Sleep tight
Gilly exhibited the same bizarre symptoms today as he did on Thursday evening. His responses to questions seem nonsensical. I guess it could be a matter of worsening in the area of ‘word finding,’ but his answers are getting more and more ridiculous. At about 4:00 p.m. he shook his head vigorously a few times, followed by “ouch,” pointing to the top of his head. I asked him where it hurts, and he said “the cold spot.” I called the Jewish and spoke to the doctor on call in the Oncology Department to ascertain whether or not I should bring him in. They advised me to do so. He of course protested, but I didn’t listen, so we spent about 6 hours together in Emergency (nothing at all like the show, by the way). Tamara joined us, so I had a worry partner.
They drew blood and did a CT scan, and found nothing of concern. I was not all that surprised, but still puzzled as to what is causing the behaviour change (which worried the resident more so than the pain in his “cold spot,” which never returned after the few times he shook his head at home).
She advised that we have Gilly stay the night and have the neurologist see him in the morning. She consulted with him by phone, and he suggested that Gilly be followed up. She offered the choice of leaving and making an appointment with Gilly’s neurologist, or waiting at the hospital until morning, but strongly suggested he remain to be seen. She pointed out that the recent falls are of concern, and he should be checked out thoroughly to see what’s going on.
Gilly hesitantly agreed to stay and shooed us out (my mom was there too by then). So I am home, hoping to catch some shut eye. If I do not succeed in falling asleep, I’ll correct some exams, I suppose, to bide my time until morning. I was promised that the neurologist will not see Gilly before 9:a.m., so I plan to be there for 8:00 the latest.
I have a sinking feeling that unless the mystery is solved, and something can be done, I will need to have someone with Gilly at all times. I’m not emotionally ready to accept this, but I do understand the need on a cognitive level. It doesn’t make sense to me that there should be a growing state of confusion when the tumour hasn’t grown, so I’m hoping the change is due to medication, and that this can be modified.
Goodnight Gill. Sleep tight.
They drew blood and did a CT scan, and found nothing of concern. I was not all that surprised, but still puzzled as to what is causing the behaviour change (which worried the resident more so than the pain in his “cold spot,” which never returned after the few times he shook his head at home).
She advised that we have Gilly stay the night and have the neurologist see him in the morning. She consulted with him by phone, and he suggested that Gilly be followed up. She offered the choice of leaving and making an appointment with Gilly’s neurologist, or waiting at the hospital until morning, but strongly suggested he remain to be seen. She pointed out that the recent falls are of concern, and he should be checked out thoroughly to see what’s going on.
Gilly hesitantly agreed to stay and shooed us out (my mom was there too by then). So I am home, hoping to catch some shut eye. If I do not succeed in falling asleep, I’ll correct some exams, I suppose, to bide my time until morning. I was promised that the neurologist will not see Gilly before 9:a.m., so I plan to be there for 8:00 the latest.
I have a sinking feeling that unless the mystery is solved, and something can be done, I will need to have someone with Gilly at all times. I’m not emotionally ready to accept this, but I do understand the need on a cognitive level. It doesn’t make sense to me that there should be a growing state of confusion when the tumour hasn’t grown, so I’m hoping the change is due to medication, and that this can be modified.
Goodnight Gill. Sleep tight.
posted by Gilly at 11:35 PM
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