After my sister’s visit yesterday I suddenly thought how dementia has almost become my life.  On reflection it is an unhelpful approach to life.  My thought pattern goes something like this:  as we age things happen in our lives; illness, death and divorce to mention just a few.  Everyone has their share of misfortune.  There is now a great danger that I present a ‘poor me’ to visitors and that can’t be my fun when they spend time here.

I can recall one of my daughter’s saying following a visit: ‘I thought we would have some quality time’.  She makes a fair point.   Why does she want to here grief from her dad when she has been kind enough to visit?  Particularly when M is not even her birth mother.  The same with my sister yesterday – she hasn’t come here to listen to my trials and tribulations: she has plenty to deal with in her own life.

Must tie a knot in my handkerchief and remember the positives.  Stroke can lead to drastic outcomes: M has been relatively lucky.  We are both still here and we can think of lots of others who wish they had the same good fortune.