A Life Less Lost: Chapter 67
...My stomach feels cold and twists painfully when we arrive at their bungalow. Mum and Kenneth sit close together on the edge of their settee. They look vulnerable and old. I don't want to hear what they have to say...
Kimm Walker tells of a day of ill omen.
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'Can you both come over? We have something we need to tell you.'
Kenneth's voice is stiff and dark on the phone.
My stomach feels cold and twists painfully when we arrive at their bungalow. Mum and Kenneth sit close together on the edge of their settee. They look vulnerable and old. I don't want to hear what they have to say.
'We've seen the doctor today, for the results of the tests.'
I can see the World War II veteran in Kenneth's shoulders and straight back.
'You're mother has Alzheimer's.'
We're not surprised but sickened all the same.
Mum studies her hands writhing in her lap. She raises her face. It is full of desperation.
'You must promise me you won't tell anyone.' Her eyes burn into us, as she insists on our word. 'I don't want anyone to know,'
It won't be an easy promise to keep. Many already suspect things are not right with Mum and they will only get worse. I'd found the support we'd
received from friends during James' illness, indispensable. Because we'd been open with our friends, they were able to share the burden with us.
The awful stigma Mum imagines is connected to mental illness means she, and we, will be deprived of some of the support she might otherwise receive.
'Don't tell. Promise me.' Her words are fierce bullets. 'I don't want anyone to know.'
It's a promise I keep until she's past knowing, in the hopes that by sharing our experiences we can help reduce the stigma for others, that they and their carers might be less isolated.
