A virus stole my life
As my younger sister Sadie, then 24, rested her head on my shoulder, she sighed deeply. It was a Friday night and we were hanging out together watching our favourite TV show, Love Island – a guilty pleasure of ours. Only two years apart in age, Sadie and I were best friends as well as sisters. Spending time together like this wasn’t unusual, except we’d usually be lounging on a sofa at home, sharing a bottle of wine and planning our next trip abroad. Instead, Sadie was curled up next to me on my hospital bed in Majorca, Spain, and our conversation was one-way – she talked and I listened. Because that was
