Hearing the recent news that Robbie Williams' mum, Janet, has dementia, my heart broke for him. It doesn't matter how successful or famous someone is, dementia is indiscriminate, devastating and can affect anyone. Everyone’s experience of dementia is different, and it's impossible to ever know the full circumstances in each case. However, if I could offer some advice to anyone experiencing dementia in their family, it would be this: embrace their new world with open arms. Despite the hardships you may be surprised at the beautiful moments that arise from it - but don't be afraid to ask for support, either.
I'll always remember the night of the 2023 National Television Awards. I was in full makeup with rollers in my hair, cleaning food off the kitchen floor. My nan, Helen, had spilled some of the dinner I made her, and I still needed to give her a bath before my taxi arrived. She loves anything sparkly, so I added a glittering bath bomb to the water as I combed her hair.
People are often surprised when they find out I’m a dementia carer, especially given my glitzy day job working across TV, radio and news. My specialism is launching TV podcasts, such as the Strictly Come Dancing series that I presented alongside Scott Mills, and producing others for shows such as The Masked Singer. But it’s being a carer for my lovely Nan that brings the most joy to my life.
When Nan was 81, I noticed her behaviour beginning to change. It started with a call from my mum, asking why I wasn’t at my grandparents’ house for dinner. She said Nan had cooked a meal for me, but I hadn’t turned up. I was confused, I was sure we had never arranged anything.
I began to notice her struggling to remember names and places, too, then, one day, Nan opened the freezer and some peas fell on to the floor. She was always very house proud, so I was surprised to see her kick the peas under the counter rather than clearing them up. I knew then that there was something more going on.
In 2020 the pandemic hit, which made getting medical assessments difficult, but eventually Nan was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, a form of dementia with symptoms that can include confusion, hallucinations, personality changes and difficulty performing self-care tasks, among others.
Isolated at home during lockdowns, Nan began to deteriorate much more quickly. She started struggling to recognise some of her grandchildren, who she wasn’t able to see for long periods at a time. Then, in 2021, my grandad passed away suddenly from sepsis. While it was a difficult time for the whole family, in some ways the dementia meant Nan wasn’t aware enough of what was happening to be consumed by the grief. Even now, she often forgets my Grandad has passed away and thinks he’s sitting in another room or has just popped out.
Being on her own in her flat, Nan found it difficult to do daily tasks by herself. My parents and I went round up to twice a day, and carers started coming in to help. But when it came to bathing, Nan hated getting undressed in front of strangers and would be in a terrible mood whenever the carers came over. That’s why I decided that I’d bathe Nan, as I knew that, if I was in her position, I would prefer someone I knew. After a few weeks, I was at Nan’s flat so often that I decided to move in and care for her myself.
Some people with dementia can become aggressive or argumentative, but Nan has become more childlike and light-hearted, so she’s generally in a good mood. Having now lost her concept of the recent past or the future, Nan lives completely in the moment. If I leave the flat, she often forgets I live with her, so she’s always excited to see me when I get back. I usually bring her a cake or treat on the way home and then I tell her I’ll be staying overnight – she just lights up. It’s so special to be able to give her that good news every day.
On a typical morning, Nan wakes up before me and likes to potter about in her room. My dad comes over first thing in the morning to help out, and we get her washed and dressed before breakfast. I make sure she has her tablets and then Dad heads off once Nan is settled. I make her comfortable in the living room watching TV and then I work from home at the kitchen table – which does mean Nan pops up in the back of video calls to say hello sometimes! We have lunch together every day and do some laps of the flat or, in the summer, go for walks around the block to help maintain her mobility.
Like a lot of people with dementia, however, Nan experiences ‘sundowning’ (a period of confusion that usually occurs when the sun goes down). She sometimes hallucinates at night, believing there are intruders in the house, which can be very distressing. She often tries to leave the flat, as she worries her parents are waiting for her to come home in Dublin, where she was born.
But despite her illness, Nan has not lost her sense of humour. She’s witty, sarcastic and loves slapstick humour – we laugh every hour. If I burn the dinner or knock something over, she just laughs and says, "Oh, don’t worry!" She appreciates the simple things most now. Last Christmas, we decorated the tree entirely pink, because it’s her favourite colour, and I bought her a bright pink dress to wear on the day, too. It’s about finding the fun in every moment we have together.
Having my parents nearby means I can lean on them when I need extra support, or to keep an eye on her when I’m out at work. They even took over full time for a week so I could go on holiday. My close friends are really understanding of my situation and work to accommodate me in social plans, so I feel like I’m able to live my own life alongside caring.
I know that, for a lot of carers, the story is very different. While there are still difficult moments, I’ve never regretted my decision to care for Nan and I feel lucky to have this time together. I’ve learned to find joy in the little things and to embrace silliness and laughter wherever I can.
One in three people born in the UK today will develop dementia. Alzheimers Society provides information and support to improve care, fund research and create lasting change for people affected by dementia. Visit alzheimers.org.uk or call 0333 150 3456
