It’s not often I remember my father from when he was normal (normal in my terms is before Alzheimer’s took him away from me). But thankfully I have my diary´s to help me. The first time that I mention Alzheimer’s disease is April 15th 1991. This is when my father got his diagnosis I was 15 years old. Sadly I have written more scary things about him, like the time when he in a “good ” moment remember that he was a burden to us and asked my mother to kill him. Hi run around the house with a knife and begged us “please, please help me”. It’s hard to handle those thoughts especially when I know what I awate. Me and my sister got help to handle our thoughts and emotions by going to skilled psychiatric´s. But dad was alone.
Today the health system for a young alzheimer’s patient in Sweden (when you meet the right doctor) is amazing. Although you meet a lot of doctors that comment your young age and are tilting their head when they talk to you. The health system in Sweden also provides me my husband and children with a psychiatrist if we want to. So far none of us have that need but I know it will come a day for my children. Sometimes I think about what my children need to go through, I have lived that life and it´s not a pretty one. The constant guilt not to be able to help, not to be able communicate with your loved one. The people staring and whispering when you take your family member for a simple walk in the neighbourhood. The friends you lose because they are to afraid. I remember that one of my “friends” started a rumor that it was contagious so some of my friends suddenly did not call me anymore… But one the bright side the friends that do stay are those you can count on forever.
