The police had taken her to the A&E where she was assessed. I called the A&E. My first encounter with a French hospital was rather a negative one, to put it mildly. After being transferred from department to department and a few mix-ups later I finally spoke to the person who had looked after my mother that morning.

She said ‘Your mother has been discharged and sent home earlier on. ‘I was furious ‘Are you telling me you discharged my mother, you discharged an 84 year old woman living on their own, who arrived to you disorientated?’ ‘She was orientated by the time she left. I was told. ‘What about her physical state, was she dehydrated, well nourished or emaciated?’ Silence, nobody seemed to have thought about that. I hung up. I needed to think, I was in a state of extreme anxiety. It was late afternoon by then.

I rang my mother, no reply, thoughts were rushing through my mind, did she make it home, if she did has she fainted from exhaustion or fallen down or was not able to reach the phone. I really didn’t know.

Eventually I managed to get hold of a neighbour’s telephone number, I didn’t know her very well, I had only met her near the lift and in the street a couple of times when I was going out shopping with my mother, who introduced me to her. I knew my mother liked her and that’s very important. I was quite embarrassed to say the least but what else could I do, it was the only alternative to calling the police.

I explained the situation, she was very nice and understanding, she said she would go and knock at my mother’s door to see if she was there. She also confirmed that my mother looked very thin and confused and everyone was worried, i.e., the other neighbours and the concierge, but did not know how to contact me.

If they had shown any concern my mother would say she was ‘OK just a bit tired. Some time later, which seemed like an eternity, the phone went, it was the neighbour with my mother, she told me my mother had answered when she had knocked at the door but was unable to open the locks. She had to guide her step by step and finally she managed to open it. then. She also found the two telephones were unplugged, no wonder there had been no answer when I rang; it rang on my side but not at my mother’s end of course.

I spoke to my mother at last, tried to reassure her and said I was coming as quickly as I could. Next day I phoned my mother’s GP and made an appointment with him and asked him to visit my mother. I also said that I was coming and would take her back with me to London, he agreed, it was the best thing to do at the time.

I don’t know what it must be like as a husband or wife caring for their partner but to care for your parent who does not live with you, you have the decision as to whether they should live with you. That is influenced by your own circumstances and their own, their own wishes and the wishes of anybody else who happens to be living with you.

Personally I think when one is married, the first priority is the partner to whom you’re married – or committed to I suppose in this day and age – and the parent has of necessity to be the second priority, it has to be like that. Otherwise you rescue one relationship, well one person at the expense of another; that’s all very easy to say but it’s the doing it, its very difficult. I had great difficulty remembering that my first priority must be my husband when my husband was hale.

It was decided that the house that we live in is not suitable to have my mother living here in her – then – condition. Although there is a downstairs toilet facility, there are lots of little steps in awkward places. It, she would have ended up either a prisoner in her own room or sitting with us the whole time, neither of which would have been a good idea. As fond as my husband is of my mother, it would be putting a great strain on him, and we have a relationship of our own which is important to us – after many years of marriage its as important as it was in the beginning, it requires nurturing, not threatening it, really.

The whole household was upset, they could see that I didn’t know what to do, they also realised that I couldn’t take her back, that it was a question of time before something happens to her. On the other hand I could not keep her here, I felt like a kidnapper, I mean for three months I really felt I’d kidnapped her. She wouldn’t stay.

The tension was really getting bad, I tried to calm her down, I tried to talk to her, I tried all sorts of things but nothing worked. Eventually I was working myself in a state and that was not good for her or for me or for anyone else. What was I to do, I cried many times completely at a loose end. How could I take my mother back home, I knew it will start all over again, I could not cope with the idea of her being in danger. I felt it was criminal, knowing the situation, to take her back. How many times was I supposed to help her out of a crisis only to start again a few months later?

We had to move forward. On the other hand I could not really keep her under the circumstances. I truly felt as if I had kidnapped her. She had to be co-operative for me to be able to help her otherwise I was not caring for her in a positive way. I was only keeping her out of trouble.

What I wanted was for her to have a quality of life, to be able, not to worry about eating or cooking or doing her paperwork, or doing her shopping, that all this could be taken care of. And she could concentrate basically on the things she could still do and I could help her to regain some memory with talking, with pictures, but she also had to help me with that. If she was opposing everything I was doing or saying I couldn’t do anything. At the same time she was completely refusing to accept or she couldn’t, probably she couldn’t accept that she needed help.

By this time I was doing all her shopping, all her washing. I employed a cleaner for her, who she paid. I was managing her pension. My sister was dealing with other aspects of the financial situation, she took all that on board because I had the physical side to do.

Fridays became quite a good day, I’d set aside Friday afternoon and we would go shopping together and sometimes she was better than others, but she would walk with me and look at the shops and buy inappropriate things if I didn’t prevent her. And I, but I did begin to think that we might manage a few years like this, again I had no idea what dementia led to, how fast it progressed, or slowly, or whether it was the same for everybody, you know I knew very little really.

On my last day in Paris, it was like the old days, we had special food and talked and laughed a great deal. Next day I left for London after telling my mother not to worry, we will keep regularly in touch by phone, she seemed quite confident. I wished I felt the same but I tried to put a brave face on. Deep down I knew it was only a question of time before I had to come again.

But this time I had the telephone number of all the neighbours, the concierge, the doctors, neurologist, social workers, etc. If things went wrong not only I will know quickly I could also get in touch with the right person or vice versa. I also made notes of important information especially for administration purposes. French bureaucracy is notorious for being demanding and very slow.

For the next two months I literally spent hours on the telephone with my mother daily, in fact it was like caring at a distance, she would phone me more often, either it was complaining about the home help or she needed to ask me where such and such papers were. Or guiding her step by step on how to use the mixer or other appliances, basically it was a question of reassurance and practical help. I would phone her to remind her of an appointment or what happened when she had seen the neurologist or her GP, find out the date of the next appointment, if I didn’t she will forget. In fact I was acting as a secretary as well.

But all this at the time, were talking about, she was still independent in the flat. I was very worried about, we were all very worried about the security of it but after a bit we decided there was nothing, just nothing we could do. I didn’t realise at the time that this man in the flat actually in the block of flats, actually had a key.

The lady next door was frightened of her, the lady next door was worried about her wanderings and the fact that she left, the door open and she was also worried about her cooking on the gas stove. And so were we.

She always remembered how to use the microwave which was good, so she did use the, she, the microwave what she used up till the end. I think we disconnected the gas stove. I’ve got a feeling we disconnected the gas stove in the end. And, and she didn’t particularly notice I don’t think that it had gone. And she, and so when she did use things it was just the microwave, so it was lucky that shed, the microwave was part of her, her sort of memory bank.

It was, managing in the flat. Yes. She actually kept herself very clean, she always kept her clothes beautifully clean and the flat looked clean, if you, if you didn’t look too closely. I don’t know how it, how she hoovered but it always looked very tidy, it all looked very nice actually it was, it was always a pleasure to go in there.

And phone calls, she knew my phone number, it would just go on and on, there’d be days I’d get twenty phone calls, not knowing what she was doing, where she was supposed to be, what was happening to her, it would just go on and shed get into a loop and couldn’t

But she was still managing to live alone, do things but it’s difficult. I was doing frequent visits up to Scotland and she would, every now and again she would take it in her mind, shed come to England and shed come and see people. Then shed take herself off on trains and be OK.

I was going up more often to Scotland, she was coming less on her own. But we are, she was still managing to do things on her own. She went to Austria on holiday, she went to Spain on holiday and on all of those occasions I had comments from friends saying she can’t really manage this any more so, I’m trying to date it now but I can’t remember when the exactnbsp; But she was still very adamant that she could do all these things on her own and I was beginning to have to warn people that they might find her difficult and that she wouldn’t be the same and they might have tout still allowing her to do all that.

But I didn’t want her to get in a mess and her friends not know what had happened to her so I was beginning to have to say ‘You may find shes forgetful’ or ‘Let me know if theres a problem and I’ll come and sort her out or whatever.

The last six months was horrific and I can only say it was a nightmare with me having to go up to Scotland once a month and, fielding her care from here was a series of carers, the GP, their unit, until we could get her a place. When I eventually, when we eventually got her a place, well, no she came to, it wasn’t really a crisis but it got to the point where the neighbours couldn’t sustain it any longer.

I begged and pleaded the consultant to take her into hospital for an assessment because I didn’t think we could manage to get her into care from home. And they took her in and they sectioned her actually for an emergency section first and then a twenty-eight days while I found some appropriate care.