Total strangers will come up to me and talk about dementia
STAR’S NEW FILM HIGHLIGHTS TRAUMA OF ILLNESS Actress reveals how role resonated with viewers
BIG HIT Glenda in TV movie Elizabeth Is Missing
Emma Pryer
Acting royalty Glenda Jackson has been drawing attention for decades... but her latest role triggered a wave of public emotion that surprised even her.
The star has been touched by the reaction to her part as a dementia sufferer in acclaimed TV film Elizabeth Is Missing.
Glenda, 84, plays Maud, who struggles to make sense of her friend Elizabeth’s disappearance. It highlights the trauma of dementia and the effect on families – an issue which former Labour MP Glenda says political parties must unite to tackle.
She said: “There has to be a real coming together on how we can properly fund this big black hole. They must learn from the experiences of care homes and look at this issue of families having to sell homes to fund care for those suffering.
“Dementia is something we have to take very, very seriously and provide care for.”
An estimated 850,000 people live with dementia in the UK.
In 2019 Boris Johnson pledged an extra £ 80million of funding into research as part of the Tory manifesto. But there was no word of it in this month’s Budget.
During her 23 years as MP for Hampstead and Highgate, north London, Glenda visited people’s homes and saw families desolated by the illness.
The insight helped mould her honest depiction of Maud, who tries to piece together her muddled memories. The role
has earned her an Emmy and a Bafta and Glenda is nominated again as best actress in Tuesday’s virtual Royal Television Society Awards.
Maud’s woes have clearly resonated with viewers. Glenda said: “It clearly struck home because I’d be going down the street and a total stranger would come up who’d seen it and share their experience.
“There was a running theme through everything people told me – helplessness, of having a parent or loved one who doesn’t recognise them any more.”
The double Oscar-winner, who lives in Blackheath, London, says she wouldn’t be surprised if she also got dementia, adding: “I don’t worry but I do find I can’t remember names sometimes. I went into the kitchen half an hour ago and I stood at the door and thought, ‘Why am I here?’”
As a young doctor working at Glasgow’s Royal Infirmary during the 80s, John Quin was used to patching up victims of the city’s brutal gang wars – but even he was unprepared for what was to become one of Scotland’s most notorious mass murders.
John, who had dealt with everything from sword injuries to the victims of axe attacks, witnessed the chaos after several members of the Doyle family were rushed to hospital following a firebomb attack in the stairwell leading to their top-floor flat at the height of the so-called Ice Cream Wars.
Almost 40 years later, he st i l l remembers the horror he faced at the hospital ’s accident and emergency department.
John, 59, who spent 33 years working as a medic, said: “It’s one of those scenes you never forget. The Doyle family came in as a group package after their house was firebombed. They came in some time after 2am. I arrived for the morning shift just after 7am to carnage.
“Initially I didn’t know what had happened. What were white coats on the backs of my colleagues were now black rags stained with soot. Everyone looked shattered.
“I remember meeting my friend for the handover. His face was smeared with black stains and his coat too was covered in streaks of charcoal.
“He looked she l l - shocked, exhausted, his pupils were large and he had a thousand-yard stare. He told me they’d had to repeat the taking of bloods because they filled out forms saying, ‘ Here’s blood from a J Doyle.’ But then they realised there was more than one J Doyle. It was horrendous.
“People talked a lot about the Vietnam War. Being in A& E felt similar to being in the jungle under fire. It certainly did that day.”
Of the nine members of the Doyle family sleeping in their Ruchazie flat when it was attacked in April 1984, six died, including an 18-month-old baby.
The tragedy is one of many that John says sticks out when he looks back over his distinguished career in medicine but he says there were many light-hearted moments too.
He has pulled together a collection of his most memorable highs and lows in a book he has written about his career – Dr Quin, Medicine Man.
John, who spent the first half of his career working in Glasgow and the second half in England, said: “One of the reasons I became a doctor was because when I was growing up I’d watched the TV show M*A*S*H. I l i ked
People talked a lot about the Vietnam War. Being in A&E felt similar to being in the jungle under fire… it certainly did that day