GRACE
We’re back at the hospital in just over an hour. Max is still waiting in the family room and, given the amount of time that has passed, it unnerves me. “Why are you still in here?” I ask instead of hello.
“Had to wait for the shift handover. A nurse has just been in. We can go up in ten minutes.”
“So he’s…”
“The same.”
“Good. That’s good.” Or is it? I have no f*****g idea. “Has the, um…” I click my fingers, trying to remember the word. “The coal thing worked?”
“Activated charcoal,” Tom cuts in. “They’ll administer more doses at regular intervals.”
“Did you know he was taking citalopram?” Max questions.
“I don’t even know what that is.” My head hangs in shame. I should know what it is, what he’s supposed to take and when. I’ve let him down.
“It’s an SSRI,” Tom answers on Max’
