05/08/2026
I'm working super long days this week. I've got a lot on, and I want to take some time for a holiday soon, so I could point to that as the reason. But looking back over my whole career, this is simply how I have always worked.
I love what I do. I want to help people live better lives, for as long as possible, in whatever way is still open to them, because nothing else compares to dementia.
Every family I sit with is losing something. The person living with dementia is losing pieces of themselves. The people who love them are grieving while their whole life changes, day by day. And too often, the support both of them need simply is not there.
That is heartbreaking, every time, without exception.
I still work far more than I should, regardless. Just now, I came across an interview with Fiona Phillips' husband, who put their experience into words better than most people manage. He said Fiona will likely never again taste a glass of wine, walk on a beach properly, go on holiday, or sit in a theatre.
Hearing that saddened me deeply, because it is not a rare story. It is the experience of so many people, regardless of who they are or where they come from. It reminded me exactly why I do this work, and how privileged I am to support people through the hardest time of their lives.
I often feel guilty choosing work over time with family and friends.
People tell me I'll regret it one day.
But I am enjoying life.
My work isn't simply a job; it's a calling.
That interview made me ask myself honestly whether I will regret this.
There is still so much work to do. Every day, people living with dementia and the families who love them need greater understanding and support.
If I can bring even one family a moment of peace today, it matters. But my goal is bigger than that—to build something that reaches far beyond me, so more families receive the support, understanding and compassion they deserve.
https://lnkd.in/p/eDDugHdx
