Friday 26 October 2018

Shhhhhh...



In my first blog I touched on my gran’s journey with Alzheimer’s disease. The second blog was about how the disease impacted on our family. For this blog I am going to talk about the disease itself and the stigma attached to it.

What do I mean by a stigma? According to the Collins English Dictionary, ‘If something has a stigma attached to it, people think it is something to be ashamed of’. Maybe being ashamed of it is a bit strong but I think we were all guilty of denying that gran had Alzheimer’s. Maybe this is because we didn’t want gran to be thought of as ‘gyte’.

For some reason Alzheimer’s has a stigma attached to it when other diseases don’t. Why?

We were all guilty of not ‘owning up’ to the disease. Nobody suggested to gran that she might have dementia – how on earth are you supposed to bring that into the conversation? Gran knew her memory was poor. She went to a memory clinic but on the day ‘passed’ the tests, fooling the professionals!! I think that my gran deep down was determined not to be diagnosed with dementia. If we had all known more about this disease, we would’ve been better prepared for what lay ahead. As it was, we all pretended for as long as we could that it was just a bad memory that she had.

Back to the stigma. Alzheimer’s is nothing to be embarrassed about. Scared of or worried about, yes but not embarrassed about. As with any disease, the earlier it is diagnosed the better it can be treated so it is really important to be aware and sympathetic of the disease and its symptoms.

The Alzheimer’s Association talks about overcoming this stigma and focuses on 5 different ways to do this. They say to talk about the disease openly, to dispel misconceptions, to have a closely knitted network of friends and family or other support group, to challenge people’s denial of the disease and to encourage the people who are diagnosed with the disease to speak out and raise awareness. You can read more about this here.

If you find yourself in the same position I was, knowing something wasn’t right I hope my blog encourages you to find out more in the early stages because this will definitely help in the long run. My next blog is about what we did when things took a real turn for the worst.


The Silent Assassin


The Silent Assassin

Alzheimer’s disease – the silent assassin. It creeps up and kills relationships, at least as we knew them. Gran is still a wife, a mum and a gran. Just not the same wife, mum and gran. The disease has changed these relationships almost beyond recognition.

Alzheimer’s changes people. They are no longer the people they once were. The brain is such a complex thing – it’s impossible to know just exactly what has been taken away. What is clear though is the effect on the people that are around them.

My Grandad has, in essence, has lost his wife. He doesn’t see it that way – he still sees her every day and has adapted to her changes. The relationship they have now bares no resemblance to the one they had. My Grandad would laughingly admit he was “punching” by landing my gran! She wore the trousers in the relationship. The effects of this disease has left a massive hole in his world.




Gran in her heyday – Grandad was 100% punching above his weight.



My dad has lost his mum. Not physically. He visits her all the time. But mentally. She was his biggest supporter. His greatest fan. He was her blue-eyed boy. Now he thinks a good day is when she smiles when he visits.

I’ve lost my gran. The tables have turned. From her looking after me as a wee boy, I find myself wanting to look after her. I don’t see her as often as I would like. Sometimes she engages but sometimes she doesn’t. Today was a good day. She gave me a smile, took my face in her hands and told me she missed me. I’m not sure that she knew it was me but it made me happy.

The only way to deal with this disease is not to mourn the relationship that has been taken away but to embrace the relationship that now exists. It has not been an easy transition but over time it has worked for me. I can continue to enjoy the time I still have with her and not let the disease define our relationship.