I was quite alarmed to receive a text message on Friday night, whilst I was out on Dave’s stag do, that said Cousin Iain was in hospital after suffering a suspected stroke.
I know you don’t have to be old and busted to have a stroke, but Cousin Iain was only 30 in January and is in fairly good shape (round is a shape!), so I immediately called Fliss to get more details. Fliss only knew what she’d learned from my mum, which, being honest, is never really the best way to get a clear picture of events. Most of my mum’s stories are epics – epics directed by Michael Bay, at that.
Hence I decided to call Nicola (Cousin Iain’s hot chick!) as soon as I was clear of a pub and the rest of the mob. She explained what had happened and quelled my fears somewhat, as it turned out that he hadn’t quite suffered a stroke, but was experiencing some numbness of his left side that was cause enough for concern. There wasn’t much more to learn, other than that he was back in for tests in a couple of days and we’d find out more then.
It was quite a relief to know Iain wasn’t at death’s door, so I got on with the rest of the evening at the stag do without being too worried. Well, I was a little concerned that he might not recover in time for the Great British Beer Festival in a couple of weeks, but it seemed silly to panic just yet. 😉
Anyhow, Nicola texted me today to let me know that they’d found out what was wrong with Iain and that he’d be taking a course of antibiotics through the week. That and he’d most likely be fixed by the time I travel down for the beer festival in a week. Good news all round – hopefully Iain will be fighting fit by the time I arrive. 🙂