Last year I had a rare night out catching up with some former colleagues over a drink and a bite to eat. Whilst it was great to see them I felt for the main part that they were tiptoeing around me and wondered whether I had a neon tattoo on my head emblazoned with the words “fragile; dementia carer please handle with care”. One of the husbands of the other girls was in remission from cancer and they all expressed concern over his recovery and yet in much the same way as Voldemort is referred to in the famous Harry Potter novels as “he who must not be named” dementia in many social situations becomes the elephant in the room. Now I’m not blaming my friends as I know it’s a difficult subject to broach and frankly some of the behaviours of many dementia sufferers scare the bejesus out of most of us but here’s the thing; it currently effects 850,000 people in the UK alone and by 2025 it will be over a million so chances are everybody at some point will know someone struggling with dementia.
Make no mistake Alzheimer’s is a killer and a destructive force in the lives of many, in much the same way as Motor Neurone, Parkinson’s, Cancer and any other progressive illness. There is no get out of jail card once you have been diagnosed and there is no recovery for this marauding killer that steals your loved ones right in front of you, piece by heartbreaking piece. One of the most bittersweet moments of my struggle was that I did not travel the old fella’s dementia journey alone for my bestie Barbs, was also fighting her own battle with her father who was also diagnosed last year. We’ve laughed & cried together, vented, raged against the injustice we have suffered at the hands of the social care system and shared advice in navigating the treacherous waters of Alzheimer’s but both of us have also sadly discovered that many of our other friends not knowing what to say to us have ended up saying nothing at all. Frankly, are we any less worthy of compassion simply because our loved ones no longer have the mental capacity that they used to. Is it any wonder that so many dementia carers feel isolated and alone?
So can I ask you to do just one thing for me today for all the families lacing up their boots to face another day of battle in their war against dementia; ask them how they are, drop them an email, write them a card, give them a call, offer to meet them for coffee or pop over to their house with a bottle of wine. Granted, Alzheimer’s has some appalling symptoms and causes sufferers to do fairly uncharacteristic things but I promise you, it’s not infectious and you can’t catch it. So go on be a good friend in the life of a dementia carer today after all what’s stopping you?