[post_page_title]A late diagnosis[/post_page_title]
Sitting in a doctor’s office in Liverpool’s Heart and Chest Hospital that fateful day, Richard had no notion that things would turn out this way. He’d made the 65-mile drive over from his home in northern Wales, along with his wife Emma, and believed the appointment was merely about switching up the antibiotics he’d been on for a pesky lung inflammation.
What it was really about was breaking it to him – he suffered from cystic fibrosis, just like his older sister, who had died from the condition, and his younger sister, who was very ill. His initial, unfiltered reaction was, “F*** no!” But the doctor wasn’t done. Continuing in measured tones, he told Richard he couldn’t be his children’s father.
