Perous Secret Diary - Keep Out: September 21, 2012

ronald perou d.o.b 19.5.38

wake to mrs.perou in a panic about mr.bunny having stolen sratford's heart meds (in a plastic medicine bottle) off the kitchen table and eating them all (and the bottle)

i'm not quite sure what stratford's heart pills do but i reckon they're probably some kind of speed.

the emergency vet says we need to make mr.bunny sick and if we give him two tablespoons of bicarb of soda, he will puke immediately.

on mr.bunny's third tablespoon of bicarb of soda, there is no sign of him being sick: his tail is wagging and he is licking the spilled bicarb off the floor.

then suddenly he does three very fast circuits of the front lawns, runs to the bushes near the main barn, falls over with his legs in the air and is violently sick, lying on his back.

manage to get him to his legs before he does a rock-star-choking-on-his-own-vomit exit.

he pukes a few more times, sits with his eyes rolling to the back of his head and shakes for a few minutes, before returning to 'normal' and has breakfast.

i go for a salubrious £3.45 full english breakfast at tescos cafe with steve and richard to discuss works on the bow bunker (the official name for the new perou factory)

when i return to the farm, mrs.perou is in tears: my dad's not well: he's in an ambulance on his way to haywards heath hospital with a suspected stroke.

14 4
make it to haywards heath in time to catch my dad on his way to brighton hospital because haywards heath doesn't have the right bit of kit to give him a scan he needs.

my brother mark, nina, mum-mum and dad-dad go in mark's car and i follow in the mini.

quicker than waiting for hospital transport.

as we're pulling up to the hospital, one of my crowns (teeth) fall out.

this day SUCKS

dad (aka dad-dad to some) has the scan and has an x-ray.

i am VERY sad to be stopped from photographing him having his x-ray.

would have been epic

like when you lose a camera and anything you shot on it becomes mythically the BEST ever photos you have taken (and can never have)
so are those you see but can't take.

i should have just done it and not asked, then gone 'oops, sorry'.

this image of dad standing up, holding onto the xray machine in this patel green room with weird light is now burnt into my mind.

dad is admitted to the stroke ward straight away, which is unusual apparently

i go to a harvester for dinner with mark, nina and mum-mum, at the marina, while dad has TWO dinners at the hospital.

weird to be in brighton (my almost home town) i spent so much time here when i was younger.

dad has an appetite but he's slurring and the right side of his face is a little frozen/dropped.

HATE seeing any of my loved ones in trouble.

horrible seeing our olds getting old

dad is smiling when he knows people are looking at him but looks scared and frail when he's not smiling.

brighton hospital is a DUMP.
but at least it is better equipped than haywards heath.

dad is in a ward with six other men who all look a lot older and sicker than dad (who is 74 actually)
dad says he feels like a fraud.

but his stroke is genuine and the doctors obviously thought it was serious enough to admit him.

happy he's in the right place for best care currently.

hopefully

there is a sign on the ward door that says they haven't had a c-difficile incident in 8 weeks.

after dinner, return to the ward to sit with dad a while till 'visiting time is over' (sung in the style of robert smith)

drive mum-mum back to their house where i lived age 0-21

i write this from my old bedroom: i'm staying overnight.
the house feels much smaller than it did when i lived here.

heavy day

MUCH love and thanks to everyone who's been sending love and positive vibes my dad's way.

as you may know i place great significance in the power of positive group thoughts (or prayers).
thankyou from me and my family x