Broken...

I generally try to keep the blog upbeat. Partly, because there's already enough bad news in the world, and partly because I believe that by actively being happy you can become happy, if you know what I mean. However, sometimes things aren't so rosy, and last week was a classic in the not so rosy stakes.

My dad is 93 and has dementia. It's been pretty rapid. Last Christmas he spent up here, mainly ok. Fast forward five months and he was to all intents and purposes lost to the world. And for the last three months he's really 'not been my dad anymore.' Yet at the same time he still is. He looks the same, sounds the same, smells the same. Yet something is missing. It's like he sits on a bridge between all that he was in his life and all that he will be in his death and beyond.

Dementia is cruel. It takes those you love and leaves just a corporeal shell. Ripping out the part that you knew, their identity. It leaves those that suffer from it broken, and those around it can break too.

But that's not the only thing that's broken. The system is. Nothing works how it did. Old mad people don't really matter anymore. Don't get me wrong, everyone does 'their bit'... But nothing works holistically. There's masses of buck passing and it's really all about budgets and who's paying. The humanity for those demented humans is lost. Last week I also felt lost, at sea in a system that doesn't seem to really care anymore, trying to fight for my Dad. We must find a way to do better for our loved ones suffering from dementia. It's a disease to be treated not a problem to be passed on.

Still, after one of my worst weeks in my 50 years there are a few lights at the end of the tunnel. After 24 care homes refused to take my Dad, now there is one that just might. And it looks lovely. There's also good folk out there trying to support families affected by dementia, and carers that do genuinely care. So fingers crossed, not everything is broken...

Dad