What will happen if I say ‘Hospice?’ I wondered. Will she find an excuse? Will she be shocked? Will she dismiss me? Will all her denial come crashing down around her? How on earth do I play this?
‘Well, congratulations on your wedding,’ I began. ‘It seems like a lot has happened to both of us since we last met. You’ve got married, and I’ve changed careers …’
‘Aren’t you a doctor any more?’ she asked, surprised.
‘I’m a different sort of doctor now. Good old Professor Lewis is still trying to find the cure, and I hope he does, but in the meantime I’m trying to get to grips with tricky symptoms like headaches and nausea and breathlessness. Things that make people feel unwell.’
‘Well, I have ALL those symptoms!’ she almost squealed – perhaps disinhibited by her steroids, or by nervousness as I brushed too close to her own problems.
‘Then maybe I’m the right doctor for you just now,’ I said. Andy’s head nodded gently in agreement behind her; the ward doctor dashed away to answer his pager.
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