Thursday, July 26, 2007

Days 149-152:dual personality

I'm back in Bangkok looking after my other patient: husband with a bad neck.

My last days in London were foggy and cold. I took Dad to see the Chinese doctor who does a marvellous job at NOT reassuring my Dad's fears. Not only was Dad to take it easy at this time of year (December), but in particular, he shouldn't strain his bowel movements.

As if Dad isn't obsessed enough with his number two's, he's even more so now!

Semi-fetched Mum from her trip. When she got home, it was like she had never left - there was a lot of complaining.

During my stay in London this time, while I thought Dad and I had been getting along fairly OK, he did say once "things won't be the same between us after this," - sort of implying that our relationship had changed, maybe to one less loving. I really didn't know what to say.

On my last day in London I was testing out my new digital voice recorder and asked Dad to say a few words. While my mum told me how much she would miss me, Dad chose to say: "You have a dual personality. Sometimes you are very nice. Other times, you are like another person."

At this point, I felt it reasonable to cut him off! Not exactly a nice lasting memory to take back to Bangkok!

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Days 147-148: back to the land of sound

Dad was in a foul mood yesterday. He's obsessed with getting a lenshood gadget for his latest camera and insists on shopping around to every small camera shop he knows in order to get it. As he's not fully independent, I have to go with him. At one point I had had quite enough and he threatened to go off by himself. Luckily, he didn't.

On the plus side, today he got his new hearing aids. They're sleek, dark grey, state-of-the-art masterpieces in micro- nano- digital technology. It's amazing. I don't have to shout at him, we can have a normal level conversation. In wonder, he told me how he could hear the women behind him on the bus chatting away.

It's like emerging from the cocoon of muffled sound and misunderstandings, back into the real world.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Days 141-146: Joe 90!

Dad had been asked to go for more tests at another hospital, this time to investigate his dizzy spells. If I have to be frank, it seemed like more of these experimental research areas rather than a proper diagnosis.

Firstly, he was seen by this no-nonsense doctor lady, although somehow, she did de-frost towards the end, maybe due to Dad's charm.

Then there was this mad professor-like man. Seriously, think of Einstein and then add a pair of wonky glasses. He was obviously the head of the research facility.

After, Dad was taken into the bowels of the hospital and made to sit in a revolving chair. He was clamped in place ("it's like an electric chair," dad said), a curtain with white luminous vertical stripes surrounded him, left in pitch black and then the chair was spun around and around.

"Stop! stop!" dad cried out in obvious distress. He couldn't see anything but these stripes passing by. I could look at the researcher's infra-red tv and see dad spinning around in the chair just like Joe 90.

After a few more go's, Dad had had enough and the testing stopped He really hated it there, described it as 'torture'. Looking back now, though, we have a little laugh about it.

Anyhow, after waiting for eons for the mad professor to see us (by now, the cleaners were putting away the waiting chairs and hoovering the floor), the diagnosis was that they weren't sure what was wrong. Dizzy spells probably due to his eye problem left over from the stroke. Well, I could have bleeding well told them that, couldn't I.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Day 140: ding! ding! ding ding ding ding ding ding ding

That's the sound of some bizarre percussion instrument in Chinese opera beating out the rhythms faster and faster. For the first time since dad's stroke, I heard him humming away to some Chinese opera tune in his head. He's a huge fan and used to sing some segment under his breath very often. It was so good to hear him tra-lah-lah-ing along again.

One of the my mum's many frustrations is Dad's deafness. His hearing aid is some duff one made years ago and for some reason, the GP has always fobbed off any notion that Dad should get another one on the NHS. Well, to be frank, I didn't even know you could get them on the NHS! Anyhow, by the end of this UK trip, I was determined Dad would be able to hear me without me screeching at the top of my voice.

So we went to Specsavers as they had a 2 for 1 offer and it looked like Dad would definitely need hearing aids for both ears. He took a hearing test in a sealed up booth ("looks like a fridge," Dad grunted). He had to press a button each time he heard something through his headphones.

Diagnosis? Very bad hearing, especially at high ranges. "Still got his reactions though," the audiologist remarked dryly. And his negotiating skills as Dad drove a bargain involving monthly interest-free payments.

He tried out a top-of-the-range model and could actually hear us talking at a normal level! OK, not crystal clear, but so much better than shouting. So we're going to give it a go. Of course, it still costs a bomb. And Dad will still go and get an NHS one now (even if I have to twist the bloody GP's arm myself for the referral). But fingers crossed, the world of hearing should be open to him very soon...

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Days 137-139: bye bye mummy

An interesting weekend. On Saturday, took Dad to Selfridges. We were testing out his new taxicard which knocks off about 11 quid on the taxi fare.

Well, we're really not that far from Selfridges. When we got to the taxi, it was already £6 on the meter cos the driver had been waiting 5 minutes. The total fare came up to £17, or which £8 we had to pay. So yes, it did get us there door-to-door, and I'm grateful to the government for stumping up over half the fare. But my palms still sweated a fair bit as the taxi meter clocked up.

We'd brought the wheelchair along and people were very polite and nice, opening doors, helping with lifts etc. Dad says though he looks "awful" in the chair.

Today, mum left for her holiday. As dad was in a funny mood, she said I shouldn't send her off. So, it's just me and dad now.

Fatt still in pain in Bangkok. I also heard about an old friend of mine whom I hadn't been in touch with in ages: she had a bad motorbike accident. Thankfully she is recovering OK, but has had to endure months of physiotherapy to learn how to walk. 2006 hasn't been a good year for health.....

Friday, June 29, 2007

Days 135-136: aims

Dad's care manager came round and we talked about social services' rehabilitation plans for him. They're aiming for him to be as independent as possible. The first step is for him to take public transport by himself. So far, he can get on and off buses with somebody around just in case. The physios are going to take it one step at a time. For example, making sure that he gets on OK at one bus stop, then skidding quickly to meet him as he gets off at the next one...

I took Dad to Chinatown - it was a big trip with brilliant sunshine one minute than thudding hailstones the next. But we made it. Only afterwards did I find out that it was one of those Chinese 'special days' i.e. when the weather /environment 'changes' and old / sick people should take extra care and not over-exert themselves.

The following day, an 'escort' came round to take Dad to the shops. I always laugh when they're referred to as escorts. Can't help it. Anyhow, it was another Nigerian lady. Or rather girl. Very pretty and petite and nice enough. Not willing to wheel Dad around in a wheelchair though, so they took the bus to Sainsburys, chased after his shopping list and bussed back, all within an hour.

Mum has also had some scans done for her health problems. Thankfully they seem to confirm a diagnoses fairly easy to deal with.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Day 134: Bracing himself

It's great to see how much Dad can do now - he's pretty independent, at least at home. He can wash his own hair, make his own breakfast, sort out his own clothes, handwash his underwear... he's managed to get his favourite carer to come in three mornings a week to help wash him.

Took Dad to a clinic on Harrow Road. It's some special clinic which fixes leg braces to help support you when you walk. Dad has a temporary one already which he likes. We waited for an hour - Dad kept telling me to go check that they hadn't forgotten us. I was reluctant, but did as he said. The receptionist just kept saying he didn't know when we'd be seen. In the meantime, tens of patients came and went ahead of us.

Turned out they had forgotten us.

So in a rush, they did fit us in. They were very nice and apologetic but I was pretty pissed off. Anyhow Dad's new brace is massive so they cut it down. It's a great help, but if he becomes overly reliant on it, he won't be able to walk without it.

Took the bus back home. Ken Livingstone's initiative of free bus travel for schoolkids is all very well, but they cause huge crowds at the bus stops. Most of the kids are fine but the naughty few drive the bus drivers insane and they start snapping at all and sundry. Anyhow, as I said before, it's usually the schoolkids who give their seat up to Dad, while able-bodied adults hog the priority seats, pretending they're asleep or that there's something amazingly interesting out the window...

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Days 118-133: Back in the UK again

My husband is suffering terribly with back and neck pain. He's tried chiropracty, physio, pain killers, muscle relaxants, acupuncture, heat pads... he's had x-rays, MRI scans and all to no avail.

And I'm back in England leaving him to suffer by himself. Poor soul. It's debilitating and depressing for him. He says he can sympathise more with the frustration and depression that dad suffers from.

So yes, back in the UK to see dad who was looking MUCH better than when I left him. His left hand is not so swollen and he can open and close it. He says his tastebuds are coming back and most importantly, he seemed in very high spirits. Wonder though if the depression will kick in later.

Mum was also quite chirpy. But she did pointedly remark how tough it had been for her.

p.s. EVAair rocks!

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Days 110-117: flights booked

Bought my ticket to the UK and mum's bought her ticket to go to Beijing - we'll pass each other like ships in the night in London...

Dad's hospital visit went well - the specialist doesn't seem to think there is much else to worry about.

Mum also took Dad to see the Chinese doctor in Potter's Bar. He was also pleased with Dad's progress.

They celebrated their granddaughter's first birthday by having dim sum in Dalston with my brother's family. Aaaah.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Day 109: who cares about the carer?

It was mum's birthday. I called her up to wish her many happy returns.

She started crying. My brother's family wouldn't be visiting that day and my brother can't get the day off to take my dad for his upcoming hospital appointment, so Mum would have to do it.

As a reminder: my parents are divorced, but my mum - due to living circumstances - is my dad's primary carer. Needless to say, she felt trapped. I remember what it was like when I was there: control freak mei, irritable, irrational and completely highly strung. It must be ten times worse for her.

She also has some health issues of her own to sort out.

I better start booking a flight to see them soon and give mum a well-deserved break.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Days 98-108: the hundred day's mark

It's been a hundred days since dad had his stroke. In my personal opinion, I think his physical progress has been highly impressive. He couldn't walk, or eat, or go to the loo before. Now he can walk by himself with a walking stick, feed himself fine, and take care of his toilet needs.

Sure, it's not a full recovery. His left arm and hand are not very helpful and dad's had to re-learn how to do many things one-handed. But I'm not sure stroke victims ever recover 100%. He's still been lucky and can do many many things.

His mood fluctuates from being very chipper and positive, to depressed and resigned. I'm hoping the chipper and positive will pull through.

He doesn't fall down so often and the physio has taught him a great exercise to help him get up from the floor should he do so.

He's also received a plastic leg brace that fits under his foot and behind his left shin. It gives support to him when he walks and he's found it a great help.

All small steps to independence and hopefully leading the lifestyle that he was used to before.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Days 90-97: Going it alone

Dad was very pleased with himself when I called him up.

He'd been down to the Post Office all by himself. The Post Office is probably only a 50-metre walk from our block. But it's a huge trip for someone who has had to re-learn how to walk.

He hadn't told anyone he was going to make the trip though - which is potentially dangerous. It's true that there would be plenty of people around to help if, say, he'd had a fall. But he's still quite vulnerable by himself.

"Don't tell your mother," he said, "or she'll be angry."

Of course he told him herself as soon as she got home.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Days 83-89: Assessment

Apparently dad needs to be assessed for care i.e. see if he'll have to cough up any money for the help he's getting from the council. Our care provider isn't sure if this is retroactive. The physio though says definitely not (phew!). I trust her knowledge on this.

On the positive front, dad now does leg exercises on the front balcony every evening. He's also been out for dim sum with my brother's family. And he has the energy to berate me for not getting a Carl Zeiss lens with my new Sony dSLR (he must be kidding!)

Not so good though is the lapse now and then into the 'nobody understands me' depression. Well, it's true - how can any of us actually know what he's going through?

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Repose

I've been a bit distracted so haven't posted.

It's due to this:

http://bkkbaby.blogspot.com/

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Day 76 - 82: poor Patient J

Mum told me that dad and I had got a letter. She opened it without dad seeing and found out it was from the step-daughter of Patient J. He used to be in the bed next to dad's at the hospital. The step-daughter used to visit every morning just like me.

It turns out that poor Patient J passed away a few weeks ago. He was getting better and then unfortunately had another attack and died. Poor patient J.

We've decided not to tell dad. It would get him very depressed.

Other news: dad's short term memory is a little muddled. He misplaced his credit card and mum was all in a tizz looking for it. Finally she called up the credit card company and they cancelled it. Then dad found his card on his desk.

Here in Bangkok, things are OK. But I'm looking at all the ramshackle pavements and all the roadworks, all the high curbs and dangerous holes. And I'm thinking: there's no way we'd get dad's wheelchair going around these streets. How do disabled people cope in Bangkok? Well, I guess they don't. Many are plonked on the streets by mafia gangs and stay there begging for pennies.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Day 71 - 75: Back in BKK

So, after 2 months, I'm back in Bangkok, hoping dad will be able to recover from his stroke by himself. Well with mum's help at least.

Do I feel guilty? Of course I do. But I also think that dad could possibly recover better without my constant fussing and bad temper.

Before I left, our ebay wheelchair arrived. One of the interesting things about buying disability equipment is that you don't have to pay the 17.5% VAT. Anyhow, the wheelchair is smart. It's light, easy to manoevre and easy to fold up.

I took dad out for a quick spin. Well it halves the time that it would take if I accompanied dad out walking. Of course, he should still practise his walking. I guess one of the most frustrating things is that now the wheelchair's arrived, there's nobody to push him around in it.

It was mid-Autumn festival, so we all had dinner in Chinatown. Dad was a bit subdued but I think he enjoyed it. Mother-in-law was there too. She's ever so sweet and kept inviting dad to come over and stay at her cottage in France.

We had to leave for Heathrow in the morning. It's better than hanging around. I'd written a letter to dad to remind him of his exercises, and how much progress he's made and how he must keep fighting.

Now that I'm in Bangkok, mum and dad phoned to say that the letter had made them cry. Dad says he feels OK. Good - it's one of those nasty Chinese days today.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Day 70: Escort agency

This morning, just after my alarm went off, dad came into see me. He sat by my bedside and told me how precious I was to him and how sorry he was. He asked, "Do you think we will see each other again?" and started crying. It was very tearful. Of course we'll see each other, I told him. He still has this 'bad day' notion in his head.

Dad went out with care manager S. They were gone a long time, but when they returned dad was pleased with himself. They'd gone off and had Benjy's for lunch. I think Dad's got a liking for Benjy's now. Anyway, dad told S that he'd really like somebody to take him out, you know, shopping at Sainsbury's. Cos after I go to Bangkok, who would take him?

"Well, we have an escort agency," said S.

ooh-er!!

In the afternoon, the toe lady came. My dad's toes are quite tough and hadn't been cut since the stroke. She filed and tidied them up for him. She was very jolly.

Also, certain handle bars had been fixed to the bathroom and dad's special chair was changed to a smaller size.

And we even bought a wheelchair on ebay today. A lot achieved all round.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Day 67-69: Disabled seating

I'm going to Thailand soon. I told dad. It was all a bit emotional. Though a couple of days ago, he did say that I was the one who drove him craziest!

Mum and I were nagging him to do his exercises but he acted like he didn't care. I had to walk out cos it was driving me a bit crazy. Mum blew her top and had a real go at him. He was very contrite after and did his exercises and then carried on as normal. I wish he would fight and fight the effects of the stroke.

This morning, I went into dad's room and he asked me to stay longer, because the dreaded days are coming up in the Chinese calendar, and he's still scared he will die on that day. But my husband won't like it if I change the plane tickets.

As for wheelchairs, apparently you can get some from the Red Cross, sort of like a long-term loan. Problem is is that they've run out. So ebay it is then.

Anyhow my real rant today is about the disabled seating on buses. Firstly, it's great that buses have them. BUT, able-bodied people love to sit on these seats and purposely look away when they see somebody who might need it. Schoolkids are actually quite good in this regard - they will give up their seats (just like I used to when I was young!). No, it's the grown-ups spreading their shopping over the adjacent seat who ignore the disabled/elderly's needs. Dispicable.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Day 64-66: Chinese medicine

We took dad to see a Chinese doctor who specialises in Traditional Chinese Medicine. My brother fetched us and took us all the way there. This is what the doctor said:

- apparently there are two days every month which are considered 'dangerous'. Something to do with a change in the cosmos or climate. Anyhow, they're marked in the Chinese calendar and basically the advice is to take it easy. The doc says dad's stroke happened around one of these days.

- if a man's stroke affects his left side, it takes a lot longer to recover than if it was his right side. The other way round for women. Something to do with the yin and yang

He prescribed many pungent roots and herbs for dad. I have to soak, boil, simmer, strain, and re-boil them once every 2 days. It's a bit musty-smelling but not unbearable.

But now dad is convinced that on the next monthly 'bad days' he's going to die. Talk about twisting the doc's words. We've had to repeatedly try to get this notion out of his head. Not successfully.

It's affected dad's mood. He was very snappy to physio J ("Tell me what to do and I'll do it!!" when she was trying to instruct him on an exercise) and care manager S who asked dad if he wanted to do any cooking. "I don't want to cook anymore!"

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Day 59-63: camera shopping

One of dad's dreams is that the whole family should go out for dim sum together. We managed to do that on Saturday and this cheered him up immensely.

But even better was the trip to the camera shop afterwards. Dad is so keen on photography that he's a well-known face around small camera shops in central London. At this particular shop, the staff were very surprised to see him entering unsteadily with a walking stick. Dad told them all about his stroke.

It was actually me who wanted to buy a camera but it was dad who ended up getting one - a small Sony digital, super-light with a massive screen. Since then, he's been taking it everywhere and his energy levels have shot up.

Today, the physios came twice to see us. The second time, three of them came: our care manager S, physio J, and a neurologist expert K. K made dad do loads of shoulder exercises in front of the mirror so he could see how lop-sided his body was.

We're going for a more directive approach to dad's physio exercises: a timetable with specific instructions rather than loads of different exercises and dad picking and choosing the ones he can do.

But dad was frustrated and complained that so many people had come to see him so many times, and he still wasn't better. He expects immediate results and blames everyone else when they don't come. I was pretty pissed off: S and J have been excellent. I honestly only have praise for our borough's rehabilitation service.

I know dad's feelings are largely affected by the stroke. But I still need to speak out if I think he's being unfair. I told him what I thought: everyone was working really hard for his benefit. He needs to put in the effort too, and not be distracted by, for example, taking pictures of his physio session. And he's made a lot of progress. Wish he could see that.

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Day 56-58: KFC yum!

Physio J says if dad's on the waiting list for wheelchairs, it will take bleeding ages ('bleeding' being my adjective, not hers). So, have to start looking for one now. Ebay seems to have loads.

Today, dad begged me again to get him some KFC. So, I got a takeaway - a 2 piece meal my personal fave. He pronounced it the best meal he'd had since leaving the hospital. Blimey, sod healthy eating or pure foods. It must be the grease.

I also took dad to see the GP who was all bright and breezy (though I'd've liked to have asked him why he didn't refer dad to see a specialist earlier rather than pursuing clueless opticians). He didn't tell us anything we didn't already know. Just kept the meds going and told dad to have regular bloodtests for cholosterol.

Getting there and back was a pain. A cool £6 each way by black cab and it's only down the road. What a rip-off taxis are.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Day 51 - 55: what's an organism?

I went away for a few days up north to see my husband. For many weeks now we've been living apart, him back at his dad's and me back down here in London. He's been very understanding about the situation, but now and then has to remind me that I'm a wife as well as a daughter.

When I came back, dad was OK. The following day he was quite depressed - "melancholy" is how he put it - and just watched TV. Everyday he takes senna so that he can go to the loo in the morning. If he can't go, he'll grab a suppository. Can't be good for you taking laxatives every day.

But then the day after there was a huge difference. We went for lunch at Nandos and then grabbed a trolley at Sainsburys which dad used for steadying himself around the store. He loved being there and filled the trolley with loads of goodies - which I had to put a halt to or I'd never've been able to get them home.

Later, he internetted and went to the Stroke Association site. There was a Q & A session where somebody had written: "my doctor has told me I cannot have another orgasm or it could bring another stroke". My dad read out the question to me, except he pronounced 'orgasm' as 'organism', then innocently asked what the question meant.

Actually, I think he knew precisely what it meant - so mischievous.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Day 49-50: so snoozy

Umm, obviously this blog does not take place in real time. Been a bit busy, but determined to carry on now.

Dad's arm and finger movements are extremely limited and he is exhausted after doing requisite exercises. It takes a huge amount of effort from him. How much is the physio stuff really helping?

Yesterday, our care manager came in. He's a nice enough bloke but not actually from the UK and not long in the job. Upshot, he doesn't really know what we're entitled to and what's out there. Luckily physio J knows quite a bit, so she offers a lot of info to us.

I'm a bit worried about what will happen in the future. Husband will not want to stay much longer in the UK and if dad is by himself, he'll be lonely and bored. I asked J about day care centres. She said that it might be a bit 'slow' for him, i.e. the old people there were, well, pretty old and to be blunt, some were a little senile. Probably not a great environment for him to be in.

At least while I'm here I can clear out the clutter in the flat. Dad's a great hoarder of toffa. We tackled the plug and leads box today. How many cut off wires do you need exactly? He really really didn't want to throw anything away.