He’d been ill for about 10 weeks and we’d been backwards and forwards to the doctor. He’d been vomiting and there was a bug going around school so we thought nothing of it. But he was still being sick a fortnight later and wasn’t eating properly. His was complaining that his head hurt and his eyes looked tearful, even though he wasn’t crying. After five or six weeks, the doctor sent Charlie to hospital for further tests.
We didn’t know this at the time but he had fluid on the brain which accumulated when he was lying down, but the moment he sat up, the fluids subsided. They couldn’t find anything wrong so he was sent home.
Over the bank holiday weekend, he was still poorly, I phoned my sister (who’s a nurse) and she told me to phone the hospital. We went to A&E but he wasn’t showing any symptoms, no temperature or anything, by the time we got there, because he’d been sat up in the car. But he’d lost weight and was having severe headaches so I knew something was wrong.
The hospital tried to send us home but I refused to go anywhere. My boy needed a scan and I knew it. After the scan, the consultant came to see us and took us to a side room; I knew something was really wrong. He needed another scan.
We drove to another hospital and he was put on steroids straight away. When we walked into the hospital and I saw kids with pumps and bald heads, I couldn’t believe what was happening. ‘We shouldn’t be here’, I thought.