The Royal Hospital Gwent

With the Kindle Liz had given me for my 62nd birthday, I sat up in bed reading The Life of Pi by Yann Martel. Several nights into the book, not understanding the plot, I had read the words: "Oncoming death is terrible enough, but worse still is oncoming death with time to spare, time in which all the happiness that was yours and all the happiness that might have been yours becomes clear to you, you see with utter lucidity all that you are losing..."

The next day the family had the sad news that Liz's father had experienced a mild stroke, and I read the passage again. I suddenly knew what Yann Martel meant. Those words encapsulated exactly how Bill must have felt.

Liz and I travelled down the M5 and M4 to the Royal Gwent Hospital in Newport, Gwent, on the last Sunday of February, passing farms, fields and light industry.

Liz said, "I thought he would live forever, it's hard to think of him as old."

In his hospital ward, we were pleased to find Bill in remarkably good spirits, his mobility and speech unaffected, although he appeared confused.

Later, the issue of what arrangements to make for Bill became a prickly subject. Whilst her dad could manage on his own, we had to grasp the nettle of the future.

"All families around the world have to face this, Liz," I said. "I know he values his independence but this Bron Afon Community Housing seems pretty good from what I've read."

"Well, being a strong Labour supporter all his life, he'll admire the fact that the people own it."

Visiting the housing association, Liz and I were very pleased with the staff, the open-style management and the facilities. All this persuaded us to apply for a supported bungalow for Bill.

"Dad," Liz said, appealing to him in a gentle voice. "The major advantage is that everything in the two-bedroom bungalow is on the ground floor. You'll have a support intercom lifeline installed with a pendant alarm if needed."

"And my pigeons?" Bill asked, concerned.

"A Bron Afon tenant with an allotment has agreed to house them there," Liz diplomatically answered, and you can see them anytime."

Liz's dad moved into his tenancy four weeks after his stroke.