What I Wish People Knew About Dementia: From Someone Who Knows

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Wendy Mitchell, whois living with early onset dementia, was given a “sad look” by the doctor who diagnosed her with the disease at the age of 58, leading her to believe her life as she knew it was over. I used to worry and try to fix things for everybody before, but I don’t tend to worry about anything now. I get anxious about it, but I think, “I can’t do anything about it now,” so I tend not to try and fix things for others. I had a bad accident before my dementia – I got hit by a car – and from then I learned things were out of my control. I do worry about my family, but I don’t worry about life or myself. I don’t worry about my future, whereas I used to before.” The first symptoms of the brain disease that is destroying my mother and derailing our family became apparent seven years ago. It had probably been lurking around, undetected, far longer than that. How could I give a book less than five stars when it is about the lived experience of someone with dementia? To say ‘the book could be better’ would be like saying ‘you could be leading your life better’. Impossible. For someone with dementia to apply themselves with such determination to produce any book let alone this fantastic book, is incredible. Though it is sad that the author, Wendy Mitchell has the condition, it is in having the condition and how she has responded to it that Wendy has produced her life’s work. Wendy’s life has been more than worthwhile because of the way she has helped others understand dementia.

My community] make me feel safe enough to go walking wherever I want to. If I get disorientated, I can just ask the next smiley face coming towards me and say I'm having a bit of a bad day. Would you point me in the direction of my home, please?'" When dementia is really giving me a hard time, I'll ask my younger self what would you do? Because I know how strong she was, I know how organised she was, and I know how resilient she was. And that just helps me to cope with the bad moments." Wendy also writes of others she knows who live with dementia, of devices that can help, of finding joy in the present. Dementia may be an irreversible neurological condition, of relentless decline but there can still be enjoyment in life. Wendy is proof of that.But I felt there was still so much laughing left to do. I call all this my suduko as it keeps my brain active being in lots of different environments and meeting lots of different people.” people over the age of 60 and one in six people over the age of 80, we have very little understanding of what it is like for those who have this cursed condition. Wendy hopes What I Wish People Knew About Dementia will help show the condition is about much more than memory loss. I don’t remember how long I had been chewing, or how much longer I needed to chew. The result was, too many times, choking on food that I had not ground down enough before attempting to swallow. It’s hard enough to concentrate on eating without the extra effort it takes to cut and chew. Meat had to go, and was replaced by fish.” She also writes about the role that family members play in a dementia patient’s life. It is important for both patient and his/her carer to know what dementia is, and the toll it inflicts on the patient and those who care for them. Mitchell also gives hope that dementia patients are still capable of living alone. But one needs to take precautions; and also maintain connections to the world.

You may also opt to downgrade to Standard Digital, a robust journalistic offering that fulfils many user’s needs. Compare Standard and Premium Digital here. When I was working I was as guilty as anybody of wishing for the weekend, wishing for the next holiday, wishing for the end of the shift, but dementia has taught me to appreciate now and to actually stop and look around… you see far more beauty than if you just dash around here and there. You're missing some magic moments." Wendy emphasises that everyone is different,’ says Caroline, ‘just as they all were before dementia. In this book, she includes other people’s experiences as well as her own.’It's impossible not to be inspired, and also challenged, by this latest account of her life and what dementia has taught her Wendy admits that: “When I walk out of here today I will forget the details but I will remember the emotions.” Wendy continues to amaze me, 6 years after her dementia diagnosis she is more active than ever, campaigning for better dementia care, educating healthcare professionals and being an amazing advocate/ambassador for dementia patients! This book offers a positive approach to deal with people with dementia from a fresh perspective. That we shouldn't demand 'em to give up on themselves, and treat 'em differently by defining them by their disease. The text also includes anonymous input from her friends with dementia, and excerpts from recent academic research on what can help. Mitchell and others with Alzheimer’s often feel written off by their doctors – her diagnosis appointment was especially pessimistic – but her position is that the focus should be on what people can still do and adaptations that will improve their everyday lives. Mitchell lives alone in a small Yorkshire village and loves documenting the turning of the seasons through photographs she shares on social media. She notes that it’s important for people to live in the moment and continue finding activities that promote a flow state, a contrast to some days that pass in a brain haze.

All through my younger years, I was guilty of wishing for the next weekend, the next holiday. Dementia has taught me to stop, look and enjoy what’s in front of me, to enjoy the ‘now’ things. There’s beauty in simple things, from a bird in a tree, to an object you love. Never give up on yourself – others will do that for you. You never know what opportunities will come, and if this moment isn’t a good moment, the next one might be wonderful. People assumed because I had been diagnosed with dementia, I had immediately jumped to the late stage of dementia. Dementia is such a vast spectrum. Some days I have bad brain fog but I know if today is bad then tomorrow will be better. In allowing her friends to speak about their own experiences, she offers the reader practical guidance on how people with dementia actually want to be viewed and treated, alongside an important reminder that it’s better to ask a person what they’re living through than arrogantly assume you already know.Patterned carpets are completely disorientating because all the shapes just seem to come alive, moving around in front of my eyes. It can be very disconcerting to be asked to walk across a carpet that looks as though it’s covered with wriggling creatures, and because many of us with dementia have a wobbly gait, we tend to spend a lot of time looking at the floor to make sure we don’t fall over.” When you’ve met one person with dementia, you’ve simply met one person with dementia. We’re as different as we all we before dementia.’ Communication, Wendy reminds us, need not always be verbal, but it is important to keep talking, even when there is a confused response. After all, we chatter lovingly to babies despite the fact that they can’t understand us. I was never a very tactile person. Dementia changed that: suddenly I found myself wanting to hug everyone that I met, or at least the people who I knew by instinct that I liked. I see people as kind or not kind, and for those who show kindness, in return I wanted to hug them to show my gratitude. Their kindness means much more than they can imagine. I suddenly found myself hanging on to my daughters for longer and harder. Was it lost inhibitions that were to blame? A new neediness I hadn’t been brave enough to admit to? Or perhaps a hug represents an inner emotional reserve: maybe touch cuts through moments when words grow complicated or hard to find, instantly communicating that someone cares.” The author's ability to write at a professional level was not affected in any way, she could type out her thoughts perfectly and wrote two books, this the second. She could travel around the country, taking pictures everywhere so she could see visually where she was, where she should be and where she had to return to and then give a speech. She couldn't speak off the cuff, but could read what she had typed out. Hence her miraculous-seeming ability to write this book and read it for the audio edition which I had.