Thursday, 13 November 2014

From the Girl Who Doesn't Like Poetry...

...another poem!  I'd like to share somewhere that I went the other day, on a work trip with my occupational therapy colleagues.  However, I want to do it justice so you'll have to wait.  Just like everyone's been hanging around to see the pictures of my made over van.  I know I've been errant lately but every waking hour is filled.  Let's hope that I'll have time to draw breath, and maybe observe it mindfully, on my break next week!

I've written about my strongly held view that people with dementia should have access to outside space before. It's  been a persistent, unsettling theme in my thinking lately.   So I was really happy to find out about two relevant reports that will help me explore this subject further.  They'll help me form cohesive arguments for to make sure that a very disadvantaged group have something I really believe is a basic right.  Greening Dementia explores the evidence for the benefits and barriers that people with dementia have in accessing the outdoors. Living with dementia and connecting with nature: looking back and stepping forwards focuses on the benefits of green exercise.  These might be just what I need to explore this topic further.

The second document contains this moving poem by Dora who has dementia herself.  It sums up nicely why this topic is so close to my heart.


A young fella carried me
in here; it were a long way 
and a long time ago.
I were lying on grass...

I don't want to stay, no
there's nothing for me
they're all very kind
but I don't want to be

Inside anywhere at all
It's much too hot and bright
it just don't feel right
I've not been used

I need the fresh air
I keep calling out
Nurse, Nurse carry me
outside to where

I were lying on grass


  1. Hi
    I'm new to your blog and found this post most interesting. My mum is in the late stages of dementia and is still living at home with dad. Mum always enjoyed gardening when she was well. This last summer she was often found sitting in the garden watching dad.
    I've found that a lot of the information that is around is often related to the early stages and there is very little information about the later stages and how to help the patients feel valued. Mum can't communicate verbally so it's difficult to know what she wants but she does let us know what she doesn't want.
    Good luck with your studies in this very complex condition.

  2. Beautiful poem...a heartfelt cry for anyone who has no control over their life...

  3. Thank you so much for the poem--it's lovely. My father lived his last years with me and my daughter and luckily, the only bouts of dementia occurred when some gormless doctor prescribed the wrong medication for him. After many harrowing times, we sorted that out, and he died at 92, still pretty compos mentis. I'm so grateful for that blessing. I know the work you do is difficult, and so important. Thank you for all you do for our fellow humans. Kate in Oregon

  4. I expect you've seen this already but if not thought it might be of interest.