It wasn’t until my 30s that I fell properly in love. Andrea was intelligent, beautiful, warmhearted, occasionally ridiculous. Every day with her was better than any before. We progressed from dating to engaged to married. Our first son, Edward, was born. Then, last September, after two painful miscarriages, his brother Alexander followed. And then, in July, it ended.
Ever since Alexander arrived, Andrea had been sluggish and dehydrated. We didn’t think anything of it. We had a new baby, that was what happened.
In February, however, Andrea developed shingles. A doctor thought there was something odd about her face, so ordered some tests. They showed that her liver readings were abnormally high – unusual for someone who was practically teetotal.
She was soon suspected to have – and later diagnosed…