My Grandad got Polio when he was 12. He was in the isolation and rehabilitation unit for a whole year, and his parents did not visit him once, because they were deeply ashamed that he was a "cripple" (his right leg and foot withered and stayed the same size as a 12 yr old's). More than one nurse told him they wouldn't visit a cripple either and called him a poof, etc., when he cried when they didn't come to see him at Xmas. Doctors also told him to not expect 'normal people' to associate with him, that he'd never get a job, marry, or have children, and that he needed to consider the feelings of others who might be disgusted or alarmed by the sight of him. They were fucking wrong.
My Gran, his wife, lost a toddler in 1946, just before the NHS set up. She couldn't afford to pay to see someone urgently, and, despite him clearly being very ill, no-one would see him. He died in her arms as she ran, in her slippers in the snow, to a doctor who she had been told would see sick children for free. He would've died anyway, possibly even have died today, as it was the worst type of meningitis, but I can't imagine how doctors could refuse to see a dying child just because of money. I am passionately pro-NHS for many reasons, but this especially.
On a personal note, I remember not being allowed to see my parents when I had an operation when I was 3, and I don't remember being separated from my Mum for a fortnight after she had a terrible time giving birth to my brother, when I was nearly 4, and they wouldn't let children into the convalescent home, because it is a black hole in my memory. I actually remember people asking me, what did you do when Mummy was getting better, just days after she returned home, but also remember being scared that I couldn't recall a thing and denied that she had been away. Ishoos-aplenty over that.