|>>|| No. 26546
My granddad started becoming "funny" as he himself called it when he was about in his late 60s. One of the first warning signs that I noticed was that he was confusing the names of his grandchildren. Calling me Alan, while my actual name isn't even remotely similar. But more worryingly, my granddad didn't have any grandson called Alan at all. Nobody in our entire family was called Alan.
And then things like, one of his rituals for many years used to be popping down to the newsagent's down the street every Sunday morning to get the paper, but when his dementia started, he would call my nan on his mobile phone halfway to the newsagent's and say that he couldn't remember where he wanted to go.
My granddad was fully aware what was happening to him, and it depressed him noticeably as the illness progressed. He was a financial manager in his working life, so he used to be somebody with a sharp mind for numbers and all the small details, and when he got dementia, all of that sharpness of his mind faded away. My nan stuck by him, which was hard enough. He then died of a heart attack suddenly about two years later, so at least he died before the dementia turned him into a complete mental vegetable.
Dementia is a shit way to go. Because it destroys the person you used to know slowly one day at a time. And the more intelligent and sharp a person used to be while they were in good health, the more shocking the effects will be.