Life would have been so different if there had been a cure for my beloved father
My family’s experience is testament to the value that a cure for Alzheimer’s would bring. But ours is not the only story. “What support is there for my loved one living with dementia?” That’s a question I heard all too often as a Member of Parliament.
I had undertaken a very brief dementia training course, so I had some awareness of the condition but it wasn’t until 2016 that this question took on a new meaning for me. My beloved father, Peter Griffith, had started obsessing over minor things and struggled with driving. He was soon diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
Having been a barrister for more than 30 years, words were his living. He read voraciously and took great pleasure in heated debate – usually with me about politics. Seeing him unable to find the right words was incredibly sad to watch.
I felt a profound loss after his diagnosis, even though he was still physically there. Not having his wisdom and perspective to guide me through Brexit and preparations for the 2017 general election was particularly challenging. It marked the start of a “new normal” for who my father now was. My mother had to take on a new identity as his carer.
My father sadly died last November, aged 85. In the weeks around his death, I remember seeing the headline “Alzheimer’s memory loss drug set for NHS”. The news of a new drug, lecanemab, was gathering momentum across the UK following its success in a clinical trial. And just last week, the drug’s manufacturer Eisai announced it had submitted an application to the Medicines and Healthcare products Regulatory Agency (MHRA), the UK’s medicine watchdog. Should lecanemab be approved, it would be the first new Alzheimer’s drug here for nearly 20 years.
How different our lives would have been, had there been an effective drug my father could have taken. The difference this would have made not only to him, but to my mother, is unbounded.