Everything Is Here To Help Me

The consultant neurologist is tower tall, gangly - I'm put off by his preemptory manner at first but then instantly reassured by his soft South African accent. He says all the right things -  like Robin having an MRI scan of his neck and head and that's what he should have had in the first place and he lists the tests he needs - an ECG, bloods, nerve tracking, breathing, swallowing.

 He looks long and hard at Robin's arms and legs, stokes the top of his hands gently, taps his reflexes with a long rubber hammer. He talks directly to Robin about finding out the cause of his muscle weakness and why the motor neurones aren't firing and what the tests are for.

Robin looks blank, then looks at me, then looks at the consultant and says, 

Tell her majesty, I don't know what you're talking about.

The consultant says,

Does she mind being called that?

I say,

Yes I do, but it doesn't stop him.

And we all laugh. 

 I ask if there's any connection with Robin's dementia and he says yes, there may be....there is new research to indicate this kind of thing can be related to brain disease. He says it may take 2 weeks to get an appointment for an MRI but he'll treat it as a matter of urgency.

I don't know what it all means....don't know why I'm crying....just had enough of this day.....but vaguely remembering that everything is here to help me... however well disguised....