My dad has dementia and until recently so too did my uncle. Two fine men that I have always loved and looked up to. 

It's not easy to find the words that explain how awful it is, but an interview with actor Christopher Eccleston says it so well. 

This is the Eccleston's story:

“My dad’s dementia started with short-term memory problems, he’d forget season tickets when we went to Old Trafford. He became obsessed with the length of the grass at my house and tell me that we needed to cut the hedges. He’d say it again and again in a loop, and I’d snap at him because at the time I didn’t understand. 

He threw me out of his house on Christmas Day. He didn’t know who I was. I was on his territory and I made him feel afraid, so he got me out of the house. I needed to leave, so he could be more comfortable. My mum, Elsie, was very upset, but that wasn’t dad, that was his condition.

The most traumatic experience is when people realise they’re ill. I saw my father pass through that and fight it with all his will. Once at my brother’s house he knocked over a cup of tea. My brother said it was fine, but my father’s embarrassment and anxiety escalated to the point where he was on his knees, repeating: ‘What’s happening to me, what’s happening to me? I’m Ronnie Eccleston!’ It was devastating.

I eventually learned that instead of trying to pull people with dementia into our world, you must enter theirs. From that moment on I stopped insisting I was his son and became his friend. When I saw him, I would say, “Hello pal, how you doing?” I became quite playful and would endlessly quote Shakespeare and see the same flicker of passion in his eyes as when he'd read poetry to me years before. He’d say, “Bloody hell! How do you remember all that?” I salvaged a loving relationship and, for my brothers and me, it could even be quite humorous. 

But for my mother it was so much more complex. Elsie cared for my dad for 14 years, and she would be embarrassed, and think I was being over the top, by using a word like devoted, but she was. She married the man and felt it was her job to care for him. I know that if the boot was on the other foot he’d have done the same. My father was fastidious about his appearance and personal hygiene but he lost the ability to do that for himself. So, my mum did those things for him, and she was happy to do it. One day, she asked him, “Ronnie, do you know who I am?” and he said, “I don’t know, but I love you."

Dad was stripped of his identity, unable to recognise his family, the disease completely dismantled his personality.

My mum needed support. She needed understanding. She said the saddest day of her life was when she had to put him in a home. She’s the most caring person on the planet, but it was an emotional, practical and physical grind. Carers are not recognised enough for the financial and practical support they provide. Elsie did get some respite, but it was difficult because he always wanted her there and she’d suffer when they were apart. 

Dementia is a growing problem and we need families and carers to be educated, supported and understood. Research is important so that we can find out how factors such as diabetes, diet and stress can contribute, and so that we can educate ourselves about how to prevent this illness.

I feel such sympathy for everyone who endures this disease or sees a loved one endure it."

Dementia is set to be the 21st century’s biggest killer. 

It’s the only one of the top ten causes of death in the UK that we can’t prevent, cure or even slow down. There is currently no cure for any of the neurodegenerative conditions that give rise to dementia - a collection of dizzyingly complex conditions each with multiple potential causes, very few of which are clearly known. Researchers across the globe are working together to tackle the many questions that surround dementia. 

Please let's help them.


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