Alzheimer's up close and personal

On a completely different note ( possibly a weekend blog post only)...
My lovely Mum has Alzheimer's. She is 81. A few weeks ago she told us she was 90. The first signs I noticed other than being forgetful (which most of us are at times) was that she had 4 or 5 jars of the same thing in the cupboard. When she moved into a home 18 months ago I found 7 pairs of new gardening gloves in a drawer. For someone who disliked gardening most of her life that's not bad!

The process of getting a diagnosis was horrible for both of us. A pleasant team of assessment health professionals decended (in surprisingly quick response to a request, given the time I had to wait to see a doctor last time I tried) and wheels were set in motion. The first step was a diagnosis at a Memory Clinic. I was told that if Mum went there she would be assessed and if a form of dementia were suspected she would be given "strategies to manage". Apart from the diagnosing doctor whose manner was atrocious . Just face it dear. Your mother has dementia. It will get worse. I can't be certain [forgotten!] if those were the exact words but it was the tone. People were pleasant but I have yet to see the strategies to manage. There were requests to do a risk assessment of the house - fair enough. There was a letter to ask her to do a driving test assessment to check she could drive safely- again fair enough. But there was no warning that these were the automatic responses from attending a memory clinic and having - let's face it a fairly subjective assessment.

It's hard to say what someone else, even someone close to you, is thinking. Mum's reaction was sadness. I think that was sadness for the future. She was aware enough to know what that was likely to be. She cried quietly in the car going home.