I remember when my brother got appendicitis whilst we were staying with my grandparents in Spain. He was rushed to hospital, and then on to a different one. When I went to visit him he was quite weak and hadn’t really got out of bed yet. He must have been about 11, and I was therefore 15. I took his elbow, his strange hospital pajamas and his pale face, and we walked the corridors together- slowly but surely. I always think of it as a turning point in our sibling relationship.