Our new weekday carer came this morning. Another Nigerian lady - they must monopolise the carers in this borough - with beautiful braids and a broad smile. I liked her, but Dad was so-so. Probably because she told him to say "please" and "thank you" which he hardly ever does.
I decided to heed my husband's advice and take it easy. Hey presto! We had an enjoyable day. I took dad to the hospital (a pricey 10 quid minicab ride) for the stroke clinic where we were seen by a senior stroke nurse and a brain specialist.
- blurred vision
The nurse and doctor put our minds at rest about dad's blurry right eye. They did not think another stroke was imminent as he was taking preventative medicine now. Their conclusion was that when dad exerts himself too much, not enough blood was reaching his right eye (now that his right carotid is blocked). There was an operation which could help bypass the blockage but this would do nothing to help dad's eye. "Sounds perverse," the doctor said, "but make sure he doesn't take any medicine to lower his blood pressure." In other words, blood pressure should be normal, even highish, so that blood can circulate as much as possible and circumvent the blockage.
- swollen hand
They would send an odema (very tight fitting rubber) glove.
- deadened taste buds
It happens.
- depression
Very common. As it was not wild mood swings, we just have to keep an eye on it.
We were much relieved after the visit. We took the bus home. The busstop is not far but seemed like a marathon for dad. It was the furthest he'd walked since his stroke. He did so well, but I really think we'll need a wheelchair in future as it was completely exhausting.
Got an Indian takeaway for dinner as a mini-celebration. Poor dad - still can't taste a thing.
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