Absent without leave - passive seizures

Dad has been very quiet for a few days. He thumbs a few pages of the newspaper but doesn't really read it, despite having read one every day of the 29 years that i have known him. He often stares at the television for long periods but we can't say how much he is actually interested and how much he is drawn to look in its direction simply because of the sound and motion. He is not interested in food, but mostly puts up with us spoon-feeding him and seems annoyed almost at our insitence that he tries to drink more too. He told me the other day "Stop trying to pump me full of water"
After Dad's recent seizures i realised that he has, i think, been having seizures for a while, but seizures of absence rather than active physical seizures. There are periods where he stares at nothing and it is impossible to get his attention through talking and waving at him. They tend to only last 10 - 20 seconds each time, but it has happened several times most days. He often says a few words of a sentence and then suddenly stops without finishing it. We had noticed that he 'zoned-out' every so often, but it was only after seeing him have an active seizure that i really thought about it. I'm sure he was only confused last night though, when he hiccupped loudly while the nurses were here and i said "Been on the sauce again Dad?" and he replied "No you've been on it for me!" Serves me right for being cheeky.

What's the time Mister Wolf?

Dad's steroids have been increased again and that along with his absence of headaches, on account of the morphine, made him pretty chirpy today. I managed to get him sitting upright, take his medicine and eat a bit of dinner as well as some pudding. Mum made a bit of a breakthrough yesterday. She has been taking Dad meals in bed for the past few days and found he hadn't eaten much or sometimes anything. But yesterday she spoon-fed Dad and found he ate far more. She suspected he was feeling too weak to bother and was desperately worried that the end was very very near. But we now think that the cognitive process of knowing you must lift the food and put it into your mouth was perhaps disrupted. Either way, tonight he fed himself the pudding (yoghurt). Realistically, this could just be down to his increased steroid dose (they increase perkiness and give you a false appetite) but we are very relieved he is eating again (and Mum is glad she didn't manage to starve Dad simply by not helping him to eat the meals!)
Dad is still very muddled. He still refers to the remote control as the 'screwdriver' and is keen to know where it is at all times, even when the television is turned off (and he doesn't want it turned on.) I tease him gently when he says things that make no sense and he laughs at me. When he laughs though he screws his face up as if in pain because his face is less fleshy than it used to be. That has taken some getting used to. The doctor has decided not to proceed with Dad's radiotherapy for the metastasis on his left side. The effects take a while to become apparent and it could bring Dad more discomfort while not guaranteeing any benefit. We have been advised that Dad probably has 'weeks' ahead now rather than 'months' so bringing him extra discomfort at this stage seems unfair.
I chatted with Dad a bit tonight. Knowing his interest in Barbados since we lived there, I told him about hurricane Tomas which has just wreaked havoc in Barbados and which is currently battering St Lucia and on it's way to Haiti. I showed him the coverage of Qantas' A380's engine explosion in today's paper too and he asked if my boyfriend's sister was worried about 'her planes falling out of the sky' She is Australian (like my boyfriend funnily enough) and met Dad when she was here in September (so recently flew to Australia) Maybe that's why he said that? Dad also made an extra effort i noticed, to sound normal when speaking to Grandma on the phone earlier. Dad has these glimpses of himself and of alertness which peep out from behind the fog of confusion from time to time. Which reminds me, he can no longer tell the time. I spotted him looking at his watch earlier and asked him what the time was. His response was to look at his watch again, fold his arms across his chest, announce "I couldn't tell you" and then laugh.

Scan news

This week Dad had a full body scan, the first since September and the completion of his radiotherapy. We have noticed over the past fortnight that he is increasingly tired, confused and headaches have returned, so feared the worst, but in fact although it revealed that the metastasis on his left side is growing (two months ago it was 4cm and it is now 6cm) it also showed that the whole brain radiotherapy has slightly reduced the size of the metastases in his brain. The oncologist, recognising the return of symptoms, has increased Dad's steroid dose again. He is now on 4mg of dexamethasone a day (originally put on 16mg a day back in August and since weaned down to 2mg a day week by week) This should reduce the swelling surrounding each metastasis in his brain, reducing the pressure on his brain and hopefully the symptoms. We were told Dad is not well enough for an operation  but he will be given radiotherapy for the metastasis on his left side.
Scans aside, Mum and Dad are doing well for cake at the moment, as their neighbour is kindly providing a regular supply of home-baked goodies. Dad has always had a sweet tooth, so he is very much enjoying this. He even has enough appetite to wolf down several at a time! Some golfing buddies came round and my cousin visited too with his girlfriend. Dad enjoys seeing people but gets tired quickly at the moment and zones-out a bit during conversations. Having said that, he was cheerful at lunch out on Saturday and when asked how the doctor's visit was he replied "He was very well thankyou!"