Extreme Knitting Redhead: World Alzheimer's Day

Friday, September 21, 2012

World Alzheimer's Day

Today is the 18th World Alzheimer's Day.

It makes me sad that dementia has become such a problem that it has to have a special day but at least it is spoken about more openly now.

People often ask me now why I am still campaigning 7 years after my mum died and it's simple - so little has changed since I first started out on my journey. Research into this devastating disease is still desperately under-funded but at least David Cameron has listened and has promised to make it a priority.

I would like to be able to focus on the good times with my mum but I know in my heart that I must still tell her story so that others become aware of how dreadful dementia is both for the person themselves and for those around them.

Today I shall be remembering how ghastly it was for my mum as she descended into the dark world of dementia and thinking of all those who are suffering now, together with their families and friends.

I miss you mum.

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Mum's Story

In 1997 my mother, then aged 81, had a series of minor strokes. Shortly after that we started to notice behavioural changes notably memory loss and confusion over everyday items. We thought it was just old age finally catching up with her. Then she started wandering and had violent mood swings. Although she already lived with us it became obvious that she couldn't be left alone for long and so I left my job to care for her. The next few years saw a gradual decline into the blackness that is 'vascular dementia'. My normally placid mum became violent and aggressive. She had psychotic incidents where she would see imaginary people (children hiding in her wardrobe, Russians sitting on the stairs, women stealing her clothes) and she would shout at them and sometimes throw things too. She was so convincing that we used to go and check that there wasn't anyone there! When my sister died mum did not know who Judy was or that she was her daughter. There came a point when I suddenly realised she no longer knew that I was her daughter and this was a terrible time for me. In the last 2 years that she lived with us, life for us all became almost unbearable as she needed 24 hour care - she couldn't be left alone at all because she would either wander off or hurt herself, she never slept for more than 30 minutes at a time during the night, she became incontinent and incapable of doing anything for herself. Finally my husband and I realised that we could no longer provide her with the care that she needed and she went to live in a special care home where the team did a splendid job caring for her in the last few months of her life. There she lived a zombified existence unaware of who she was, what she was or where she was. It was heartbreaking. She died in March 2005, the day after her 89th birthday.

Thank you for taking the time to read mum's story and I hope you'll dig deep and sponsor me using the link below to help find a way of beating this destructive disease.