In October 2017 the academic Robert Douglas-Fairhurst went to see a neurologist in Oxford. A couple of months earlier a weird thing had happened: he’d gone on a long walk and ended it shuffling along, like an old man in slippers. He wasn’t yet 50. Having had a scan, he was looking forward to hearing there was nothing to worry about. ‘I’m going to come right out with it,’ the neurologist said, fixing him in the eye. ‘I think you have multiple sclerosis.’
All of us, Douglas-Fairhurst writes in Metamorphosis, his heartening and unexpectedly gripping memoir, find at one point or other that we are standing on a trap-door. If we are lucky it doesn’t open, or we step off it. If we are unlucky it opens. Hearing the diagnosis was his trapdoor moment: ‘There was a break of wood, the sharp click of a sliding bolt, and then nothing but the sensation of rushing air.
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