest son Martyn went to live with his sister in Swindon, whilst we lived in North Devon.  He was 19 years old and one of three children - Nick was the eldest, Charlotte the middle (and only daughter) and Martyn.    The elder two knew exactly what they wanted to do, though Martyn did not know and was different - but he was still my baby!   Martyn had been living with Charlotte for four months.  They got along very well but he decided that he missed his friends back home and wanted to move back.    He had returned from a week's holiday to Swindon, and on the Saturday he and Charlotte did a Fun Run for the neighbours' children's school.

They had a great time - it was a very hot July day and in the evening they went out for a drink as this was to be their last weekend together.

In the morning, Martyn went up to the shops around eleven o'clock and by the time he returned he did not feel too special.  He felt as if he had the flu, but he carried on the day as normal - going for a walk with Charlotte and so on.

I am telling this story as I know it, as I was not there at the time - though we kept in touch regularly as I was a long way away. Being his mum, when I spoke to him on the phone I said, "Why don't you get Charlotte to take you to the A&E because of it being a weekend?".  He said, "No, I'll be fine".

The evening came and he didn't feel much better so he had a sleep.  They did ring the NHS helpline, and later a doctor called back to say that Martyn's dizziness was a concern and that he should see someone in the morning if it had not improved.

My husband John and I went to bed early on the Sunday night as we had had a late night on the Saturday.  We were woken by the phone ringing non-stop.  I ran to answer it - this was about 12.45am in the early hours of the Monday morning. 

It was Charlotte calling to say that Martyn had been taken to hospital, which was a surprise to us.  I panicked, saying "We must get to Swindon!".  John said, "Calm down - we must wait to hear from Charlotte again".

Meanwhile, Charlotte was walking back into the hospital and someone was coming towards her telling her what had happened.  "Shall I call your parents?" they said....so we then received the worst nightmare phone call of all.  Martyn had passed away a few minutes before, after a long battle to save him.

After the shock had set in, John and Nick travelled up to Swindon at high speed to be with Charlotte, who was there on her own.  My good friend Beverly came out to be with me as I was in a state of high shock. 

After arriving in Swindon 3 hours later, John was not able to see his son - as he had already been identified - until after a post mortem had been carried out.

The post mortem failed to come up with anything, so as a family we had to make a big decision. 

The heart had to be sent away for further investigations, so we had to decide whether to put a hold on the funeral until the heart came back; or to donate the heart to research.  We decided that the latter would maybe help others.

We then had to have Martyn brought back home from Swindon and to lay him to rest.  This was the worst day of our lives - this cannot be happening, how can this have happened?

He was really fit - although academically lazy!  He was a keen motorcycle trials rider, representing the South West Centre.  He had only ridden in a motorcycle trial two weeks before he went back to Swindon and he really enjoyed it and was feeling really keen again.

When we held the funeral there were as many as 500 people in attendance.  Martyn was all dressed in his motorcycle trials gear.

After 7 weeks the coroner rang to tell us that the cause of death was myocarditis - an undiagnosed heart condition. 

We did not realise at the time that as many as 8-10 fit and healthy kids were dying every week in the UK of conditions such as this. 

We are among so many other parents, brothers and sisters who have to deal with this terrible killer.  We have two other children, but life will never be the same.