‘What are you doing in my bedroom? Lost the way to yours?’ Mum says, looking around her. She’s been sitting in the lounge with the telly on, barely watching anything.
The doctor now holds up his hand, spreading out his fingers. ‘How many fingers can you see?’ he asks.
‘What’s wrong with you? Have you forgotten I lost my forefinger? I’ll never forgive you for that accident.’
The doctor stands up, looks at me and shakes his head. The diagnosis has been confirmed.