Tag Archives: dementia
Daughter angry about closure of Norfolk dementia care unit
A concerned daughter has blasted Norfolk County Council’s plans to close a dementia unit in Blofield which she says has made a huge difference to her mother’s life.
David Freezer Wednesday, September 5, 2012
9:20 AM
A concerned daughter has blasted Norfolk County Council’s plans to close a dementia unit in Blofield which she says has made a huge difference to her mother’s life.
Allison Little, from Neatishead, is unhappy with the county council’s reasoning for closing the Stocks Lane Day Centre in Blofield – which, as reported in Saturday’s Norwich Evening News, is due to happen this autumn.
Ms Little’s 82-year-old mother, also from Neatishead, attends the day centre five days a week as she has Alzheimer’s disease.
Woman with early-onset dementia writes diary detailing care wishes
A husband who “lost” his wife to early-onset dementia can now care for her the way she always wanted after discovering her secret diaries written before she fell ill.
By Andrew Hough
3:30PM BST 03 Sep 2012
When Steve Boryszczuk made the difficult decision to place his wife of almost three decades in a home to help care for her early-onset dementia, he was heartbroken.
Mr Boryszczuk, 47, had cared for Michelle for four years at their home in Wickenby, Lincs, after she was diagnosed aged just 39 with the disease.
But last year the mother-of-two’s condition became too difficult to manage, forcing her devoted husband to make the devastating decision to put her in a care home.
Arlene Phillips: Caring for my father with dementia was extremely difficult
Choreographer Arlene Phillips, 69, is best known for being a judge on Strictly Come Dancing. She cared for her father, Abraham, when he developed dementia in his late seventies.
The first sign that my father was suffering from dementia came when he started getting lost. He’d arrive at my door – I only lived ten minutes away – and he’d say: ‘I can’t find my front door.’ I put my phone number in every suit he had. Occasionally, someone would phone and say: ‘Your father wants to know how to get home.’ One day, he had a pan on the cooker with a tin inside – if I hadn’t visited it would have exploded.
There were more signs things weren’t right. He’d forgotten how to cook so I’d take meals to him. He’d say things had been stolen. I’d say they weren’t, he just couldn’t find them. The council sent a visitor but he wouldn’t let them in – he was paranoid about who they were and why they were there.
It started in the early 1990s when he was in his late seventies and went on until he passed away in 2000. I was a single mother raising my daughter and looking after my father at the same time. It was extremely difficult. I thought I could be Superwoman and look after him, my daughter and do my job but it wasn’t the case. I’d see him in the morning before I went to work. I’d make sure he had a lunch delivered then, in my break at 5pm, I’d make him a meal before going back to the theatre where I was choreographing a musical, finishing at 11pm. I was exhausted and felt I wasn’t doing the best for him.
I visited one day, he had the gas hob on, reached for something and set his sleeve on fire. We bashed the flames out but that was the point I realised this couldn’t go on and had to find him a care home. Even then I’d visit every day so he wouldn’t feel abandoned.
His illness was a gradual process. He said it was like going into a tunnel and the further he got down it the more he left something of himself behind. It was extremely distressing because I couldn’t give him back what he’d lost. As it went on, it began to affect him physically. It was as if he’d forgotten how to use his hands. He read lots of books, poetry and the Guardian cover to cover. He stopped. I would read to him but eventually he didn’t like that either because he couldn’t make sense of the words.
