My Nan’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and because of lockdown, I can’t see her

Every three seconds, someone is diagnosed with Dementia. In the UK it’s every three minutes.

You'll often hear whispered stories about a dementia diagnosis. Mutual friends will talk about a neighbour, a distant relative, or a family friend. “They've been diagnosed with dementia, ah what a shame,” and that's it; you'll probably never talk about that person again until it's bad news.

My Nan, Nannie, has changed over the course of several years.

Me as a baby, a few days old, with my Nannie and older cousins.

We assume Nannie has had mild signs of Alzheimer's for years, but it's impossible to say when everything started. Was it more recently with not getting dressed? Was it later, when she became weirdly obsessed with recycling and plastic, “You can't throw that away!”

But aren’t Nans just weird anyway? That’s their job. Being weird. Feeding you endless desserts and endlessly nagging you. In my case nagging, about what plastic you can and can’t recycle.

When I last saw her, she would potter around the place. Freely folding clothes, straightening objects on the mantelpiece. Now she’s cautious when she moves, she likes to have a walking stick to rely on or one of our arms to hold onto.

Professor Nick Fox, the Director of the Dementia Research Centre said, “Dementia is a ‘syndrome’ which means that someone has cognitive decline that is sufficient to interfere with their normal activities of daily living.”

After my Nan’s Alzheimer's diagnosis, I did the typical millennial thing and quickly scrolled the NHS website. Immediately. Loud and scary words popped up - “terminal”, “life-limiting”.

There’s often representation about people with dementia in mainstream media. For his performance as the confused old man in The Father, Sir Anthony Hopkins is likely to win an Academy Award for Best Actor this year (in total the film has six nominations).

Even the trailer is horrifying to watch; it's completely disorienting, it literally makes you feel as if you have dementia.

A few days later after her diagnosis, masked up, I decided to speak to her at the doorstep.

It was terrifying to see her. I was anticipating a significant change in her appearance: her smile would be different, her face would be older, and her old eyes would look confused. Instead, she almost looked the same, and she remembered.

She remembered my worries about insignificant university deadlines, she didn’t seem confused. She was almost the same.

Over the phone, she still continues to tell off my 14-year-old sister for her recurring American TikTok vocabulary; “It isn't a sidewalk, darling. It’s a pavement.”

But I can see the panic in her eyes. Sometimes, as Nannie talks, midway through a ridiculous sentence her brain catches up. Right then, she realises the complete absurdity of what she is saying, and a look of shame crosses her face. Her shame upsets me so much that it literally hurts my heart and stays with me.

Of course I don’t see her often, my Mum (Nannie’s new carer) gives me daily briefings on what she’s like every day “And she still won’t stop going on about how much she misses you Alice”. And I’m counting down the days until 21st June.

“Covid has isolated many people and their families, and as a result, a disproportionate number of them have dementia”, says Professor Fox. People with dementia account for 25% of all Covid-related deaths in England and Wales.

I’m lucky, Nannie’s had her second vaccine. Especially, when compared to the heartbreaking coronavirus stories of elderly people dying in hospitals and care homes during this pandemic.

For now though, dementia is really awkward. Not just painful and frightening. Embarrassing.

There are many online services that provide counselling, advice, and support, including:

Alzheimer’s Society’s Dementia Connect support line on 0333 150 3456

Dementia UK’s support line on 0800 888 6678