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I’m having to find the strength to ask for help, and this is not an easy task for me.

This morning it came to me. When after I had my meditation and quiet time. Some … not problem, maybe challenge or issue that I’ve been thinking about. And it’s one of the losses, the many losses of what happened to me when I was given the diagnosis of dementia. 

Before I was diagnosed I was an independent go-getter, a leader. And I managed to keep a lot  f this independence and leadership for the first four years, five years of my dementia, but now I realise that I’m needing assistance more and more. And I’m having to find the strength to ask for help, and this is not an easy task for me. To ask for help. When I ask for assistance, is it a sign of giving into my dementia? Is it a sign that I am a weak human being? Am I stigmatising myself by having these thoughts? 

What I do know is that if I want to live in my home for a couple of years more, I really need more  assistance. That’s why my daughter Donna had to give up her life abroad and come home, because she realised I was not getting any assistance, and I was struggling. And for her mum to remain independent longer, she would need to be around more. Not living with me, no, not that, but she’d give me a gentle touch. I remember someone telling me when they took over a  position that he was going to insure that people got gentle touch. You do, what I was needing. There’s no gentle touch for me. I’m at five years, six years ago, no gentle touch for me. I’m not sick enough for gentle touch, I’m not needy enough. Maybe I’m just one of the band of people with dementia who shrug and just get on with it. 

Anyway, back to my asking inability to ask for help. My neighbour had a stroke. She was a very  feisty, independent woman. And I watched her, and now she’s getting help to be dressed. Tears streamed down my eyes this morning because I realised that will be me too. Yes I know that I can, and I will, do the task when it comes with the help of my daughter Donna. I believe it’s coming faster than I’d like, but I know that together my daughter will help me come. 

I’ve also realised don’t look for help from the professionals, because nine years into my  dementia and I realise that every time I’ve asked for help, it’s been refused. I don’t expect help now. I’m one of the band that just get on with it.

An audio version of this blog can be accessed at: https://soundcloud.com/dementia-diaries/agnes-1-nottingham-uni