Pulling into the drive, I switched the car off and put my hand to my head.
Rubbing my temples, I groaned to myself.
It was 2011, I was 21, and training to become a nurse.
I adored my job, loved being able to help others, but now, after a long day, I had a splitting headache.
‘What do you want for your tea, love?’ my mum Pat, now 59, called as I plonked my handbag next to the front door.
‘I’m not really hungry, Mum,’ I sighed, walking into the kitchen to meet her.
But as soon as I walked into the room, a rush of pain hit me in the head.
The worried face of my mum became blurry in front of me, and I suddenly felt nauseous.
‘Charlotte,…