Monthly Archives: September 2015

Moving house

Yes….at long last, I’m back to blogging. There hasn’t been a lot to report and I’ve lacked inspiration lately but sometimes there’s a flurry of news and I get back to the blog.

This morning I wrote about my dad and the strong possibility that he has some form of dementia. (

The other big thing in my life at the moment is moving home. When dad went into care last November we had to put the house on the market and downsize. The first estate agent we used was a bit too laid back for my liking and so we changed agent and within a week we had a buyer.

We got all the legal stuff rolling and then also found a bargain house that we both loved. I started packing boxes. Life was looking positive.

Lat week we got a call to say that the person buying our buyer’s house had dropped out. We were devastated. We had already paid for a survey and searches – money we really could have done with for day to day living. Now we are back to showing people round and either hoping for a new buyer or hoping that our existing buyer can sell his quickly now that his is back on the market too.

Why don’t we do it like Scotland? It would save so much heartache for everyone concerned. People would think very seriously before making an offer if it were legally binding.

We have a viewing on Friday. They haven’t sold their house yet. Not very hopeful on that one as the one thing I have learned over that last few years is that you don’t view houses before yours is sold.

It all ends in tears.



I have thought for a while that my dad might be showing signs of dementia. Yesterday confirmed this. He has had several falls in the last fortnight and all tests came back clear – no sign of any infection. I just happened to be with him yesterday when the doctor came to call. He checked his blood pressure and listened to his chest. He asked him how he felt and he said ‘Fine!’  He had fallen yesterday morning and complained of a painful bottom so was taken to the local A&E to be checked over.

The doctor asked me if I thought he might be confused. I confirmed my suspicions with plenty of examples…..asking the same question repeatedly, not remembering having a blood sample taken, not knowing why he was on his feet when he fell….it was quite a long list.

The doctor asked if dad would mind answering some questions. He agreed.

‘What is your date of birth?’

He got that one right.

‘Do you know what year it is?’


‘Do you know what month it is?’


‘Could you count backwards from 20 to 1 for me?’

‘20,19, 16…..18…..’

And so it went on. He certainly demonstrated that there was something to be concerned about.

So now we start down the route of tests and checks to ascertain exactly what is happening to him.

We won’t be the first and we certainly won’t be the last.