A glitch in the brain

or, when a clairvoyant knows, she knows

Papa bear has dementia. Has had for a while now. It’s been a long and twisty road to get to the point we’re at today, where he lives peacefully in his own world unaware of most things. A road that, for me, started with just one word.

Image courtesy of Alex Dukhanov via Unsplash

I knew the diagnosis one rainy afternoon. Papa bear was driving us to watch the Olympic torch being taken through a neighbouring town. The drive involved passing through a village he had driven through almost every day for the last two decades, so we were in familiar territory. He got the name of the village wrong.

Two vowels and five consonants rearranged.

It wasn’t what was said, it was how the word felt. It was different. I traced the sound of the word back to its origin and could feel the glitch in the brain that had created it. That glitch was dementia. I could see it, feel it, and sense it. It was all there in the sound of that one jumbled up word. He corrected himself, and there was nothing else remarkable. In all other ways he was perfectly cognisant, living the normal life of a septuagenarian.

Standing in the rain I was taken to another time, another place, standing in a painful future. ‘He’s not going to know us! He’s NOT GOING TO KNOW US! No, no, no, please no. Anything but this. Not my proud, blue-eyed papa bear. Not him!’

“Yes him”, said clairvoyance gently. “Yes, him.”

Grief reached in with bony fingers and cries of heartbreak came every day for what was to come. So much so that when it came, and come it did, the grief was quieter, having already made its home. As I read deeper into my papa bear’s journey, I saw that this was the path his soul had chosen. He had chosen to depart bit by bit, taking an exit stage left that would suit him.

I didn’t share what I knew immediately. I wanted to spare everyone the pain for a while. Just for a bit longer. It was such a soothing balm to my heart that others didn’t know what was coming just yet. The time would come when they would, and having more time of ignorance seemed such a blessing to me. I did all the things I knew would help, got advice from every corner of the medical and alternative fields, and he had regular healing treatments with me. I knew though. The path was set, even though there was no tangible evidence of it.

Time marched on and when, eventually, the invisible became the visible, the game was up. ‘Something’s wrong with Dad’ became evident to all. Tests began, consultations, furrowed brows.

‘It’s old age!’ said the GP.

No it isn’t.

‘It’s the heart!’ said the consultant.

No it isn’t. No it isn’t. No it isn’t.

Understandably, I couldn’t compete with the hope the medical world presented, which they did for a few years. It’s a diagnosis most dread and a path no one wants to tread. It was only a matter of time though, and inevitably, the truth revealed itself and was plain to see. Papa bear had dementia. It could no longer be explained as something else. The heartbreak was now a shared one, the knowing was everyone’s, and we all stepped onto the long and gnarly road of the diagnosis.

We’re lucky, he’s still with us. Sometimes he knows me, sometimes not. Sometimes I’m his ‘best pal’ which makes me chuckle. I cherish every cuddle and every smile, knowing it might be the last. He is peaceful for the most part and now my clairvoyance shows me how free his spirit is, soaring this way and that way, an existence so free of the limitations of the human mind. Living in a world in between worlds. A true gift. But that’s a story for another day.

Dementia UK

Young Dementia Network

Rare Dementia Support

Alzeimer’s Society