My name was Reg. I had Alzheimer’s disease, a form of dementia. I was an East End boy living in a three bedroom semi in Essex with my family. When I retired, I thought life would be fun, after all those years of working and contributing to society. I stopped work when I was eighty only because I had to because someone thought that I was a dnager to myself.
I wanted to enjoy life a little but it wasn’t to be. I lost my purpose in life and started to forget little things like where I put my keys and in that experience, I started to feel really down. I would put on my winter hat and coat on and go out on a warm summer’s day. I did not notice how warm it was outside. I did not mean to forget, become confused or frustrated. I just couldn’t
communicate how I used to. There is something wrong with my brain box, there is something wrong with me! Reg….