Three weeks ago my life was pretty normal. Work was good. I was thinking about writing on my blog again, as I realise it's been quite some time since I have actually written anything on my blog. I had finished work, driven home and whilst thinking about what to cook for my dinner-out of the blue came a disturbing phone call- from my Mother.
My Father had suffered a stroke and had been taken into hospital. I suddenly felt sick, my legs went numb, my heart started to race, I broke out into a cold sweat! I started to panic. That evening I collected my mum and we went to see my dad in hospital, Ward 7 stroke ward. As we entered the ward, the smell of antiseptic hit our senses. Beds with mostly women, relatives sitting at their bed side. My dad was lying in a cot bed ( with sides so he didn't fall out. ) I walked round to his right side and kissed him on the head. Feeling awkward, not knowing how to talk to him. He looked confused and dazed. My mum spoke to him, enquiring how he was feeling. I was shocked to hear his speech slower that usual. He was very confused. The pyjama's he had got on were covered in what appeared to be dried food. My Father is 75 in June. Before the stroke my dad was a fit and relatively strong man. Proud of his appearance, a private man. Could he have taken a step out of his body and looked down upon himself, he would have hated the way this stroke had hit him. As he went into detail of the accident he had that morning, walking to the bathroom. We never discuss toilet business. He had aged about 20 years, he looked confused, not sure of where he was, who he was! He was my dad, my dad was in his body some where, he didn't look 74, more like 94!! He had lost the use of his left hand. On the day of his arrival, a scan was performed on him to find out exactly what was wrong, although the doctors had a pretty good idea, he'd had a bleed on the brain, he also has a blood clot. I have to say now, three weeks later that my dad is improving. He can now actually feed himself without covering every one else. He has regained the full use of his left hand, but his left leg still hinders him, especially getting out of bed and the corner of his mouth no longer droops, he has stopped dribbling. The social worker form the hospital came to visit my mum and dad a couple of days ago, to access him. He's come along way since three weeks ago, three weeks ago my mum was worrying how she was going to cope without him, I thought he was going to die. He still has a long way to go. He hasn't got any patience, he isn't allowed to drive for at least another month. He may return back to his former health, I sure hope he does. We pray that he doesn't have another stroke... ever. We may not be so lucky next time!!