Martin Dewhurst - Another Cup of Tea: Diary of a dementia carer

Another Cup of Tea

First published in 2020 by

Panoma Press Ltd

48 St Vincent Drive, St Albans, Herts, AL1 5SJ, UK

www.panomapress.com

Book layout by Neil Coe.

978-1-784524-40-1

The right of Martin Dewhurst to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any material form (including photocopying or storing in any medium by electronic means and whether or not transiently or incidentally to some other use of this publication) without the written permission of the copyright holder except in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. Applications for the copyright holders written permission to reproduce any part of this publication should be addressed to the publishers.

This book is available online and in bookstores.

Copyright 2019 Martin Dewhurst

Dedicated to a loving Mum

Lillian Joan Dewhurst

1st April 1927 18th October 2019

To Mum and Dad. To my partner Carol. To my children Owen and Alex.

To brother Robin, sister-in-law Jan and their children Beth and Josh. To David and Eileen. To family, friends and neighbours who called on Mum throughout her illness. To Jeanie and Peter.

To Edie and the wonderful team of staff and nurses at Macclesfield General Hospital. To Belinda.

To the carers from Helping Hands and Carers Trust.

To Mindy, Elaine, Tracy, Chris, Mark and Babs. To Elaine. To Ken. To Susan and all the staff at Woodlands Care Home.

And finally, to all whove helped bring this diary to life.

In the final stages of his bringing this book to life, I shared a message of support with Martin. It was an honest reflection on what I had been privileged to observe from the sidelines, and through many conversations with Martin, as he cared for and loved his mum along her fog-bound journey to that distant horizon and shores unknown where a new dawn awaited her.

If you find yourself reading this as you are in a similar place to where Martin was, you are about to be lifted, inspired and awed by the story of a boy and his mum, because as men, when we are in the company of our mum, no matter our age, we always remain deep down, just that, a boy and his mum.

When supporting grieving clients (in my capacity as a Clinical Hypnotherapist and Psychotherapist) who have experienced a sudden loss, and find themselves held hostage to the If only I could have and What if I had I have often shared the reference point from author Jamie Anderson:

Grief, Ive learned, is really just love. Its all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.

But not everyone who loses a loved one find themselves suffering from grief. When the loss is a long slow gradual affair, where they have the chance to say all the things they want to say and share all the love they have to share, that love finds its way home every time!

Through his loving heart, honest courage and the compassionate words, Martin tells the story of a son who loved his mum, and in the telling of his story through the pages of Another Cup of Tea he will, I am sure, be the light for many to find the strength they need to navigate their own journey in support of their loved ones who find themselves in dementia and on a foggy journey to a distant horizon and a new dawn, on an unknown shore but who will be taking with them a heart filled with love.

So, do yourself a favour, grab yourself Another Cup of Tea, and enjoy!

Andy McMenemy, Clin.Hyp D.ThHyp (Dist) MHS (Accred)

How do we cope when dementia robs a parent of their mental capacities and turns them self-destructive or violent? Whats the best course of action when even the professional carers are struggling with their interventions?

In this case, the alternative care options were limited as Mums dementia was quite advanced, so I gave up my job, moved in with Mum through the week and became her full-time carer. This precious time spent with Mum was absolutely priceless. As Mum had always cared selflessly for us (Dad, my brother and myself) I had a very good idea of what caring for Mum could and should look like.

The caring journey was a rollercoaster ride of ups and downs. By journaling the numerous experiences via social media I found a great weight was lifted. I was able to get instant feedback and encouragement from friends and other carers who had been through similar journeys.

The only sure thing in life is that it will end. The one promise I can make to anyone embarking on a care-giving journey is that no matter how challenging it gets in the heat of any given moment, looking back, after the event, you wont regret a single minute. If you have a chance to care for a loved one in their final years, youve been given a rare opportunity indeed.

This book is only a fraction of the journey. Hopefully though its enough to show that with a brave pill, a good sense of humour and lashings of TLC anyone can learn how to help counter the symptoms of dementia and Alzheimers disease.

Theres a scene in the film The Grinch where hes hurtling down the mountain, out of control, on the back of an overpowered, motorised sleigh screaming, Mommy, tell it to stop! That was me this morning.

One of the symptoms of Mums dementia is that these personalities keep appearing from nowhere and even as her son of 56 years, I dont recognise any of them! The toughest of the bunch is a girl I call Bootle Lass and its how I imagine she would have had to be growing up in Bootle, Liverpool in the 1920s and 30s.

Id offered her a cup of tea this morning, just the way she loves it.

What do I want with a cup of boiling hot water? I cant drink that!

Or maybe some cornflakes with her milk warmed up.

Whats this? I dont want bloody cornflakes!

Then Mum asks, Whys our bin on the front path?

The bin men are coming to collect it, Id reply.

Well in all the time Ive been here, theyve never done that! Youre just making it up!

And so it went on until I mentioned Bootle (I was thinking Bootle Lass but didnt say it of course); the mood lifted, memories came flooding back and off Mum went on a mental journey, back in time to Sidney Road where she lived for the first eight years of her life before they went upmarket and moved to Crosby no less! They moved then to Southport, Tarporley and finally to Chester, all with either her fathers work at the time or to escape the bombing of Liverpool during WW2.

Given the feisty energy that Bootle Lass usually brings, I packed us some butties and managed to get Mum into the car for a quick run out to Liverpool.

We headed first to the beach at Crosby where she remembers playing as a child, then down to Bootle for a trip to Sidney Road. Memories flooded back as we pootled around the back streets before heading off down the dock road towards the Liver Buildings, just down from the bank where she used to work at her first job.

Apparently distraction is important with dementia, in this case it worked a treat, well at least until Bootle Lass comes out to play again gulp!