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!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!"
- 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Day 48: Keep the pressure up
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Day 46-47: Fish and Chips
Dad's been pleading for us to take him to Chinatown which would be a trip and a half! So we compromised and went to the fish restaurant a short bus-ride away. Dad managed to walk to the busstop and then when we arrived, walked from the busstop to the restaurant. He needed to pause a few times and we had to support him under his right arm as he used his left hand with his walking stick, but he did well. I guess more than anything, it's just getting out of the flat which is the key achievement.
We have a different carer come in on the weekends. She's also from Nigeria and is very placid, taking her time with dad so he doesn't feel rushed.
Today, dad started to use cook lunch for himself. Dangerous! Cooking one handed and unbalanced with a gas fire and a wok full of hot oil...and as his tastebuds have gone to pot, he throws in loads of stockcubes into everything. I have to nag at him and shout at him and runaround after him. But of course, I should be more patient and try to enjoy the time I have with him. Everytime I shout at him, dad sits down in his seat, grabs his yellow clipboard and writes everything down in Chinese...
We have a different carer come in on the weekends. She's also from Nigeria and is very placid, taking her time with dad so he doesn't feel rushed.
Today, dad started to use cook lunch for himself. Dangerous! Cooking one handed and unbalanced with a gas fire and a wok full of hot oil...and as his tastebuds have gone to pot, he throws in loads of stockcubes into everything. I have to nag at him and shout at him and runaround after him. But of course, I should be more patient and try to enjoy the time I have with him. Everytime I shout at him, dad sits down in his seat, grabs his yellow clipboard and writes everything down in Chinese...
Monday, November 20, 2006
Day 44-45: Dizzy
I'm a terrible person. I'm horrible. I get so impatient with dad and mad at him for silly things like making a mess cos he can't eat properly. I'm evil and hate myself. I seriously need to chill out. I'm just not cut out for looking after dad.
He's been complaining of strange eye problems again, just in his right one, like before the stroke. That's damn scary. The physio came to see us twice in one day - she's great. She's taught dad how to sit and stand properly, new exercises for his pelvis and hands. She advised me to call the GP about dad's eye symptons and even went back to the office and sent me loads of info about stroke symptons from the web.
So I've been ringing the GP who are way too busy to even call back. The surgery manager suggests I take dad to A&E. Dad refuses to go - he hated it there, all the tests and prodding. I called up the hospital. They also suggested A&E "if you're worried," but in the end, asked us to come in on Monday for a special outpatient stroke clinic. We've decided to wait till Monday then, see how his right eye goes.
He's been complaining of strange eye problems again, just in his right one, like before the stroke. That's damn scary. The physio came to see us twice in one day - she's great. She's taught dad how to sit and stand properly, new exercises for his pelvis and hands. She advised me to call the GP about dad's eye symptons and even went back to the office and sent me loads of info about stroke symptons from the web.
So I've been ringing the GP who are way too busy to even call back. The surgery manager suggests I take dad to A&E. Dad refuses to go - he hated it there, all the tests and prodding. I called up the hospital. They also suggested A&E "if you're worried," but in the end, asked us to come in on Monday for a special outpatient stroke clinic. We've decided to wait till Monday then, see how his right eye goes.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Day 43: why is God punishing me?
Last night, I awoke again at 3.30 am but for no reason and frustratingly could not get back to sleep for 2 hours. I keep thinking I hear Dad falling!
After the carer left this morning, Dad complained that he didn't like her. She was too rough and too rushed, he said. He felt unsafe. He wanted me to call the council to get her changed. I didn't know what to do. As my husband put it, "I don't think the basis of free healthcare is whether or not you get along with that person."
In the end though I did call the council and they were quite happy to change the carer for next week. Let's see what happens.
Later, two physios came. They were very good, especially physio J who listened carefully to what dad had to say and (very important this) spoke extremely clearly for him. Regarding dad's swollen hand, she said she sees it often in stroke patients and not much can be done. It's caused by the inactivity of the hand, of the muscles. Massage helps, but the best thing is to keep the arm or hand up (like in a sling) and try to use it as much as possible. If possible.
She gave my dad some exercises to practise, to stretch the arm muscles and promote some use in the hand. A lack of muscle usage could lead to them constricting and once constricted - well she seemed to be saying they don't go back. Scary.
The reason the physios were here was to actually run a series of tests on dad to see what he was or was not capable of and which areas to work on. His left side has a tendency to collapse, for which the right side compensates greatly. Of course the best is to try to get as much balance as possible.
I made lunch under dad's tuition, but his tastebuds failed him again. This happened again at dinnertime and he fell into a lacklustre mood. He asks, "Why is God torturing me?" and gets depressed. I know that this is partly a sympton of stroke, but I also feel that in many ways, dad is incredibly lucky. When I think about some of the other stroke patients in the hospital who can't eat or drink, who can't speak or see, who are incontinent... there's a lot I wish dad was more thankful for. I wish I could lend a more sympathetic ear to dad.
After the carer left this morning, Dad complained that he didn't like her. She was too rough and too rushed, he said. He felt unsafe. He wanted me to call the council to get her changed. I didn't know what to do. As my husband put it, "I don't think the basis of free healthcare is whether or not you get along with that person."
In the end though I did call the council and they were quite happy to change the carer for next week. Let's see what happens.
Later, two physios came. They were very good, especially physio J who listened carefully to what dad had to say and (very important this) spoke extremely clearly for him. Regarding dad's swollen hand, she said she sees it often in stroke patients and not much can be done. It's caused by the inactivity of the hand, of the muscles. Massage helps, but the best thing is to keep the arm or hand up (like in a sling) and try to use it as much as possible. If possible.
She gave my dad some exercises to practise, to stretch the arm muscles and promote some use in the hand. A lack of muscle usage could lead to them constricting and once constricted - well she seemed to be saying they don't go back. Scary.
The reason the physios were here was to actually run a series of tests on dad to see what he was or was not capable of and which areas to work on. His left side has a tendency to collapse, for which the right side compensates greatly. Of course the best is to try to get as much balance as possible.
I made lunch under dad's tuition, but his tastebuds failed him again. This happened again at dinnertime and he fell into a lacklustre mood. He asks, "Why is God torturing me?" and gets depressed. I know that this is partly a sympton of stroke, but I also feel that in many ways, dad is incredibly lucky. When I think about some of the other stroke patients in the hospital who can't eat or drink, who can't speak or see, who are incontinent... there's a lot I wish dad was more thankful for. I wish I could lend a more sympathetic ear to dad.
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