PATRICK WILLIAMS (1933-2023): NOW HE IS DEAD

In Berlin, 2016

Now that he is dead, I don’t have to concern myself any more about his dementia, his health, do I?  It is over and all I can do is assure myself, whenever I feel sorrow and self-reproach, that I did do my best.

It wasn’t an easy task.  When my sister and I took over responsibility for his life and his health, I personally had to utilise what wisdom I possessed in acknowledging and accepting that he was (in spite of his dementia) a man of independence, a man with autonomy and intelligence, a man of pride, dignity and stubbornness, and therefore it was not in MY remit to make him choose anything.  I could only offer. But when I discovered the incredible harm our diets can do to our health, I was eager to share this and try to bring some changes in the hope it might improve his dementia and his osteoporosis. 

I knew that it was difficult for him, as a father, to accept new (perhaps questionable) knowledge from his own daughter, a daughter he already considered somewhat eccentric!  I knew for sure he had no real conviction that food, diet, was important in the make-up and functioning of our bodies.

I got that, because I was the same for most of my life.  Food was food … it was there for us to enjoy, to relish, and although I knew that nutrition was important, I rather ignored that fact when it was suggested that I could perhaps improve my health by giving up something I was in love with or, rather, was addicted to.  It was pure cognitive dissonance. And maybe greed.

This fit, adventurous, previously healthy man was first diagnosed with osteoporosis in January 2020. This was a shock in itself, even though he was 87.

But it was my concern and horror when, in March 2021, he was then diagnosed with dementia with Lewy Bodies, a horrible and apparently incurable disease, that shook me into action.

I am glad now that his GP did give us the gruesome details. And I wept on hearing that this dear dignified man would not only become incontinent but would end up not being able to swallow. That in particular was unbearable.

The horror of this made me go home and research ways in which we might be able to help him mitigate, or even stabilise this horrible disease.  I didn’t really imagine, at that point, that there was anything that could cure it.

But what did I know?  Nothing, it turned out.  Nothing.  And when I saw that there was something, more than something we could do to at least mitigate it, and that something involved diet, I was, in spite of disliking cooking and having no real interest in nutrition, immediately able to plunge straight into what turned out to be a world of beauty!

Because it is beautiful!  The understanding I gained, that each and every component of the food we eat can feed, strengthen and renew each cell, the entire the structure of our bodies and that it can also poison and bring degeneration to those same cells, that same body, was miraculous to me!   

This image shows a single cell, magnified umpteen times.  An awe-inspiring thing of beauty!

Why hadn’t I realised this before?  

Because I was not interested.  Because I didn’t want to give up foods I was addicted to.  Because I was young and felt invincible.  Because I didn’t care for myself enough.  Because I couldn’t be bothered. 

But I cared about my father, and it was that care, that protectiveness, that horror at knowing what he was in for, that woke me up and made me bother.

And now he is dead.  

But I did, to give myself credit, give it my best shot. I encouraged him and I did succeed in arranging a visit to a nutritionist for advice to, hopefully, back up my research. 

And she affirmed what I had learned, that sugar, refined flour and refined carbohydrates were best cut right down to help reduce the insulin resistance & resulting inflammation which research was showing was contributing to the increase in degenerative neurological diseases like dementia and Parkinson's.

She affirmed that the nutrition from bone broth (containing minerals and collagen for bone health), good ruminant meat, eggs, the glorious Omega-3 oil in salmon and sardines, coconut oil and MCT oil, with non-starchy vegetables, could only enhance his health, and certainly his bone strength and brain function.

I learned that certain kinds of protein help keep aging muscles strong, thus guarding against any sarcopenia, with the accompanying likelihood of falls and thus fractures.

DIRTY DRUGS

Our nutritionist agreed, vehemently, that there may have been important nutritional deficiencies caused by the over-prescription of the PPI, Omeprazole.  She agreed that we should ensure he particularly had enough Vitamin B12, via animal-based foods and supplements, to replace any that had been lost.

Here is a Youtube video, put up as recently as 20 November 2023. It is a presentation by Dr Patrick Holford (www.foodforthebrain.org) and hosted by the B12 Deficiency Support Group.

'Is B12 deficiency Driving Cognitive Decline and Mental Illness?'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JriH4wEOz4k

In the video, Dr Patrick Holford touches on the subject of Proton Pump Inhibitors (PPIs), a drug prescribed for stomach/digestive issues.

Look at this research he shows, published on 31 October 2023, regarding these 'dirty' (Dr Holford's word) drugs:

I've kept the above image big because it is so damned important. It is heartbreaking for me to realise that our father took this drug, not only for weeks but for years. A canny doctor took him off it when she realised, belatedly, that he was likely developing dementia. Too late I am afraid.

This hurts. It hurts multiplied by two because, as well as dementia, osteoporosis is also a side effect from taking this very dirty drug.

But getting back to the positive, to diet. I was heartened when he really endeavoured to reduce his sugar and flour intake as advised by the nutritionist. He wanted to lose the weight around his middle more than anything, and I didn’t blame him.  He wanted to be able to wear his stylish trousers again!

A dandy in Darmstadt, May 2018, three years

before his dementia diagnosis.

I was glad, not only for that optimistic reason, but also because she explained that reducing any visceral fat could only help in reducing inflammation in his body and in his brain.

He could not longer cook, and happily neither could his live-in carer, and so my sister and I, who took over the care at weekends, took on the task of preparing the food for each coming week.

And I took such joy in learning to how to make bone broth, and in cooking the hearty stews he loved, using tallow or MCT-rich coconut oil rather than processed oils, and making delicious gravy from scratch without resorting to commercial stock cubes and sugar-infused flavourings.

I invented my own Bisque soup as a way to give him oily fish in a palatable form.

I learned to make flour-less muffins, rather like weeny pastry-less quiches, using eggs and salmon. I loved making Omega 3-loaded mackerel paté, as well as chicken liver paté.

Both my sister and I experimented and tried to produce healthy desserts (or, at least, healthier than bought versions) with no flour, and no sugar.   My chocolate mousse, my truffles, made with coconut oil, cream, egg yolks, organic cacao powder (or, sometimes, very dark chocolate), and softened blueberries or prunes (to add some sweetness), were divine.  And he loved them.

Did this culinary push make any difference? I was beginning to cautiously think so.

We'd been told that the prescribed drug, Donepizil, would work to hold the dementia at bay for only about a year before a gradual but untreatable decline would then start. But by mid-April 2023 he'd reached the two year mark!  And so I felt a constant springing of hope in my heart that the dietary measures, and the B12 supplements, were doing something positive! Two years!

He did, though, start to gradually fall back into eating the alluring biscuits and pastries and, again, although it disappointed me, I could not blame him.  His life had become smaller and I of all people knew what it meant to compulsively reach for comfort at difficult times.  He had been doing well, though and, on top of the healthier meals, I did feel that the reduction in sugar and refined, processed products had been keeping him at least stable. Wishful thinking? I don't know.

Newspaper on pause, he stops to listen to a particular favourite (was it Layla, or Baker Street?) on Johnny Walker’s Sounds of the Seventies on Radio 2, October 2022.

But he was still doing his best to keep moving, keep reading, keep listening to music.  We all celebrated his 90th birthday at his favourite dive in April 2023. He was eagerly anticipating a trip (by train, tube and bus) to The Proms with his helpmeet, his grandson Sam, later in the year.

And it makes me weep, with hot tears that sting my eyes and make my throat ache, and with an inner anguish, to think that our efforts were, perhaps, too little, too late.

I use the word “perhaps” because late-Spring we did start to notice very small signs that the dementia was starting to leak through. Was it the increased sugar and flour? It is possible. But we kept doing our best.

But then in May, a month after his final Covid 19 booster, he walked alone to the Co-op with the help of his wheeled walker, referred to in true humorous fashion as Giovanni. He had a 'freezing' episode, typical of Lewy Bodies dementia, whilst there. He had a very avoidable accident/fall when his carer came to assist him. He was checked over a couple of days later at the hospital, with no injuries apparent.

However, by the end of the week, we realised he had had a stroke at some point during those few days. He had to be hospitalised.

During his two months there in hospital, I sat and watched my work being undone. Because of the stroke he had to be fed manufactured liquid food via a naso-gastric tube

After the naso-gastric tube was removed, ready-cooked (pureed) food, supplements made with processed oil. and sugary desserts, were served. But by then he could hardly stay awake to eat anything. So even though I was able to bring him some bone broth and MCT oil-infused chocolate mousses, I knew because of this that it was a futile attempt.    

But how will I ever know? Because, in spite of two months in hospital, he declined and then died five days after he was discharged to a carefully-chosen nursing home.

Typing those words brings tears immediately.  I try to repress them (I'm fed up with crying!) and instead my nose gets all painful and itchy and I sneeze uncontrollably.  I sneeze out the pain.  Little droplets of regret and agony spreading through the air around me.

But perhaps that is what I must do! Spread it!  Just because he is dead, it does not mean that I can’t spread that knowledge, that information, that real hope that your fathers, your mothers, your loved spouses and siblings and precious friends, need not suffer! 

They need not suffer and they could even come to realise and accept that these ‘degenerative’ diseases are not inevitable at all!   Or that, if already experienced, could be at least alleviated, if not cured!

Dr Bredeson's research suggests that the 'amyloid plaques' and protein tangles characteristic in dementias are not the cause but are rather a defence mechanism provided by the immune system to protect the brain against dangerous assaults. In fact, it was revealed recently that the 'amyloid plaque' hypothesis was founded on faulty research. https://www.drugdiscoverynews.com/what-now-for-the-amyloid-hypothesis-15611. Some researchers are, in fact, calling dementia 'Type 3 Diabetes'. All interesting to consider!

Please, for pity’s sake, try and open your mind to this.  Health is more than waiting until your body breaks down and then accepting drugs to deal with that breakdown.   Health is potentially a radiant and vibrant state, reflecting your inner self.  An inner self based on respect for and adoration of the incredible machine that is your body. Independence of mind will not just accept decline.  Independence of mind is a refusal to believe everything you hear and read, without researching for yourself its validity!

Yes, that applied to me too.  I knew I couldn’t take this information about diet and health without verifying it was from reputable and supported sources.  I would have been naive otherwise, and foolish.

Even if my work in my daddy's kitchen could not overcome any damage already done by the drugs mentioned above, surely the reduction of sugar and inflammatory foods at least gave him a bit of a chance to maintain or even improve his general health? 

Although occasionally I felt that I was on a fool's errand, I do give myself credit for being brave enough to at least try, certainly to do things way beyond my comfort zone.

While he was in hospital, I actually mourned the loss of my place in his kitchen, cooking him nourishing stews and soups.  I had to give all that up and it bloody well hurt. It felt very much like grief.

So since he died I have been avoiding reading about any research that might confirm improvement in people similar to my father.  I've been fearing I would not be able to bear it.  Too late for him, and too late for me to make a real difference.

Then this morning I saw a particular Youtube video entitled ‘Her Dementia is Gone!’.  No thank you, I said.  Please don’t remind me of what I couldn’t do!  

I saw then that it was an interview between a very reputable (and very handsome!) carnivore-recommending doctor, Dr Anthony Chaffee, and the proprietor of a chain of nursing homes in the USA who has been seeking to improve his clients’ health through dietary adjustment.  And some of his residents are getting better!  So I made myself watch it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8owAcO8lIwY

I had actually heard of this man whilst my father was still alive.  As a result, I’d started to dream that, once my father was ensconced in his nursing home, I might be able to have some input at the home, for him primarily, but which might also start to improve the health of all the old people!  

But there was no time for that. He died five days later.

And have I got the emotional energy to keep on with that crazy dream now that he, the precious focus of my efforts, is dead?  You see, his death was not an easy one.  It left me and my sister full of agony, mostly because we'd had to step back and surrender our own caring input to a hospital that was not run well.

When he left hospital it was immediately seen by the nursing home staff that he was coming to the end of his life,. When he contracted aspiration-associated pneumonia two days later we had to make a decision as to whether he should be hospitalised again.  God forbid!  There was no question about it! 

And so we had then to decide whether we wanted him to actually be treated, in situ, for the pneumonia. It was pointed out that he was dying anyway, and that, with his asphagia making aspiration-associated pneumonia a constant risk, he would likely need repeated antibiotic treatments as he, at the same time, declined. Was there any point in putting him through that while at the same time seeing him in the terrible discomfort caused by his dementia?

We were asked whether, alternatively, we might consider the head nurses’s suggestion: that he be given ‘end of life care’.  

End of life care equals the administering of drugs that ease the person from life to death.

Yes.  We did agree, and he was unaware of anything, as far as we can tell, during his final hours.  We were there when he died, and we were glad that it was all over.

His suffering was over.  From that point of view, there are no regrets. 

But there are whispers occasionally, in my resting mind, that we may have robbed him of what a natural death would have given him, soul-wise.  Did we rob him of something he needed spiritually at the end of his journey on earth purely because we could not bear to see him suffering bodily any more?

These are ethical, spiritual, religious, personal questions.   Not everyone cares or thinks about such things.  But many do, and I want to address them. 

Life does contain suffering, yes, but I believe it is our sacred duty to be awake, through our oft-expressed love, to information that may relieve or avoid suffering in our families, that may improve their lives!

If we really take this duty seriously, and take the trouble to look deeper, we won’t be left with the pain of seeing a loved one suffering so badly, and certainly won’t be so likely to have to make life-and-death decisions (frankly, to be cruelly blunt, to feel like judge and executioner) at their end.

I would like to be able to help people avoid such a situation.  It is horrible. And I will have to reckon with my own conscience for the rest of my life.

A CONCLUSION

I think we have more control over our health than we have been led to believe. I don’t care if I am seen to be unrealistic, or naive.  I am proudly idealistic.  I want to be part of this new movement, worldwide, led by compassionate doctors and researchers, who want to help us regain our health and our joy and who want to remind us that we are naturally designed to thrive. And that the food we eat is so incredibly important if we are to thrive. 

If we unquestioningly choose the products of the commercially-driven processed food and pharmaceutical companies then, as these doctors point out, we will likely not thrive.

Big Food and Big Pharma’s profits, however, will. 

So this is why I will keep on researching, and sharing, even though he, my treasured father, is dead.

THE END