wings and things

Millionaire’s coffee

A few years ago, before Anthony became so incapacitated with Parkinson’s disease, we used to go to a restaurant on the beachfront after every doctor’s appointment.

We went to this restaurant after his diabetes diagnosis and we ate apple pie with cream and icecream defiantly.

We went to this restaurant after his liver disease diagnosis and drank a bottle of wine defiantly.

We went to this restaurant after his prostate cancer diagnosis and ordered the banquet deal defiantly.

We went to this restaurant after his Parkinson’s disease diagnosis and decided to try the millionaire’s coffee.

Today I decided to take Ants to this restaurant (which now has new owners). It’s only a few blocks from the nursing lodge, so very convenient, but I was still really nervous because of the unpredictability of PD.

I became even more nervous when Ants had difficulty walking, with his walker thingy, to the car and getting in. But, once his uncooperative feet were in, and his seatbelt was on, I started to feel more optimistic.

And it was a success! Ants was able to use the walker to get into the restaurant and we had an ocean view, a half bottle of wine, some fantastic prawns and scallops, and some bits of conversation. His PDD kept making the conversation weird but every time he said something crazy, I just laughed and squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

After we’d finished eating, I decided to order his favourite coffee, but the new owners of the restaurant had never heard of a millionaire’s coffee so I had to tell them how! The only trouble is that I couldn’t remember which three liqueurs went into it so I just asked them to use their imaginations.

They did a good job! Well I think they did – my head is still spinning – haha.


Love story 118 – Sunbaking

Anthony’s skin cancer operation has suddenly been fast-tracked to tomorrow (Monday) – yikes, I only got the phonecall Friday. Okay, for those who don’t know this, Anthony has a very nasty skin cancer right next to his left eye and it is painful, so it has to be cut out. This has to be done in hospital so he needs to be there by 9am and I still haven’t decided whether to get the wheelchair taxi and meet him there or take him myself. His mobility at this time of the morning isn’t good.

Over the years, Anthony has had multiple skin cancers either burned off (with that nitrogen spray stuff) or surgically removed. Many of them have been squamous cell carcinomas, not melanomas, which is good. He was born into an era where hats were worn haphazardly and sunscreen probably hadn’t been invented and, when I met him, he was in the habit of sunbaking after lunch to get a tan. Inna (his mother) would often ask me where he was and I would tell her he was lying out near the fig trees and she would tut-tut and say that was fine as long as I wasn’t sunbaking with him – ha! At the time, that would have been a dream come true for me but I am glad I didn’t as he has now had over 50 skin cancers burned off and several requiring surgical removal.

So tomorrow will be an adventure of sorts because of how his PD, and now PDD, is likely to affect the ordeal. The surgeon is not going to do the procedure with a general anaesthetic (too risky) so Ants will be given a local anaesthetic and sedation. The operation will take about an hour or so. I have to admit that I am absolutely dreading this because of what happened last time.

Last time, the skin cancer was on top of his skull so the pain he suffered afterwards was excruciating and his medications for PD were temporarily lost and he missed a dose or two: result, he went totally loopy and had to be on 24/7 watch. It was a nightmare just after the operation so I raced home to get his spare meds., raced back and sneaked him some and he was okayish for awhile but (this was a few years ago when he was more mobile) he kept trying to wander out of the hospital – argh!

Tomorrow I will have to arm myself with secret drugs – ha – and a double dose of patience with both Ants and the system. It is only going to be a day procedure this time and I’m not sure if this is a good idea or a bad idea – maybe he should stay one night in the hospital? I wish I knew. I have decided to take my box of paperwork in as I will be there for hours.

This is probably my overactive imagination but sometimes I can feel Inna’s smile of approval, almost as if she is kind of watching over her son, and me, and Ming. This is a good feeling.