I phoned him for a quick chat today, sadly even with the oxygen he can't manage to talk for long and the horrible wet and cold weather we are having are not helping him at all. He's been in and out of hospital recently as the side effects of the medication that keep his lungs working have completely fucked up his kidneys, to the extent that the water retention in his legs is so bad he can't bend his knees by midday most days. A nose bleed the other week resulted in him being hospitalised as it turns out they hadn't got his warfarin levels right.
He was positive on the phone today, he's had a couple of clients in for treatment last week (oh yes, he refuses to give up working) and has taken to reading a lot more since we bought him his own kindle....
I still can't face going to visit him.... I want my memories to be of him being strong and well.... to be of the man who used to think reading Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy to a 7 year old was appropriate for a bed time story, who obtained secret cocktail recipes (non alcoholic) from the skeleton who lived in the attic and made them for us when mum said we should have been in bed long before, who paid us and the neighbourhood kids to go collect elderflowers, blackberries or dandelions for whatever strange home made wine he was making that year.
When we were kids, if we couldn't sleep he used to sing to us, this was one of his favourites .....
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