Bad News

Early on Monday morning my dad had a stroke. We got news that he was in hosptial at 8am, it wasn't until mid-afternoon that we found out he'd had a stroke. We thought it was going to be a heart attack, or something like that. You don't expect a 53 year old to have a stroke. While it's bad news things aren't bleak, it hasn't affected his speech, personality or comprehension. His left side is affected, but the MRI scan has shown that it shouldn't be permanent - he can re-learn what he's forgotten, because it's the area of the brain concerned with co-ordination which was affected. Yesterday he managed to walk, with a frame, which is great. He's improving a lot everyday.

It's strange, after 4 days it's sort of become normal, and I'm telling everyone it's ok. There are lots of things which have to be sorted out, and so I'm telling new people the news several times a day, and everyone takes it so badly. I have to remind myself that it is *big* news. My reaction right from the start has just been, "ok, this has happened...where do we go now. What do I need to do." I cried a couple of times, a day or two after it happened, but I'm trying to keep my head firmly pointed forward - there's no point doing anything else.

We are on the look out for ridiculous pyjamas (for my dad). We were sorely disappointed when the male pyjama range proved highly sensible. We did manage to find a flamingo to tie to the end of his bed, it's called Fandango. We want a mini-Fandango to tie to the walking frame...I'm not sure my dad's as enthusiastic about the plan.

Until yesterday I was locked in a war with 'Patientline', the awful company that manages bed side entertainment in hosptials. You pay them an extortionate amount of money for TV, Internet, Radio and the telephone. My dad's bedside unit didn't work, and each day I was fobbed off with excuses. It was so annoying, because it meant my dad was sat there with nothing to do, just thinking about what's happened. We took him in a radio, but it had to be taken away for an electrical test. When I got to the ward yesterday his unit was fixed - this was unsurprising, I'd threatened 'Patientline' with our local MP and the media. Also, of course, my dad got all his electrical equipment back at the same time! I'm glad he's got lots to do now, but annoyed it took such drastic measures for something to be done.

Amidst all this I am searching for Universities to do my PhD at. The RS department at Lancaster has failed to secure funding for a PhD student, so everything's up in the air. My tutors are being excellent, though - they're actually emailing people they know trying to find out where there might be money for me!