Dementia for all

I know dementia is a serious thing that puts strains on families, the NHS etc etc but God, I hope I have it when I'm older.
My nan went into hospital with the hope that she'd be out in a few days. Realistically she must have known she wouldn't be. During the night, must be about a year ago now, she took one of those "turn for the worsts."
We filed onto the hospital ward and into her bay. Overnight she'd weakened and couldn't speak but her mind was still active. She saw us all traipse in with red eyes and runny noses. We sat down and the nurses appeared like ants offering us drinks and pulling the curtains round us until we were coccooned in a pre-grief cell.
If she hadn't have known already that the end was in sight, her family surrounding her trying to hold it together must have been akin to the grim reaper himself waltzing up and shaking her hand.
She gave us a few false alarms, her last breath wasn't actually her last breath yet it was enough to send my sister wailing out of the ward.
So the last sound my lovely nan heard was my sister screaming. My nan would have hated that.
My grandad, from my mum's side, has cancer. He has it bad. He's dying as I type. Two weeks ago he was driving me about, making chutney, growing chilli's and buying an X-box. Now he's sofa bound and trying to hold it together for my nan who isn't coping very well. He has weeks to live, if he's lucky. I wonder how he's managing, how he can have conversations with us about future events that he knows he won't be there to attend. He's the bravest man I know
How much easier it would be if we didn't know we were dying. I hope I never know how long I have left
So I hope I get dementia. I hope to be the one in the home rocking in the corner, the one who escapes in her pyjama's. I don't want my kids to feel guilty about putting me in a home, I won't care, I probably won't recognise them anyway and it beats them getting stressed when I constantly pee in their spare bed. I'm selfish. And I'm not brave enough to face up to the realty of dying. Constant confusion for me will be a welcome break from the trauma of clarity

Well, my first blog. I've tweeted all I can on Twitter and I've outgrown Facebook so this seemed like the next step in my natural progression of talking shite and airing my views.
I hope that I do not purposely offend however I expect that I shall. But only occasionally. And without malice.
This I suppose is my diary of thoughts, my views on life, love and the crappy bits that go hand in hand with the above.
I'm not a natural writer or thinker, I may prove this or I might surprise myself. I can only try