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When asked if she was feeling alright Val would consistently reply that 'she was fine', and that there was nothing wrong. She was absolutely consistent in this, and did not want to see a doctor. After some weeks, with the situation clearing getting no better, I finally insisted and the doctor's appointment was set for 1 December 1998. In the intervening period, our son Guy was Confirmed. I made all the arrangements for this event, whereas previously Val would have undertaken this. It was clear by then to all Val's assembled family that she was not well, although we were all equally puzzled as to what the problem was.

Our doctor provisionally diagnosed Val as suffering from an under active thyroid condition, prescribed blood tests and referred Val to a Consultant Psychiatrist. Mercifully I had private medical insurance, so that the consultation was able to take place quite quickly, and did so in early January 1999. Prior to that consultation I had noted down all of Val's odd behaviours.

A selection of these is:

• Loss of memory/becoming forgetful

• Would sometimes drive to Devizes (our nearest town) several times a day to perform one task

• Began talking about events which took place many years ago, which she would repeat, seemingly unaware of the repetition

• Ate hungrily, whereas previously she had eaten sparingly

• Would go to the lavatory much more frequently than previously

• Was losing interest in her clothes and physical appearance

• Would go to bed early, at this time around 9pm

• Liked to watch extracts from choice videos frequently

• Not seeking external society, only comfortable with people she knew well

• Occasional childlike behaviour, but only in privacy of home

• Not obviously unhappy, possibly even the reverse.

Doctor Lodge, Consultant Psychiatrist at Green Lane Hospital. Devizes. confirmed the provisional diagnosis of an under active thyroid condition, notwithstanding that Val's blood test had come back negative. He said that this was not unusual with this condition, and that sometimes it could take some weeks (or even months) for the blood test to show positive. Val had another blood test, and we saw Doctor Lodge again in February 1999. By then Val's behaviour had become increasingly odd and erratic, she would go off in the car on relatively long journeys (to Swindon and Bath) for the most trivial of reasons, or indeed for no reason at all. At the February meeting with Doctor Lodge, the second blood test having come back negative, and it being obvious that Val's condition was deteriorating, Doctor Lodge did say to me (as an aside) that it could possibly be 'one of these nasty brain disorders', but still said he thought that it was unlikely and that the under active thyroid condition remained the most likely cause. However, he did suggest Val had a brain scan, which duly took place, but which also came back negative. At the time the negative brain scan seemed reassuring, because it did at least rule out tumours.

Val's condition deteriorated alarmingly and sharply at the end of February 1999, to the point that the daily routines of life started to become quite difficult. Fortunately the school holidays came, with Guy and our daughter Charlotte being at home, and able to keep an eye on Mum, although respectively only 14 and 9 at the time. My concern then was such that I arranged an appointment with our solicitor to go and write our wills, which we duly did at the end of March 1999.

Another blood test came back negative, and I was becoming very concerned. By now I was coming back home early from work, doing house work in the evenings and generally trying to keep the wheels from coming off at home. The children, despite their youth, were extremely helpful and able to exert some control over Mum. In particular, on occasion, they took away her car keys to stop her driving off on pointless outings.

A good friend, who had the misfortune to have a child who suffered from Canavan's disease (another extremely rare and unpleasant brain disorder), had told me of the existence of something called an MRI scan, which in his case had provided a diagnosis where all else had failed. I mentioned this to Doctor Lodge, who agreed that it was appropriate by now for Val to have such a scan. My private medical insurance was again invaluable, because Val was able to jump the queue, and she duly had the MRI scan at Bath Royal United Hospital on Thursday 15 April 1999.

Doctor Lodge told us that the outcome of the MRI scan was conclusive, that there was a diagnosis, and that there was a serious problem. He asked me (not Val) whether we 'wanted to hear it all now'. After seven months I was desperate to know the problem, so I said to Doctor Lodge that ’I would like to hear it all'. He said, very precisely. that Val was almost certainly suffering from Pick's disease, a form of dementia for which there is no known cause or treatment, and that the average life expectancy post diagnosis for a sufferer with this condition is 5.6 years.

Nothing can prepare one for such a catastrophic diagnosis, but whilst I produced the normal emotional response Val did not bat an eyelid, or react in any way. Doctor Lodge may as well have said it is raining outside (which it was) for all the apparent difference it would have made to her. It was her complete failure to react, or seemingly to comprehend the significance of what she had heard, that made me realise just how ill she must be. Doctor Lodge referred Val to a Consultant Neurologist, although he did confirm that there was little doubt as to the diagnosis, in part because her condition was sufficiently advanced for there to be a considerable measure of certainty as to the atrophy pattern from the MRI scan being consistent with Pick's Disease. This was obviously a mixed blessing, sad in that it was telling us that the illness had already progressed significantly, but positive in at least giving a firm diagnosis and removing doubt and uncertainty.

We went home, stopping on the way to see Val's sister and tell her the news. This was another memorable experience, not least because of Val saying that she had been told she only had 5.6 years to live, but that 'everything would be alright, John!' The enormity of the situation simply failed to register with her. On the way home from Val's sister's house. I remember desperately trying to think what I was going to tell the Guy and Charlotte. I am a poor liar, and given my emotional state it was obvious to me that any attempt at subterfuge was impossible. Guy has since said to me that it was plain from my face that evening that it was very bad news. I duly told Guy and Charlotte the outcome, there were huge hugs and floods of tears between us, but Val went straight to bed. Her emotions were all wrong. My abiding memory of that dreadful evening is of Guy howling like a wounded animal on being told of his Mother's condition.

I did not go into work the next day, and as it transpired never went back to work again.

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