Welcome back.

This feels like a really weird one to be coming back with, such a sad and frankly still very raw blow to my family unit.

As many of you who know me personally know, at 1.30am on Saturday 24th Jan 2026; my Dad called me in tears simply saying “Beth, I think I am having a stroke.”

That, for me, is when all this began.

For him however, it is not. His stroke had actually taken place on the Thursday night, whilst he was at his favourite pub, around people he considers friends.

They noticed. They noticed his face drop, his speech slur and made comments on the fact that he should call 111.

No one called an ambulance for my Dad. Meaning we lost the vital 6 hour window from the moment a stroke starts that vital protocols must take place to a) protect the vessel that the stroke has taken place in and b) give my Dad the medication needed to help prevent further strokes.

When asked why the ambulance wasn’t called, I got the response of “I don’t know.”

During one of the most stressful days of my life I don’t know, doesn’t fucking cut it.

So let me say here, if you ever notice the following things in a person you must act FAST.

• Face: Has their face fallen on one side? Can they smile?
• Arms: Can they raise both arms and keep them there?
• Speech: Is their speech slurred or unclear?
• Time: Time to call 999 if you see any of these signs 

Why Act Fast?

• Immediate Action: Stroke is a “brain attack” requiring instant emergency care to minimise long-term damage.
• Better Recovery: Rapid treatment increases the chances of a better recovery and reduces disability.

So I’ll take it back to Saturday at 1.30am. Thankfully my Dad had called the ambulance before he had called me.

By 2am I’m by his side.

By 2.30am we are in the first hospital of the day. Waiting. Scans. More scans. Bloods.

8am.. we simply get told, yeah it’s been a stroke, we are moving you to another hospital. No tact, just oh you’ve had a stroke.

By 11am we are being moved to Frimley Hospital.

At this point I want to shout about how amazing the staff at Frimley have been with my Dad and both my self and my partner.

They gave him the best care they could, they ensured the recieved the platelets he needed to help minimise the chance of this happening again. They worked with him to bring his blood sugar levels down and control and monitor his diabetes. I couldn’t be more thankful for the incredible nurses and doctors at Frimley Stroke Ward.

My Dad is lucky. He has leg movement and most of his speech back already. His arms are weak and he’s tired but we are the lucky ones. We were able to bring him home 4 days after he had been admitted.

Here’s what the don’t tell you about one of your family members going through something so serious. I know it’s not about me but it’s a wider thing isn’t it?

I haven’t slept a night through since, constantly panicking over every noise incase it’s him calling saying it’s happening again.

I’m constantly worried and in a state of he hasn’t messaged, something must have gone wrong.

I’ve had to change my whole routine, basing my evenings and time off based around what he will / might need.

I have to manage his bloods and when he takes his insulin, ensuring he stays on schedule.

I now meal plan, clean, tidy and parent him, just as he once parented me.

However the real things they don’t tell you is how hard it is to see your Dad cry because he doesn’t understand what has happened to him or why. How it can’t be him, it shouldn’t have happened to him. How you realise your parents aren’t super human.

It’s hard to see someone who enjoyed his retirement of only a few months and was having a great time with friends and his dogs to then be housebound unable to go and do what he loves.

No one tells you how scary it is to be at the point where you fear you might loose the one parent you still are in contact with. How he might not be able to walk you down the aisle at your wedding.

I’ve never felt so fucking scared as I did in the first thirty seconds of hearing the word stroke.

However it doesn’t end there, the next is the road to rehabilitation and getting him back to the way he was before that Thursday. We are so lucky with the fact that the NHS has dedicated stroke teams that visit stroke patients from the moment they get home until they are fully back and as good as they humanly can be.

I’m not writing this as some sob story.

I’m writing this as a warning, if you see someone displaying the signs of a stroke then please call an ambulance.

He has been one of the lucky ones but we have no idea how much better this could have been if someone had acted FAST.

Look after yourselves

Beth

Xoxox