It was pure luck that I called at all. Normally I would telephone my Dad on his birthday. This year I was busy, so the day before would have to do. As soon as he picked up, something seemed wrong. Was he drunk? It sounded like he was finding it hard to get the words out. But not just that - some of his words had the syllables transposed - and some were the wrong word altogether. I realised he was having a stroke. I knew he needed an ambulance - now to convince my independent
I don't blog - but I'm sometimes asked to write. Articles will appear here.