ON THAT day in February 1994 Mary listened to the newscaster speak about the contamination of anti-D with hepatitis C. Immediately she knew that she was one of those women.
From that day on her quest for the truth has been relentless. She must surely rank among those most knowledgeable about hepatitis C in Ireland, if not in the world. The documents relating to her High Court case would apparently fill a room, and Mary is familiar with the detail of each and every one of them.
On the steps of the High Court earlier this week Mary settled her damages case, only minutes before it was due to be heard. That settlement included a confidentiality clause, which Mary is honouring, albeit reluctantly. Sources, however, indicate that the award was close to Pounds 600,000.
It is a large amount of money - but at what price? As we sit in the front room of her Carlow home on Thursday night as Mary (41) tells her story it becomes clear that money is only important in that the amount is indicative of the wrong done and that it will provide peace of mind for a very uncertain future.
For more than two years Mary has spent her time getting up the noses of so many people in her quest for the truth - BTSB employees, politicians, doctors, solicitors, the Garda Commissioner - that you begin to lose count after a while.
As she speaks her husband Pat sits in the next chair, nodding his head as she recounts the telephone calls and the letters written late at night to politicians when she couldn't sleep and was shaking with rage at what had happened to her.
"I would be writing furiously and then I'd get a dig in the side from Pat telling me to stop because I would disgrace the family," said Mary. "I almost always sealed the envelope because I knew if I reread it the next morning it would not be sent." In her own words, she became "a rebel".
Telephone bills of more than Pounds 300 were commonplace as Mary began a campaign to find out more about why she was infected, what hepatitis C was, and how she could get the best medical treatment.
The couple had a telephone installed recently, but in the beginning Mary spent much of her time in a call box. A network of other infected women was built up. Mary had already spoken to a number of the medical experts who appeared at the tribunal, including those from abroad.
According to Pat, who makes cane furniture, his wife could spend until 4 a.m. on the telephone, often having "vigorous" arguments with her solicitor, Raymond Bradley.
"Words can hardly describe how good Raymond has been," she says. "I often fought with him but we always got on with it. He always ,looked out for my best interests.
On Tuesday morning Raymond could be seen in the High Court with sweat on his brow as Mary kept him waiting right up to the final minutes to see if she would sign the settlement agreement. Mary had taken her case against the BTSB, the Minister for Health, the Attorney General and the National Drugs Advisory Board.
"Sure the money was there but I didn't want to feel I was selling out. I was particularly upset by the confidentiality clause. That was only put in at the last minute. I resented it because they did not allow me to keep my name private when I was going through the courts.
"I also want to point out that my award was not for my health care but for damages and loss of earnings. It is what I deserve. I knew that the apology was on offer for some time.
The day after the court case Mary said she felt a little like a "prisoner in her own home" following all the publicity. She finally went out to the shop that night, but not her usual one, and felt very self- conscious. On Friday she travelled home to Tipperary to attend the funeral of her 95-year-old grandmother.
Now her most immediate plan is to is concentrate on booking a holiday for the family. The children are pushing for Euro Disney.
She does not really like to think about the money or that it will in any way change life for the family. Her eight children - Michael (21), Laurence (19), Mark (18), Colette (13), Elaine (11), Denis (10), Julianna (6), Padraig (4) - are aware to varying degrees of her illness, its implications and the court case.
On Thursday evening Denis came in and said one of his friends wanted to know if she had been given Pounds 50 or Pounds 100, to which she replied that she did not yet know.
"I have to think about the future and the uncertainty that holds. I remember the day that Brigid McCole died. I felt really low, particularly when I saw her daughters and thought that they could be mine. There were tears running down my face as I stood in the kitchen.
"When my eldest were younger I used to wish they would stay that way. Now I am hoping that the others will grow up quickly so that I will be there for them. I try not to think about it but late at night it does creep into my mind.
"Niamh Cosgrave, who is in the same situation, has been fabulous and helped me in so many ways. In the past few years I busied myself so much but now that is over. I am going to have to find something else to occupy my time with."
Mary was infected with hepatitis C for almost 20 years before she realised it and, like so many other women, had numerous trips to her GP and often wondered if it was just something in her mind. Fatigue was the worst problem.
She knew the minute she heard about the infection on the radio that she was one of those women. In fact, she now knows that she was infected in 1977 and again in the early 1990s. This co-infection means that she has a very large amount of virus in her blood.
So much has been heard about hepatitis C in this country, particularly during the tribunal, that it seems as if there could hardly be any more surprises when discussing the events surrounding the hepatitis C controversy. But Mary has almost as many stories as there are people infected.
Pat explains what he thinks made Mary carry on with her fight. "It was bad news from the start and each test result or result after treatment would be bad. Mary would really withdraw into herself or get irritable with the children. The case kept her fighting."
She tells of her initial attempts to contact the BTSB helpline after she heard about the contamination. It took days of standing in a public telephone box before she got through. When the first test was returned positive she had to wait two months for the further PCR test which confirmed it.
Her painful story of meeting BTSB officials is all too familiar. "I went to meet them in Kilkenny because I really wanted to meet other women. But when I got there I saw no sign of anyone else. That seemed to be the policy the whole way through. Even though we were getting treated as public patients, you never saw people in a waiting room being seen so fast. We never got a chance to communicate."
That first day in Kilkenny she left the "interview" crying as a result of the questioning and attitude.
From then until as recently as this week her battle with the blood bank continued.
The times that stick out in her mind include having to take the BTSB to court to get her medical records released three years ago when she decided to get treatment in London under Dr Geoffrey Dusheiko; the numerous telephone calls to get them to agree to test her children and Pat; the unseemly wrangling over who would pay for a blood test that Dr Dusheiko wanted performed.
"The BTSB should have done it in the first place. Because they were the only ones that could do it, I had to go there and first of all they refused to carry it out and then were insistent that I pay for it."
Under Dr Dusheiko's care she has been on therapy to reduce her viral load. It has not been as successful as she hoped but it has halted some of the liver damage. He is optimistic about other treatments that will be available shortly.
At present she goes to her GP three times a week for injections. The side-effects mean that she wakes up the following morning feeling as if she has a major hangover and finds it difficult to get out of bed. It is expected that she will need a liver transplant in about five years' time.
Her faith in the Irish medical establishment, apart from consultant gastroenterologist Dr Gary Courtney, is shaky to say the least.
In fact, Mary's faith in many things has been rocked in the past few years - not least politicians - and she takes very little on trust. She is certainly cynical about pledges made during election campaigns.
"I sent my entire family out in the rain to vote for Fianna Fail. I had great faith. During the election I had no problem getting calls returned, but after that things changed and Brian Cowen was not quite so quick to return my calls. There was a cooling off. I cried when I thought of what an idiot I had been. The confidentiality clause was only introduced at the last minute. Not a lot has changed."