It’s been over eight years since Mitchell, a former NHS manager, was diagnosed with young-onset dementia at the age of 58. Thankfully, her disease has progressed slowly: Mitchell is still able to live independently in a village in East Yorkshire, with help from her daughters, Sarah and Gemma, who live close by. It is said that only 7 per cent of our communication is verbal. Fifty-five per cent of it is body language and 38 per cent is tone of voice. I know that as I sat with my dying mother, there was no need for any words at all. The touch of my hand on hers in that moment said everything there was left to say. She just needed to know that I was close, and that she wouldn’t be alone when death finally came to claim her. This is a book whose purpose is to convert despair into hope . . . A kind of how-to manual for people with the condition and those who support them. It proceeds by a practical and calming formula: take a difficulty and find a way to overcome it. Running under all the commonsense pieces of advice is a deeper and more existential message, one for all of us, young and old, in health or frailty: be kind, be attentive, be resilient, bend with change rather than be broken by it, connect, forgive, accept, embrace. Live. I was a bit like everyone else who thought it was only older people who got a diagnosis, so when I started having all of these strange symptoms, dementia never entered my head as a possible cause. I was thinking it was a brain tumour, or anything but dementia, so when it was mentioned in passing, that was a bolt from the blue.” When did you begin to realise something was wrong?

I had to make sure that I didn't leave the kitchen, I didn't get distracted, and when I succeeded, that egg sandwich tasted divine." It was obviously very devastating, but it was also, bizarrely, a relief because it finally gave me a name for what was happening to me – ending all the ifs, buts and maybes. I knew what I was dealing with and could plan my life around finding out as much as I could.” What surprised you the most about the way in which clinicians deal with those with dementia? Wendy goes to greet her daughter who has just come home from work. ‘Gemma and I catch up on the day. Twenty minutes must pass by like that and then Billy jumps down from my lap and sniffs at his empty bowl and sits, staring at it. “Ah no, I must have forgotten.” Gemma looks at him, unsure. Worried about a planned hospital stay? Looking for advice on choosing a care home that's right for you or a loved one? Our free, confidential, national phone service is open 8am-7pm, 365 days a year. Wendy regularly travels to conferences and events giving talks on dementia and has written a bestselling memoir about her experiences called Somebody I Used to Know. More recently she wrote What I Wish People Knew About Dementia: From Someone Who Knows. What is early onset dementia?She is determined to reduce the stigma around the disease and encourage others to take part in clinical trials and research. When people think of dementia, they immediately associate it with memory. Few people realise, for example, just how it changes our relationships with our senses, our emotions, our communication. Few people understand the importance of a good environment – both inside and out – after a dementia diagnosis, and the small changes that can make a big difference. Unless you tell them, or talk about it, people will never know the difference dementia makes to your relationships – and how to make them work better. And if you don’t know any of this at all, how can you be responsible for your attitude?”

But I am exhausted, from the thrill of it more than anything Standing on the top of an aeroplane and going in the sky and turning upside down - that sounds wonderful." Notes on Reading The author has early onset (60s) dementia. It has robbed her of a lot of her ability to do things - she can't speak with fluency, can't eat with a knife and fork, can't remember what she's put in the microwave, can't remember she put anything in at all. But her ability to type has not been affected at all, the tangles and plaques have not reached that part of her brain, so she communicates as well as she ever did. Dementia isn't a consequence of growing old, but the risk of dementia increases with age. Most people who are affected by dementia are over 65, but there are many, like Wendy, who show symptoms when younger. Dementia camouflages itself until the neurological damage is well underway. There is no cure. Unlike with cancer, the diagnosis comes without aftercare. Despite the fact that it afflicts one inI have to say I didn't enjoy this book as much as Wendy Mitchell's first, Somebody I Used to Know. This one is somewhat repetitive. For enjoyment I would give it 3.5 stars but because of what I learned, and because I am amazed that she was able to write both books since her diagnosis of Alzheimers, it is a 5 star. In the UK, dementia now affects one in 14 people over the age of 65 and one in six over 80. If not directly impacted by dementia, most people know a friend or family member who has been affected.

I can change the world” stuff into a bin somewhere. That’s the past now; that ain’t going to happen. It’s difficult to accept that, but I think it’s an important part of why our feelings settle a bit when we have dementia. We no longer have that pressure of a future on us. I care less about what I should care about; if it’s not in my heart or head, it’s not happening. So I’m not going to put myself out to pretend it is.’ 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. 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. Her aim is to share what she has learned so far, in the hope that ‘it will help you to live the best life you are able to with the disease, or support someone you know far better’. Wendy has released a second book, called 'What I Wish People Knew About Dementia', which looks at the many misconceptions people have about life with dementia.Five years before passing away, my grandma was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Although our family has genetics of dementia, we often denied that it will be passed down through the family. Here's how, with your support, Age UK is supporting older people through the cost of living crisis.

This achieves just what it sets out to: give a picture of dementia from the inside. As it’s not a narrative, it’s probably best read in small doses, but there are some great stories along the way, like the epilogue’s account of her skydive to raise money for Young Dementia UK. Peter says, ‘I thought I knew quite a lot about dementia having had it thrust into my life in 1990, but I have learned an amazing amount from this book on many simple aspects of a person’s daily life with dementia. ‘I only wish it had been available to me all those years ago when dealing with my father’s dementia. If it had, I would not have made so many mistakes. I hope others discover it in time to help their present situations.’ 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.” There was no social support available – ironically, even less so for those with young-onset dementia. But there are so many husbands, wives, sons and daughters who are thrown into the new role of ‘carer’, the weight and expectation of society imposed immediately on them with no preparation, no planning, no warnings handed out alongside this life-changing diagnosis. ” Like Somebody I Used to Know, this is a book of hope. But there is a sense of intense labour, struggle and pain behind Mitchell’s pieces of advice and consolation. I can’t begin to imagine the how hard she has to work to be the Wendy Mitchell she has forged out of her illness – the one who has become a beacon of hope for thousands of people who live with dementia, who seeks joy in small things, takes adventures where she finds them, is open to her own vulnerability and humorous in the face of implacable decline (laughter is her best medicine). Yet she says that, in spite of the “haze” in her brain, in spite of the effort and weariness, in spite of times of confusion and distress, in spite of knowing she is edging towards the darkness, in spite of all she has lost and continues to lose, she is in many ways happier now than she has ever been, liberated from the shyer, more self-conscious and timid self of that somebody she used to know.

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 have taken her advice and created a room where I can feels calm and happy, with family photos, a warm blanket, and a cup of tea, especially on days when my legs don't want to work as they should. Everyone is an individual, so when you meet one person with dementia, you’ve met only one person with dementia. Some things work for some people and don’t work for others. However, I always think that recording now, in whatever way is possible for you, is a legacy for your children and their children – and other generations. I find it a very comforting idea.” What impact do you hope the book has on others? When [Anna and I] talked about end of life, at that point I hadn’t discussed it with my daughters. It was important that I had the conversation with my daughters first before I had the conversation with Anna and we wrote about it. I’m still a mum, first and foremost, so I wanted to make sure they were happy with the sections they were included in, so they would read those sections and either approve or not approve [them]. It was a very open process between us all.” Pre-diagnosis, did you think you’d ever write a book? Wendy also explains how, when confronted with a flight of stairs, she needs first to decipher whether she is approaching an escalator or a slide. If the steps are all the same colour, she has no idea where to put her feet. Patterned carpet is the worst.