If in 1981 I’d written a blog (if there was such a thing then?) about my dad surviving to see his 80th birthday, readers would have thought I’d gone mad. Not because his mum and dad died young, but that year saw him hospitalised due to a sinus problem and the emergency operation resulted in him sustaining brain damage.
He spent six months in a London hospital, with my mum travelling daily to visit whilst as teenagers, myself, brother and sister tried to carry on as normal not knowing whether we would have a dad for much longer. Eventually he did recover enough to come home, but from that moment onwards life would be very different for his family. He was 40 years old.
Dad had suffered brain damage as a result of the botched operation. It left him with limited mobility due a stroke, loss of sight in one eye and only peripheral vision in the other and short term memory loss. His injuries were such that it was difficult to say how long he would live so whilst we were relieved to get him home, we really didn’t know how long we would have him around.
In the early nineties, dad suffered another setback, when his consultant had to remove another sinus mucocele, the same issue that caused him to go into hospital first time around. This was shortly followed by a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in his lungs and then incredibly he was diagnosed with a pituitary tumour, which was also operated on to remove. In the early 2000’s he suffered another PE, followed in 2010 by another.
During the eighties, mum started proceedings to sue two Health Authorities for negligence in mis-diagnosing his original condition and the Queens Hospital, London for causing the brain damage during the emergency operation. They all eventually settled out of court in 1990, basing the award on his expected life expectancy of 15 more years, which would take him to 65.
Fast forward to 2021, and dad has defied all medical logic and is still going and is about to celebrate his 80th birthday later this month. He has to have a live-in carer as, sadly, mum passed away in 2014, ironically by suffering her first and only pulmonary embolism. When she passed, the expectation was that dad would have to go into a home but incredibly seven years later he still lives at home and coping reasonably well. Even Covid-19 hasn’t got him.
His health has deteriorated in recent years; he’s starting to struggle to speak properly and his mobility has slowed considerably, although he is still capable of going out on him mobility scooter. But considering what his body has been through, for him to reach the ripe old age of eighty is nothing less than a miracle.
Sadly it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to celebrate his birthday with him this month due to the ongoing lockdown restrictions but I’m sure once things relax we’ll try and sort out a get-together, hopefully including his surviving younger brother and older sister.