Feb 14th:
Arrived at hospital around 11 to find Andrew dressed and parked in the day room whilst his bed was being given a very thorough clean ( I was quite impressed - it looked as if it was some routine procedure underway perhaps they do it once a week or something - it seemed as if it was being partially dismantled to be done). They were doing the underside of the mattress and the ends of the bed and - well -everything.

Establishing questions revealed that he was 24 and I was his girlfriend.

We then had a very pleasant quiet two hours in the dayroom starting on his "memory book" ( a file with plastic pockets in which I can put facts and photos etc.). We covered his family, where he has lived in his life, and various categories of friends e.g. "old friends", "music sales friends", "leighton buzzard friends", and the bands he has been in and some of the other musicians he has played with. It is as if someone has put him in a time machine and sent him forward 30 years. Various people have had children, got married, divorced,remarried, moved, and some have died. I have not hid the latter and he seems to cope with it, even though one of them is his dad. It is obvious to him that some people will not be alive if he is now 52. I don't know how much of this will be remembered tomorrow, but he spent another hour tonight looking at the book, and it really does seem to help. He asked me if we had children and about his mum and my parents. I am still going to have to do some serious sifting of all the photos we have here to find the most pertinent ones. Perhaps I will just do a few each day. Its no good just having a picture it needs a label with it e.g. " our house" etcetc.

He ate lunch quietly at a normal table ( its OK for him - I sit and eat my pack lunch while he wolfs down a 3-course meal!) without any strange behaviours ( but then salt and pepper were not provided today)

Around 1.30pm Chris Wilkinson arrived with his guitar and the two sat down and played for nearly two hours going through around a dozen of Chris's songs which he had printed out with words and chords. However, Andrew seemed to be able to remember most of the guitar parts without much prompting (or no more than normal), and did some pretty good solos. Amazing. He even attempted to sing faintly on one (his voice is still weak), but I think he was reading the words for this.

Then he had a succession of visitors including Martin and Cinta, the real Michael Chapman ( see yesterdays blog) and his wife Sally, Ned, and later Peter Flint. All recognised immediately. He continued to play guitar on and off for most of the afternoon, but at the end got suddenly very tired and I walked him off to his bed, where I left him expecting at least an hours sleep. However, when the food came around 15 mins later I came back to the room to find him up, in the chair and polishing off the first course, looking very bright.

Tonight leaving was very hard and I have had to promise that I will come back tomorrow several times. It must be terrifying to lose your memory and not know where you are, or when it is. If I could move in there and stay with him I would.

On arrival home I found a wheat free pasta dish in the porch - thank you Hannah.

Several people have asked about his treatment. He is getting aspirin, statins for cholesterol and something like "copraxol" which everyone tells me is a painkiller, though he doesn't have any pain.

Thank you all for all your messages of support; in particular I would like to say thank you to those who have been able to offer specific help with memory/stroke problems, which I may well need when Andrew comes home. I have, in a small way, also been able to offer a little support to the wife of the 40-something man in the bed opposite (also called Andrew) who was admitted yesterday and who is therefore approx 1 week behind me in this strange and frightening journey.

Gill