Page 41 of Charlie Sunshine

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“Is it—” I stop and clear my throat. “Is it bad news?” I finish in a rush. Misha’s hand tightens almost imperceptibly, but then we both relax as she immediately shakes her head.

“We don’t believe so, Charlie. Some of the tests won’t be back for a few weeks, so we can’t be absolutely sure, but we believe that we might have isolated the problem. Now, you say your seizures startedagain in June, and according to our records you picked up a new batch of medication just before that point?”

“As usual, yes.”

She frowns slightly. “Medicines, when they’re first created, are under patent and can’t be produced by anyone other than the owner. After a certain period of time, this patent lapses and other companies are then free to produce the medication. In some cases, the components can differ from the original medicine. Not widely, but enough sometimes to make a difference.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” I ask. Misha sits forward, staring at her intently.

“Your type of epilepsy is one where it’s recommended that you have the original medicine by the original company. Any deviations can cause bad side effects like the seizures reoccurring.”

“And is that what you think has happened?”

She nods. “You should have had a note on your prescription that you were to be given the original medication only. For some reason, the note wasn’t made, and I can only apologise for that. Please know that it’s there now, loud and clear for the pharmacy.”

I swallow hard, feeling slightly dizzy. I might have been holding my breath since I got into this room. “So that’s it?”

She shakes her head. “It’s a first hypothesis, at the moment. We’ll proceed with this theory until the other tests are back in. As such, we’ve put you back on the original branded medication. We’ll start with a slightly higher dose than before, because we’re essentially restarting the treatment, and I want those seizures under control.” She pats my hand. “I’m afraid we’re back to you feeling like an experiment, and I know you don’t like that.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have to have surgery?”

Her eyes sharpen. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned that today, Charlie. Is that what stopped you coming in for your reviews?”

I flush. “I was scared.” Misha throws his arm around me.

“Charlie, you can’t do that,” she says kindly but firmly. “You coped so well before with such a massive change in your life that I forget you’re still fairly new with this condition. If something happens, we need to know about it. This is a condition that on rare occasions hasproved fatal. You cannot afford to ignore changes in your health.” Misha’s arm tightens, and Freda’s expression softens. “Brain surgery is one option. It works for a lot of people. You’ve always seemed wary of that choice, but it is not the bogeyman. We should talk about it when you’re feeling a bit better. As always, though, the choice will be down to you.”

She sits back. “Now, I understand we’re switching your care to a hospital in Norfolk. I’ll liaise with the epilepsy nurse and the doctors there so we can keep an eye on you, but I’m very hopeful that this is the answer.”

“Thank…” My voice hitches, and to my embarrassment, I feel tears in my eyes. I cover my eyes with my hands. “Sorry,” I mutter, trying to express the mixture of knee-weakening relief and cautious optimism.

“Don’t say sorry,” Freda says softly and pats my head. “I’m going to get you a cup of tea, poppet.” I hear the door close, and then Misha pulls me up and into his arms.

“Let it out, sunshine,” he says, and I bury my head into his shoulder and let the tears flow.

Eventually, I pull back and dab at his jumper. “I’ve made a wet mark,” I say, unable to look at him.

“Charlie Michael Burroughs, look at me right now,” he orders. My gaze shoots up, and he smiles. “Better.” He pulls his sleeve down over his hand and wipes the tears away with the material. Then he hugs me close and kisses me on the forehead before pulling back. “I’m going to say something now that you need to hear,” he says.

“Oh dear,” I say faintly.

He shrugs. “You don’t have to be Charlie Sunshine all the time, you know.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, startled.

Misha smiles wryly. “I don’t know if you’re just intent on living up to your nickname, but you seem to be convinced that you have to be happy and sunshiny all the time for other people. You can’t be angry and rage against things because you feel you have to be perfect. Well, you don’t have to be perfect with your mates and me and your family.” He shrugs again. “The sun goes in sometimes, and rain happens. Otherwise, we’d all need to invest in shares in Ambre Solaire.”

“I just didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“Well, you actually ended up worrying everyone. That’s what happens when you try to keep things from the people who care about you.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He shakes his head, straightening my jumper and pushing my hair back. “No need to apologise. Just do better next time.” I narrow my eyes at him, and he smiles briefly. “And now you’re going back to your mum’s, and you are going to get loads of sleep and gentle exercise. I want you to walk by the sea, feel the wind in your face, read all the books, and relax. You’ll tell the medical staffeverything. And you can’t come back until you’re better.”

I nod and sniff, not wanting to let go of him. His sturdy confidence in everything. makes me feel safe. “I think I’m probably going to message you all day,” I mutter.

He hugs me tight. “I think I’ll expect you to,” he whispers into my hair. “I’ll miss you so much. Two months and no longer,” he instructs me, and I nod.