When Dad was broken.
The last few months have been odd. Since February my Dad has been ill. He's been in our house but at the same time very much not in our house. Dad got a bit forgetful after half term, just forgetting the way to places and little details about things which is fine because his brain has been on full power for 73 years and is probably a bit frayed around the edges, mines only been going for 34 and has less life than an iPhone battery. Only then he started to get things very jumbled and started to forget more and more really quickly. In the space of 2 months he went from fine and dandy to a rather poor photocopy of himself. It was all a bit of a shock and obviously we took him for some scans and made appointments with a lot of people.
A week or so ago another layer to this massive memory mystery was added when he started to have some small but rather shocking convulsions. Now, to see your Dad's memory disappear at a disturbing rate is one thing but adding convulsions on top of that is a real shock. We were dealing with the memory thing and waiting for what we thought would be a diagnosis of Alzheimer's or Dementia but putting this in the mix meant something all the more sinister was likely. We decided to take him in to hospital right away to get him sorted.
My Dad is my Dad and he always will be, there's no doubt about that. Still mucking around and making jokes and sleeping in front of the snooker but there was a bit missing. Like building an Airfix model of an old Fokker without the wings. It's strange to have someone in the house that you know really well but hardly really know at all. The photocopier was nearly out of toner.
He's in hospital now, up there, looming over Leicester on the 3rd floor of the Royal with it's yellow walls and dazzling views of not much. His diagnosis (or at least what they think they're dealing with) is Autoimmune Limbic Encephalitis. That's a swelling of the brain. Ouch. All that added pressure up there causes the little seizures and the memory issues but hasn't effected his ability to do the crossword.
He is getting better very slowly. The 'very slowly' bit there doesn't matter because he's getting better. His seizures have slowed right down and he's bored, which is always a good sign. He's coming back very gradually but he's definitely coming back. The toner levels have increased.
We didn't think he'd be back. My brother and I were almost sure that the chap we once knew wasn't going to return which is a bit of a big deal. It's like watching someone you love stroll quite quickly away from you, not turning around to wave, not coming back. We're very very lucky that he is making his way back, remembering his way back home albeit going around the houses a bit and even if he stops halfway back and decides to stay there, it's ok. It's ok and we're lucky.
His seat is still here in the living room along with his thesaurus, pile of papers and crossword pencil so he can resume normal service in his own good time.
More soon x