I still cherish every moment I have with Jan – Bob’s story

I will never forget the first time I saw Jan. I was approaching 20 years old and was working as a draughtsman, which in case you aren’t aware, involves preparing detailed drawings of machinery, equipment or buildings.  

My boss had asked me to accompany him to a meeting with a potential client, and though I contributed precious little to the discussion, it was a meeting that would change the course of my life. Halfway through, a beautiful young woman walked through the door and was (incorrectly) introduced as Jane. She didn’t stay for more than a couple of minutes and we didn’t exchange words, but that was the very first glimpse of my future wife, Janet. 

Suffice to say, I was very happy to work in the client’s offices in the following months. That meant the exciting prospect of talking to Jan. She was a draughtswoman working on industrial buildings, and she occupied the drawing board behind mine. She was more confident than me. It took me some time to muster the courage to ask her out, as I had convinced myself that I didn’t have a chance.  

I remember one day, I was working away on the drawing board, when right out of the blue came a voice from behind: “Where are you taking me tonight?” It was Jan. This came as a complete surprise and I thought she was having me on, so I did nothing.  

Finally, I did ask her out. And the rest, as they say, is history. We have now been together for 62 years. Jan was, and still is, the best thing that ever happened to me. I love her dearly, as much now as I did then.  

Traumatic visits to the hospital

On Valentine’s Day 2019, we went to bed as normal, although Jan said she had a slight headache. In the middle of the night, Jan got out of bed and fell immediately to the floor, moaning in pain. I called for an ambulance and she was taken to A&E, where doctors confirmed that she’d had a stroke. I called our three daughters, who each came to visit as soon as they could. Jan’s hospital stay ended up being six weeks.  

It must have been some days after the event, when, having just returned home from visiting Jan in the hospital, I was sitting in an armchair watching television alone and the trauma caught up with me. I just sat in the chair and cried. 

The following years were focused on Jan’s recovery, which was slow and arduous. Her balance and mobility were never going to be the same, but we did get to a point where she could walk with a frame and get into the car to go places.  

On 6th March 2022, Janet, who was then 77 years old, had another severe turn for the worse. Her left eye became very sore and swollen and then closed over completely. Nothing was working. After a few weeks, doctors said the only course of action was removal of the eye.  

The night before the operation, Jan clutched my hand and said, “You will have an ugly wife tomorrow, Bob.” This could not have been further from the truth. It was a sad situation, but nothing could change my love for Jan. 

 Jan’s diagnosis of vascular dementia

Following her operation, I began to notice changes in Jan’s behaviour and demeanour. Subtle at first, but then more pronounced. She became increasingly confused. I vividly remember one morning, while lying in bed, she turned to me and asked, “Is there a garden outside that window?” Another time, we were watching TV and she asked, “What time are we going home?” I had to quietly remind her that we were home, and that this was our house.  

More recently, Jan has begun to ask who I am. When she does, I gently tell her, “I am your husband, I have been your husband for 62 years, and that’s why I’m here looking after you.” One night after I said this, she looked at me somewhat confused, and then said, “If you are Bob, I love you.” This breaks my heart. 

I decided it was time to seek medical advice in late April, 2024. After a memory assessment and several consultations with doctors, Jan was diagnosed with vascular dementia in July.  

I’ve found that dealing with emotion is one of the biggest challenges about living with dementia. For me, the hardest part is when Jan tries to tell me something but is never able to finish. She will invariably stop halfway through, and say, “I’ve forgotten.” What upsets me most is when she herself realises that she cannot remember. She tries to explain herself but finishes with tears in her eyes – “Bob, I wonder why I can’t remember.”  

I mentioned to Jan recently that we haven’t been called back to the hospital for over a year for her eye examination. This made me think that previously, we would have discussed the hospital appointment together, and Jan herself would join in the conversations with the doctor. This couldn’t happen now; it wouldn’t be possible. This is when you realise the drastic changes that dementia brings on. 

Most of my days and nights are now spent providing full-time care to Jan, ensuring she eats something, takes her medication, has a wash and is safe and comfortable. She doesn’t hold a conversation. She is also experiencing incontinence problems, or more to the point, I am experiencing her incontinence problems, as she really doesn’t know it’s happening.   

This is not how I envisioned our later years. It’s exhausting, and at times devastating, but I’ll always be here for Jan. We’ve had 62 beautiful years together and I’ll cherish every moment with her to come.