A Step In The Right Direction

A Star Wars photo of the ‘Blinking Eye’ in Newcastle. (It was taken on May 4th, 2017)

I went to see The Amazing Dr. A on Monday of last week. I had actually seen him, briefly, the previous week as I was walking along the corridor to the Blood Nurse at the Surgery. That brief interlude had been useful because, when I entered his room on Monday and after the usual pleasantries had been exchanged, he commented on my difficulties walking. (They are very obvious, and even more so on a ‘stiff’ day.) I told him about my hobby of falling and said that I didn’t think I had osteoparosis because I should surely have broken a few bones by now. He seemed to agree with that. He also commented on how quickly my walking deteriorated and I agreed. That led us to talk about my general deterioration over the past few months and its effect on both me and FPR.

FPR and I had had a heart-to-heart the previous night about how and I am at the moment, how quickly things have changed and what might happen in the future. We both agreed that it is scary. And I mean really scary. Becoming a carer for me is a huge, and largely unexpected, commitment for FPR. We had both assumed, due to his own problems, that I would be caring for him, but the tables have turned. This is big stuff. We haven’t signed on the dotted line for the “in sickness and in health” stuff so the prospect of needing FPR as a carer is precarious – for him and for me. There is an expectation that I will be cared for by him, because that’s what couples do, but it still feels precarious. I know that marriage isn’t always permanent, but getting married shows the husband and the wife that they each intend to be committed permanently to the other. This doesn’t mean that I think FPR and I should marry, it’s more a way of explaining my feelings. Don’t imagine that FPR is reluctant to care for me, that is definitely not the case. However, understandably, the prospect is as daunting for him as it is for me. It feels shaky for me, in a similar way to having sold my house and then be living in his house. I suppose some of it is to do with not being in control, which is ridiculous when one considers that one is not in control of what medical conditions one has.

Anyway, enough of that. Let’s get back to The Amazing Dr. A.

I mentioned to TADA (The Amazing Dr. A) that I was worried I might have had a stroke, because of something said by FPR’s neurologist when we saw him recently. However, TADA said that he doesn’t think the deterioration is due to a stroke. He also said my symptoms were a-typical. He had a good look over me, checking various things and said he would refer me to the Musculo-Skeletal Team for their input. He was hopeful that they would be able to put in place some intervention to help me. It sounds to me like a promising step in the right direction.