It could be you

With over 200 blogs on D4Dementia, some of them now 7 years old, I've decided to spend my 2019 year of blogging by re-visiting some of the topics I’ve covered previously, throwing fresh light on why they remain relevant, and updating them with some of my more recent experiences. This month, I want to look at the reality of being an unpaid family carer.

I’ve blogged for Carers Week every year since D4Dementia began, and while I was looking back at the start of D4Dementia for the blog’s 7th birthday, I revisited the two blogs I published during Carers Week 2012.

‘The carers job description’ was the more hard-hitting of the two, highlighting the relentless and exhausting aspects of being an unpaid family carer, while ‘Be inspired, be very inspired’ was the complete opposite as I talked about how amazing carers are.

While many blog posts may be reactionary and news-led, these two stand the test of time with quotes that remain as true today as they were then. I began ‘The carers job description’ by saying:

“If you had to be isolated, unsupported and fight the system, would you apply to be an unpaid carer?”

The reality of isolation, lack of support and having to fight systems every step of the way is a story I have heard countless times since - often, of course, from family carers whose loved ones have dementia, but also from numerous people in other caring roles including carers whose loved ones have different health conditions, sandwich carers and parent carers.

I’ve seen carers break down talking about the struggles they face, and asking simple questions like, “Why can’t this be easier?” and, “I have no idea what to do and no one to ask.” In a public arena, arguably one of the most powerful carer stories I have ever heard came from Sheila Wainwright, excerpts of which I shared in my 2013 blog, 'Caring for carers':

“Sheila told of the ‘Shear daily misery’ of their life, how ‘No one’ answered her questions, and that over the years ‘Many people came and went, and came and went’ but there was simply no continuity of support for her or her husband. Sheila admitted that she was, 'Planning how to end our lives before a call to the Admiral Nurse Dementia Helpline saved my life.’ Her husband eventually passed away in hospital after an agonising end to his life, with Sheila movingly recalling the actions of a nurse as her husband was finally at rest, ‘That sprig of flowers put on his chest when he died was one kindness I will never forget.’”

I went on to say in 'Caring for carers':

“It can never be acceptable that we wait until someone’s death before we show kindness to their carer who has valiantly stood by their side as, in Sheila’s words, her husband, ‘Screaming and snarled, pooed in the shower and pushed it down the drain, lost the ability to walk and talk, and went from 13 stone to just 7 stone when he passed away.’”

Sheila’s story has stayed with me ever since, and has been joined by stories from many other carers, past and present, who I’ve met in the months and years since I wrote ‘Be inspired, be very inspired’ but who that blog could easily have been written about, particularly when I said:

“There is something that touches your soul when you hear the individual stories of how people care for those they love the most.”

These personal accounts are incredibly hard-hitting, but what we all need to appreciate is that while carer’s stories shape our understanding and provide an immensely powerful narrative that we’ve seen countless times, not least in the recent BBC Panorama programmes ‘Crisis in Care – Who Cares?’ and ‘Crisis in Care – Who Pays?’, for the people living those lives they are a real, raw reality, not something to read or watch, agree with and then at best leave the issues they raise at the bottom of society’s ‘to do’ list. As I said in ‘Be inspired, be very inspired’:

“If you are caring for someone right now, don’t ever underestimate the amazing contribution you make to society. Anyone who does not recognise that has never walked in your shoes, but may well do so one day and will then see just what this unique role entails.”

As the thoughts of charities, businesses and organisations turn to carers again for Carers Week, which is themed this year around isolation, the stats are stark:

• One in three unpaid carers (32 per cent) looking after a loved one who is older, disabled or seriously ill has felt lonely or isolated because they are uncomfortable talking to friends about their caring role. 
• (32 per cent) say they feel socially isolated at work because of their caring responsibilities.
• (74%) feel their caring role isn't understood or valued by their community. An unwillingness to talk about caring has for many carers created a barrier to their inclusion at work, home and in public life.

(Data from https://www.carersweek.org/media-and-updates/item/487547-carers-week-2019-launch)

Add in the human emotions that lie behind those statistics and I think we can all agree that more must be done to support carers. The problem, of course, is that those who understand what being a carer really means have been saying as much for years. When this will result in actual concrete support services that aren’t a postcode lottery remains to be seen, but those who ignore this issue do so at their peril. 

There are currently 6.5 million people in the UK who are carers. Every day another 6,000 people take on a caring responsibility and there are predicted to be 9m carers by 2037. So, to quote a famous lottery slogan: “It could be you.”

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886
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Co-production in health and social care - It really isn't rocket science

Last week was the first ever National Co-production Week, identified on twitter as #CoProWeek. Organised by the Social Care Institute for Excellence, the creation of this awareness raising week marks an important milestone in recognising that if you work in health or social care, it's actually a pretty good idea to listen to, involve and continually work with the people who are using your service(s).

Purely co-incidentally, the start of National Co-production Week also saw the launch of a report I was involved in creating with Carers Trust that looked at the 'Care Act for Carers: One Year On' (PDF). Amongst our recommendations was an explicit remit (on page 23) tasked to one of the pioneer co-production organisations, Think Local Act Personal, to involve carers (people who care, unpaid, for a friend or family member) in services:

"Think Local Act Personal should work with carers to devise and offer training and materials to support practitioners to work with carers to co-design personalised support."

We also reiterate the importance of ‘co-design’ in our 2018 ‘wish list’ (on page 25):

"Social workers and other care practitioners can show that tailored support plans are routinely co-designed and kept under review with carers."

The history of co-production

'Co-design', or 'co-production' may sound like modern day jargon (they are unpopular descriptions with many people I know), but various incarnations of the basic principles of involving people who use services, and their carers and families, in how services are designed, created and run have been around for many years.

If anything, that is my personal disappointment. Through my work I’ve met stalwarts of the 'co-production scene' who have been co-producing for an incredibly long time and yet they feel little has changed on the frontline. In my view, that lack of change isn't a reflection upon those individuals at all, but more about how our health and social care systems respond to those people and the need to challenge the status quo.

Historically, we’ve been far too keen on ‘doing things to people’ rather than truly involving people in their own care and support. We like to tell our fellow citizens how things will work and what will happen to them, being prescriptive and precise, and expecting them just to go along with it. Their own opinions have been seen as irrelevant, perhaps even dangerous, and of course 'professionals know best' anyway. In other words, citizens (patients, service users, carers and whatever other labels you want to affix to ‘Joe Blogs’) should be ‘seen and not heard’.

In June 2012, I wrote a blog entitled ‘How do you make good dementia policy?’. Much of what I talk about in that blog is about co-production, except I didn’t call it co-production then. To me it was just the simple principle of involving people, which I summed up in this quote:

"My view is that you need those with direct past and present knowledge and experience of dementia to be at the forefront of policy making, privately and publically."

Tokenistic involvement isn’t enough

I have a fundamental belief that within health and social care, there is still an arrogance amongst many leaders to even involve citizens in their work, never mind truly embracing co-production and embedding it within their organisations. Often involvement is tokenistic, piecemeal and descends into glorified talking shops, which are then evaluated poorly and deemed pointless.

Budgets to support true co-production rarely exist, or are extremely limited. Interestingly, these funding arrangements are always decided by people employed by organisations, and I do wonder if being in the safely of a salaried job stifles the desire to engage and create beyond your own job description.

That may sound harsh, but given that in 2012 I was writing about the need to involve people who use services and carers in those services, I simply haven't seen enough innovation to justify a more positive assessment. If we could get to a stage whereby the viability of health and social care services was judged by how well they engaged with the people using their services, and their carers and families, I suspect a rapid improvement would soon follow.

Current, classic examples of organisations not engaging are seen on the conference scene, where too often I still see programmes for events that don't include the voices of experience. From the knowledge I have through my work, I don't believe that enough local authorities co-produce their services with their citizens, nor do NHS trusts or social care providers, and likewise for national government.

And yet, in that 2012 blog post I made the value of lived experience crystal clear when I said:

"The greatest educators are people who have learnt from their own experiences."

Time to change

I am impatient for change, I would freely admit that, and those who are embracing the true principles of co-production don't get enough praise for their work. For everyone else, I come back to this quote from that 2012 blog post:

"If you want to know about frontline warfare, you ask a soldier. If you want to know about famine in Africa, you go to Africa and ask the people who are starving. If you want to know about dementia, ask the people living with it and carers past and present who have dedicated their lives to understanding dementia."

For dementia, read any condition, any service, any experience. There are always citizens to ask about their health and care, always something to learn from listening to them, and always a way of meaningfully and fully engaging them in how you serve them now and in the future. It really isn't rocket science.

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

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Care and support in the post-Brexit landscape

Mostly I love social media and its ability to give 'real time' reaction to news and events, but I have to say that I didn't enjoy the negativity I saw this morning following the decision of the majority of the UK electorate to vote to leave the European Union.

Some of the language I have seen has reminded me of the worst of that which is associated with dementia - war-like rhetoric, stigma and a lack of respect. Whatever you believe about EU membership and however you voted, in my view this is a time for solidarity within our communities and positivity about what happens next. My only EU Referendum retweet was to share the reaction of Brendan Cox, the widower of Jo Cox MP, who tweeted this:

Today Jo wld have remained optimistic & focussed on what she cld do to bring our country back together around our best values #MoreInCommon

— Brendan Cox (@MrBrendanCox) June 24, 2016

'Optimistic and focused' sums up my mind-set entirely. Indeed, ever since I began campaigning on issues of health, social care, dementia and ageing I have lived by those sentiments (and others that are equally positive). Despite having some very negative experiences in my dad's years of living with dementia, I have chosen to work constructively to make improvements rather than constantly beat a drum of criticism and negativity.

Now, more than ever, I feel that as people who care passionately about health and wellbeing we need to follow that mind-set and address the following:

Avoid turning the outcome of this vote into an ageist agenda

Dissecting a democratic vote into age group demographics is very divisive in my opinion. Whilst statistics suggest more older people voted to leave the EU than younger people, that doesn't make either opinion more or less valid, they are simply different viewpoints. Many older people I’ve met didn’t feel that what we have is what they voted for back in 1975 and this referendum represented a chance to change the direction the UK has taken – effectively undoing a ‘wrong’ in their eyes. It is fair comment, even if you don’t agree with those individuals.

Whilst younger people may be more impacted long-term, the message has to be one of optimism and focusing on what can be created, changed and achieved, not what can't. As a new mum (of 7 months!), that is the message I will be telling our daughter when she is old enough. There is nothing you can't achieve, and that remains as much an inspiring message now as it was last week. The health and social care sectors need to promote this to young people who are considering their career options in this changing political world – they can be our person-centred, creative, energised leaders of the future.

Celebrate our current overseas workforce, support and value them, and welcome other talented individuals in the future

So much of the referendum campaign focused on immigration, which is a hot topic in UK health and social care given the reliance these sectors has had on recruiting talented, hardworking people from overseas. That reliance won’t change, so the message I would like to give our politicians as they shape the country in the aftermath of this referendum result is: 

• Every overseas worker, no matter what country they are from, who is currently here and doing vital work in health and social care must be able to continue to do that if they want to and without any barriers.
• Recruitment drives that take place overseas to fill vacancies for health and social care professionals will still be needed, and these roles need to be considered exceptional professions so that employers can make that recruitment process as seamless as possible. The only proviso is the need to be able to speak, read and write English to a high standard, which is purely a common-sense measure to ensure seamless communication and understanding in the many challenging situations people who work in health and social care face.

It is often said that overseas workers will do the work that the British-born population won't, and in both my dad's time in care homes (punctuated by spells in hospital) and through the work I do now, I have seen this consistently over many years. What I would add, however, is that as many non-EU workers cared for my father as EU workers did, so it's important to stress the diversity in the workforce that we have now as an indication of what we will need long-term.

Keep dementia care and support on the domestic (and international) agenda

With the Prime Minister resigning, there needs to be a renewed commitment from whoever takes his place to ensure that the work that has been done around dementia, notably under the auspices of 'The Prime Minister's Challenge on Dementia', continues. The first dementia strategy was launched under the last Labour government (in 2009), and whatever the future holds for the current government and the different political parties, the need for the UK to deliver the best dementia care and support in the world will not change. Likewise, the need to co-operate  and collaborate on dementia research must continue, not just with European countries but worldwide.

Going forward...

 

I would urge NHS and social care leaders to galvanise their lists of needs and wants, rather than gnash teeth and delve into the language of disaster. Vulnerable people who are in our hospitals, care homes, and within our communities who need our services, our care and our support don't stop needing that now this vote has taken place.

Now is a time to set the agenda, lead, campaign, create, change and evolve... and dare I even say unite? Should integration of health and social care be realised through the outcome of this referendum result, that, for me, would be the greatest surprise of all, but who knows? 

With an uncertain future only one thing is guaranteed - each one of us has the chance to shape that which isn't yet decided.

 

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

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Playing the numbers game

I write this blog on the cusp of September which is the 4^th World Alzheimer’s Month, a yearly international campaign to raise awareness and challenge stigma. Two announcements in August, both around prevalence, have kept dementia in the news. In case you missed them, here are the links: The Lancet and Alzheimer’s Disease International.

I’ve written before about my scepticism of dementia statistics. I am particularly wary of prevalence data and the dreaded ‘predicted’ numbers of people expected to develop dementia. I don’t feel the methodology behind many of these figures is anywhere near as robust as it should be, and whilst numbers make great headlines, I don’t feel they serve wider society well. In fact I’ve often wondered why we see so many statistics on the numbers of people predicted to develop dementia and yet so few figures for the numbers of services available, or the availability and uptake of different methods for living well with dementia.

Last time prevalence figures were revised downwards, I heard many whisperings of discontent from those who either work within or on the periphery of English dementia policy. It’s astonishing to consider that some people might not welcome such data, however questionable the methodology behind it is, but then dementia has been on an almost unstoppable bandwagon of negativity and doom and gloom headlines ever since the PM’s Dementia Challenge ignited unprecedented interest in the ‘D’ word.

The prospect that less people than previously thought may now go on to develop dementia in the UK is something to be applauded in my view, although I’m not convinced it has anything to do with lifestyle modifications being made by the population. I suspect these new predictions are just attempting to correct previously dubious data. I’d love to think that the population are taking precautions to improve their health by following preventative advice relating to diet, exercise and lifestyle, but I personally don’t feel those messages are anywhere near as embedded as they should, or need, to be.

Meanwhile of course, the Alzheimer’s Disease International (ADI) report paints a picture of increasing rates of dementia worldwide, and highlights how low and middle income countries in particular are likely to be affected by growing rates of dementia development in the years ahead. Without the health and care infrastructure we enjoy in the UK (however fragmented it is), not to mention lower levels of education and awareness, these predictions from ADI seem eminently sensible, albeit offering a huge challenge to the global community to try and offer people at risk of developing dementia, or already living with dementia, in these countries a chance to live a better life than they might otherwise have access to.

So how do we unpick all of this and become more informed citizens? A good place to start is by ignoring headlines that predict doom one day and a cure the next, and that play the numbers game by quoting figures that may appear very authoritative but in essence are based on what mostly amounts to some very complex analytical guesswork. In the same way that the rhetoric of loss associated with dementia and so avidly repeated in the media does nothing to help families navigate their way with dementia in positive and practical ways. The recent 'Dementiaville' programme was a classic example – if they told us once that the families featured were losing their loved ones to dementia they told us a hundred times.

Looking back, I suspect part of the reason why I was able to enjoy time with my dad in his latter years with dementia, and look back so fondly on much of what we did together is precisely because I didn’t inwardly digest statistics and negative portrayals of dementia. In saying that, I don’t for one moment underestimate the impact dementia has, it changed my father’s life and the lives of those around him in immeasurable ways, but it didn’t consume me. Living and loving and taking each day as it came was my coping strategy, not that I realised it at the time.

Whatever the rate of dementia prevalence is in the years ahead, it won’t change the fundamentals of living with dementia, and if cuts in social care services and our over-stretched NHS are anything to go by, whether the predictions of dementia prevalence are high or low doesn’t stop people being denied the care and support that they need. 

If anything we should to be less hung up on numbers and more focused on people. We also need to spend a lot more time and resources on those positive public health messages that are designed to keep people healthier for longer, and an awful lot more energy publicising and replicating some of the really great care and support mechanisms for dementia that a few people have access to but that many others do not.

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

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Why don’t we listen to people with dementia?

Before I get into the substance behind the title I’ve chosen for this blog post, I first want to acknowledge that there are organisations who do listen to people with dementia, and organisations exclusively made up of people with dementia who give those individuals a very prominent voice. However, in both of these instances, this remains a minority representation of people with dementia, and that’s the inspiration behind this blog post.

I chose the title, ‘Why don’t we listen to people with dementia’ purely because the majority of society doesn’t. Despite awareness-raising campaigns that have begun to change the perception of dementia, stigma still looms large, language is still used in a derogatory, belittling way that helps to re-enforce stigma, and people with dementia are largely talked about by others, or ignored completely.

Reflecting on my dad’s life with dementia, he never really had a voice. As a family we didn’t understand dementia for many of the 19 years dad was living with it (and certainly in the first 10 years before his diagnosis), so in essence we were just muddling along together. In the last few years of dad's life, when he lost his more vibrant communication abilities, we did our best to advocate for him, but I appreciate now, more than ever, that the very best we could ever have done for dad was to interpret for him, and where there is interpretation there is margin for error. 

The only true representation of each person’s unique experience of living with a diagnosis of dementia is from that person themselves. Anything else is a substitution.

I understand this more now thanks to some of the inspirational people I’ve been fortunate to meet who are living with dementia. Sharing my dad’s life gave me an education in dementia like none other, but with dad gone, some of the amazing people who are living with dementia that I've met since then help me to keep learning, and that is a gift more precious than I could ever describe.

I was recently asked to compere a launch event for two books – One by Shibley Rahman, an academic, called ‘Living better with dementia’ (which I’ve written a foreword for), and one by Kate Swaffer, a lady living with dementia, called ‘What the hell happened to my brain’. Kate lives in Australia, and I’ve followed her blog since 2012 – a more insightful read would be impossible to find, and I constantly recommend Kate’s writing to anyone looking to learn more about what it’s like to live with her particular experiences of dementia.

Kate Swaffer, Beth Britton and Shibley Rahman

Given the geographical distance between us I’d only ever seen Kate’s presentations on videos, so having the opportunity to listen to her in-person was truly special. Afterwards, I described Kate’s presentation as ‘awesome’ but I’m not sure that really even begins to do it justice.

I know Kate has had many struggles in being recognised and acknowledged as an authoritative individual in her own right, and even more astonishingly, openly demonised by some who disagree with her, frankly, very common sense views. Granted we are all entitled to our own opinions, but I cannot understand why anyone would think Kate shouldn’t share her experiences, or speak out on issues like the use of language around dementia or perceptions of ‘wandering’ and ‘challenging behaviour’. 

The discomfort around Kate’s advocacy for the rights of people with dementia seems to have its roots in the belief that questioning the status quo, the way things have always been ‘done’ and ‘described’, is somehow taboo. Yet surely the reason society has progressed so far in numerous areas of life like medicine, science and technology is precisely because someone decided to question the status quo, do something differently, and find remarkable results.

Like an ostrich, there seems to be a desire to bury heads in the sand, when in reality we should be thanking and applauding people like Kate for having the courage to speak out, and the wisdom to talk so much sense. And yes, the irony of that last statement isn’t lost on me, given that people with dementia have, historically, been seen as being unable to speak out and losing any wisdom they had once dementia is diagnosed.

At the moment I feel there is a perception that a person diagnosed with dementia somehow instantly progresses to having very advanced dementia, with all the communication difficulties that can entail which would make it very difficult to be an outspoken advocate of your personal experiences. In reality, however, for the majority of people diagnosed with dementia, progression is much slower, and the ability to speak out and contribute to debate, policy and the implementation of policy is potentially feasible for a significant period of time, depending on personal circumstances of course.

So where do we go from here? Organisations like DEEP (Dementia Engagement and Empowerment Project), The Scottish Dementia Working Group, the European Working Group of People with Dementia and Dementia Alliance International are increasingly finding that their membership, made up entirely of people who are living with dementia, are finding a voice, but in comparison to the numbers of people who are actually living with dementia, the proportion is tiny.

Amongst the total number of people living with dementia in England, I fully appreciate that the majority may well prefer to keep themselves to themselves – my dad would almost certainly fit into that category if he was still alive and newly diagnosed. People who are diagnosed at a younger age are often more widely heard voices, not least because individuals in that demographic may feel more confident in using social media and blogging. In the end, I’m not sure it matters so much who speaks up, just so long as every person with dementia has equal opportunity.

Then of course it is down to organisations, both national and local, governmental and private corporates (including dementia conference organisers), to listen, and that is perhaps the hardest part of all. Home truths don’t often sit easily, nor does challenging the status quo, as Kate Swaffer has already proven. But if we are ever to move beyond stigma and discrimination and towards a truly world-class model of support and care for people with dementia, then giving people with dementia a voice and listening to what they have to say really is the only place to start.

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

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Mind the gap

Dementia making the headlines isn’t anything new and today’s make for fairly depressing, albeit highly predictable, reading. Anyone currently involved in dementia care in the UK, be that as a person with dementia, a family member supporting/caring for a person with dementia or a professional within health and social care, wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that findings from an Alzheimer’s Society survey of over 1,000 GP’s that was published today found the following: 

1.     There are big gaps in post-diagnosis support from health and social care services, with social care particularly singled out - two-thirds of GP’s surveyed said patients don't get enough provision from adult social services after a diagnosis.

2.     Unpaid carers (family, friends and neighbours) are being left to care for loved ones without the support they need.

3.     GP’s in areas that don’t have good post-diagnosis support provision are more reluctant to diagnose people with dementia or refer their patients to memory services for diagnosis.

Out of these headlines I suspect that council’s will be criticised for not providing enough social care support (which of course most councils are going to struggle to do in the current climate of austerity and huge cutbacks), carers will be given masses of sympathy (when in reality they would rather have action to help them not public pity), and GP’s will be lampooned for not offering more support themselves and not diagnosing patients who they may suspect have dementia (even though General Practice is under more pressure than it’s ever been in the history of the NHS).

 

Picking up on the diagnosis point, however, really gets to the heart of the issue for me. When dementia was first declared a governmental priority, the initial focus was on improving diagnosis. Fine, you might think, it’s important we diagnose people. Well yes, except that if you diagnose someone but offer them and their family no support all they have is a label to hang their symptoms from and absolutely no idea where to go next or how they might live well. 

 

Those issues then quickly fuel the problems that wider family networks have in providing support and care, and of course when the inevitable breakdown comes there is an increased need to utilise health and social care services, which are often either inaccessible, vastly over-subscribed or have disappeared as a result of cutbacks. Even when there is the possibility of localised support, there is often no one to help navigate complex health and social care systems, with GP’s under immense pressure and third sector organisations like Alzheimer’s Society, Dementia UK (Admiral Nurses) and others all needing additional funding from commissioners in order to offer the post-diagnostic support that they are equipped to provide.

 

I’d like to say there are some positives in this latest Alzheimer’s Society survey, but I can’t see any. Yet I don’t think it should be used as a stick to beat health and social care professionals with. That won’t help anyone, least of all the huge numbers of families who are needing support and just not getting it. The buck stops with government, and as I wrote about in the run up to the last election, I fear that many of our politicians just don’t understand the importance of social care and, whilst most are very sympathetic towards carers, the needs carers have - particularly around financial issues, access to training, equipment and breaks - are never comprehensively addressed in legislation.

 

Proper integration of health and social care services, rather than piecemeal promises, a decent carer’s allowance, legally enshrined employment protection for carers who are working alongside caring, freely available training and access to equipment and personalised breaks to help carers, and of course those all-important post-diagnostic services that aren’t subject to a postcode lottery and are personalised, innovative, flexible and based on best practice, are what people with dementia and their families need, and frankly have needed for as long as I can remember.

 

I have repeatedly argued that resolving any potential shortfall in diagnosis is intrinsically linked to post-diagnostic support. More people will come forward with potential dementia symptoms if they feel their local services are ready and willing to help them, and GP’s will naturally have more confidence with the diagnostic process if they know that the best interests of their patients will be served by giving them access to the care and support that they need. The key point here, though, is that the care and support actually needs to exist!

 

Allowing diagnosis and post-diagnostic support to get so compartmentalised was a huge mistake that’s leaving more families than ever before to pick up the post-diagnosis pieces alone. I suspect that diagnosis was seen as a ‘quick win’ in terms of statistics – by adopting case-finding in hospitals and GP’s surgeries, people who were developing dementia symptoms were always going to be identified in higher numbers than before such an exercise began.

 

Diagnosis was a major theme in the 2009 Dementia Strategy, and again in the 2012 PM Dementia Challenge, yet in 2015 whilst diagnosis rates have increased to a more ‘politically acceptable’ level, the personalised support that MUST follow that diagnosis is something many parts of the country are still trying to design, and that’s before they even progress to funding and implementation. 

 

To say this gap in post-diagnostic support angers me would be a bit of an understatement. When my dad was diagnosed, long before strategies and PM challenges, we had about as much support as many families do now. In other words, nothing. The only advantage families have now, as far as I can see, is that with improved awareness of dementia has come a wealth of online and paper-format resources, more helplines, and the hope that with increased political focus will come the action that is so badly needed. 

 

If I could find one chink of light at the end of the tunnel, and it’s stretching a point a very long way, it’s that dementia has come out of the shadows. That, however, is pretty scant consolation for families affected by dementia who feel isolated and unsupported, and whose loved ones living with dementia could be living so much better if only they had access to expertise, advice and support.

 

Closing the gap between diagnosis and post-diagnostic support must happen, and it must happen quickly.

 

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

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Focus on carers

Today sees the start of the annual Carers Week, an important campaign to help raise the profile and needs of carers in the UK and celebrate the vital contribution they make to society. This year's theme is 'Carer Friendly Communities', which dovetails neatly with the long-standing ambition to create 'Dementia Friendly Communities'.

The idea of 'friendliness' it seems is everywhere, and carers are certainly long overdue their dose of understanding, support and recognition. However, the ambition to create ‘Carer Friendly Communities’ isn't going to be one that is easily achieved. Carers face a multitude of issues and problems, which (in no particular order), include: 

•   The low level of Carer's Allowance, and fears that it could face cuts in the future (rather than being increased). Many carers are already on the breadline or in debt.

•   Prejudice in the workplace. Many employees who are also carers can find it impossible to juggle employment and their caring role, and unlike the awareness of issues parents of young children face, the issues carers face when caring for adult loved ones are often poorly understood by employers.

•   Lack of training. While training for our health and social care workforce may be patchy, education and training are often completely non-existent for carers of loved ones. It’s a role you often ‘fall into’ and have to learn as you go, despite some of the demanding and complex tasks many carers undertake that, in the professional workforce, it would be unthinkable not to provide training for.

•   The complexity of navigating health and social care systems. This complexity can be so great that professionals in health and social care who then become unpaid carers for family members or friends often report huge difficulties with navigating the systems they work in. Against that backdrop, what hope is there for the majority of carers facing these circumstances?

I’m sure even the most ardent supporter of ‘Carer Friendly Communities’ would agree that it will be impossible for communities alone to provide solutions to these issues, but that shouldn’t detract from the laudable aims of ‘Carer Friendly Communities’, not least because I believe that collective local action can improve the lives of many people in our society, including carers.

 

Potentially living in a community that understands the needs of carers could help with:

•   Support for carers. This could be anything from social interaction with likeminded people to help with having a break or a holiday (often carers want a holiday to be facilitated that can include their loved one).

•   Greater understanding of the needs of carers and the people they care for. This could be anything from making transport more accessible to providing toilets that a carer and the person they are caring for can go into together in order to change an incontinence pad.

•   A more enlightened attitude. As I explained in my G8 Dementia Summit Film, we would take my dad to coffee shops and people would often stare because we had to spoon drinks into his mouth. Educating communities about different conditions, and the ways in which families are supporting people living with those conditions, can help to remove a lot of stigma and discomfort families who are caring for a loved one with conditions like dementia feel when they go out. If we don't address these issues they can, and do, lead to unbearable levels of social isolation.

•   Support for life after caring. This is a vitally important area of carer support that is largely ignored. If a person goes from being a carer for many years to no longer fulfilling that carer role, for whatever reason, that is a life-changing juncture for that individual. If the person they have cared for has died, there is also a need for specialised bereavement counselling that takes into account not just the personal relationship the two people had but the care and support relationship too.

My reservation is always around how the extra support carers need is going to be funded. We know that social care is on its knees, and although there is a huge amount of potential to turn care homes into community hubs (this could help with some of those socialising and training issues), or to utilise and develop some of the fantastic potential within the charitable and community interest sector, initiatives - however well-meaning - cannot survive on fresh air alone.

My personal view is that as a country we don't value carers enough. Time and time again the huge contribution they make to society and the immeasurable problems that would be created if every carer suddenly decided to stop caring are conveniently forgotten. We must NEVER overlook the fact that without families, friends and neighbours caring for the people they love and are close to, our health and social care systems would completely collapse. Carers prop up so many services, helping to keep loved ones out of hospital and out of care homes, but many do this as isolated, bewildered, exhausted and marginalised individuals who often fell into caring and see no ‘way out’.

In reality, most carers actually don’t want a 'way out', but they are driven to despair and hopelessness by the lack of support. It is a lack of support that shames us all. Greater support for carers would be amongst the finest investments we could ever make to our country for today, tomorrow and the future. If ‘Carer Friendly Communities’ proves to be one way to facilitate that then great, but I would also urge our politicians and policy makers to do their bit, because without their input and influence this focus on carers will just be another well-meaning exercise with no tangible inroads being made into the issues that trouble carers the most.

Until next time...

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