Doctor reveals his life in the shadow of schizophrenia
I remember Grandpa Larry’s visits remarkably vividly. He would lumber into the house hunched over, grunting loudly and reeking of cigarettes.
He was unshaven and haggard, with wild grey-black hair streaking out horizontally from the sides of his head.
He would rock and turn uncomfortably until he could find a chair, then once seated would begin rhythmically swaying back and forth.
He spoke in a flat, rough voice. He had considerable difficulty getting words out.
Grandpa Larry rarely made eye contact,