Heather Roberts was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease when she was 50. She struggles to remember simple facts and can become easily confused. But Heather, now 55, has not let this stop her from working to raise awareness of the illness. Although it’s very difficult for her to write, she has managed to keep a diary describing a week in her life.

MONDAY

We had been home from a holiday in the Maldives for several days but somehow my brain was just too addled to take it all in.

The holiday washing was nearly all done but I could not get back into the routine I rely on normally.

I wandered around the house looking for clues as to what I should be doing and there it was – the fish tank needed attention.

My husband, Dave, and I went to the garden centre to buy a new fish.

In the garden centre I was standing looking at the fish knowing I wanted to buy one but struggling to remember the name of it.

Minor panic hit me as the assistant approached – what was it called?

“I want one of those” I said, pointing at the tank.

I was told the fish was called a platy, and wondered how long I would remember that name.

TUESDAY

We were in London at the Alzheimer’s Society and by the time we left at 3.30pm I was exhausted.

Travelling by underground was quite difficult for me because the noise, the crowds and the bustle was just too much for my brain to cope with, so I had to keep tight hold of Dave’s hand to get me through.

Once on the train home I could relax, although I did have a shock when I stepped out of the toilets, as I was not sure which way it was back to my seat.

Panic set in for a couple of seconds until I saw which way to go.

By the time I reached home I was utterly exhausted and my speech was beginning to fall apart.

I enjoy my role as an Ambassador. I’ve spoken to MPs, been on television, met celebrities, spoken to the House of Lords and had my say about the implementation of the new Dementia Strategy.

This is all part of my strategy of coping with Alzheimer’s – I am not going to win against this disease but at least I am going to go down fighting and laughing all the way.

WEDNESDAY

I had noticed a piece in the papers about a trial of a possible new drug for Alzheimer’s so we had to travel to Manchester to see if I was suitable.

My map-reading skills had deserted me and I kept asking where we are going.

When we got there it became clear that I was just too well for the trial as they would have struggled to assess whether the drugs were working or not.

But I know that in the end I will see a decline until there is almost none of the real me left.

I am lucky that I have been prescribed the drug Aricept and that extensive testing has shown that my memory decline has slowed significantly.

I have been on the drug for just over four years and it is still working well for me.

THURSDAY

Thursday was tennis day. I have played tennis from childhood, representing my county as a teenager, so the skills are deep in my memory but the game I play today is far removed from what I would have played a few years ago.

I played by instinct, hoping that somehow my brain would know where and how to hit the ball. Keeping score was just about impossible so I had to let the others keep track for me.

We played the game for enjoyment, and laughter was a big part of that.

After the game, we staggered home and I was totally exhausted so I slipped away and found solace with our cats. They seem to understand when I have a bad day.

On these days I can not even recognise the walls of my own home because reality and past memories all interweave and I can not tell which is real.

I spend these days in front of the fish tank with a cat or two for company until it passes.

FRIDAY

This was the day when I tried to demonstrate my independence. I still plan and do all the food shopping, relying on lists to keep track of what I need, and I am still driving.

My licence to drive is reviewed every year and I am careful where I drive as I get lost very easily.

I do carry a mobile phone as a safety back-up and I have been known to phone the family for directions occasionally.

When I passed through the doors of the supermarket I found that it had done its favourite trick and turned the store around again.

That was my worst nightmare because I had to learn a completely new route.

Clutching the list I started off round the store but it took me at least a dozens circuits before I found what I needed.

As the items were scanned through I stopped for a minute to think about the wretched pin number. I forget numbers really easily but find that if I create a mental picture of the number it helps.

For example, 5799 becomes Heinz baked beans over a 99 ice cream cone.

I made it home safely but found I was missing some of the things that I should have bought.

SATURDAY

Our daughter arrived with our grandson, an active two-year-old. He loves his visits to us and does not detect anything is wrong with me.

In the future I want him to remember these times with affection and not look at the shell I will become when the Alzheimer’s really takes hold.

We have never tried to hide my diagnosis from the family and have been open and honest with them all.

Our daughter has accepted it but our son denies that there is anything wrong and does all he can to block it all out.

I still look the same, I still act the same, I still provide fabulous food when needed but what they don’t see is all the hard work and angst that goes on behind the facade.

My brain is damaged and has to work twice as hard to keep pace with normality.

SUNDAY

We kept away from the crowds and took ourselves into the countryside for a peaceful walk.

I had so much to enjoy – the blue sky, the green fields and the new shoots of spring on their way.

I tried to drink in all of these pleasures and store away the memories.

My memory is very poor. Sometimes I will remember lots of bizarre things, but forget all the big events, while other times I will remember odd parts of things and mix them up with totally unrelated things but to me it’s all real and true.

We are also trying to squash in all those places we want to visit around the world before I become too ill to travel.

Sadly, the travel insurance companies take a very dim view of my dementia and it has been a real nightmare finding insurance.

Far too many people are too ready to write you off at the first whiff of a diagnosis of dementia.

But I have got news for you – I am not ready to be written off yet.

At the moment, the score is Heather one, Alzheimer’s nil!