Monday, 11 March 2019

Still hard to swallow

(A note before I begin this blog: You should not consider anything written in this blog as medical advice for you or anyone you care for).

With over 200 blogs on D4Dementia now, some of them approaching 7 years old in May this year, I've decided to spend my 2019 year of blogging by re-visiting some of the topics I’ve covered previously, throwing fresh light on why they remain relevant, and updating them with some of my more recent experiences. This month, I want to look at dysphagia (swallowing problems).

By a huge margin my most popular D4Dementia blog post is ‘Hard to swallow’, which charts the four years that my dad lived with dysphagia alongside his vascular dementia. In that blog I explained dysphagia as follows:
"Something that is sadly very common in advanced dementia is the decline of the swallowing reflex. The condition, known as dysphagia, is extremely distressing for both the person affected and those caring for them, and can be fatal, either directly through choking or indirectly by setting up aspiration pneumonia. 
"The uncontrollable coughing that often accompanies a swallowing problem, indicating that something taken orally has gone into the trachea (windpipe) instead of the oesophagus, can leave the person affected gasping for breath, red-faced and sweating. For anyone who has witnessed someone choking, it is a terrifying moment."
I wrote Hard to swallow in September 2012, less than 5 months after my dad had died from an aspiration pneumonia, so to say this is a topic close to my heart is an understatement. But it must also be remembered that with previous good support my dad lived reasonably well with dysphagia (and no teeth!), still enjoyed food and drinks and maintained mostly adequate levels of nutrition and hydration, so there is hope and positivity too. See my interview with Nourish by Jane Clarke for more insights into my dad's dysphagia.

In the years since dad died I have met numerous people who are living with dementia and dysphagia, and yet despite this swallowing problems are frequently the elephant in the room when thinking about the progression of dementia. Families often write to me, having read my Hard to swallow blog, saying that they simply had no idea that as their loved one’s dementia progressed they would develop swallowing problems.

As a result they feel unprepared, unsure of how to care for their loved one and, frankly, so frightened they worry about supporting their loved one to take anything orally, be that food, drinks or medication. Why we don’t talk about dysphagia more is a mystery to me - understanding how to support a person helps hugely in dispelling myths and calming fears. Dysphagia doesn’t have to be a watchword for unpalatable meals that look like vomit mush, or an undignified experience at every mealtime. As I said in my Hard to swallow blog: 
"Despite my father’s advanced dementia, the Speech and Language therapist was successful in assessing him when his swallowing problems were first identified… and gave us excellent advice that helped to give dad quality of life and give us confidence in caring for him."
That professional support is key, but as is so often the way as services are cut and becoming overstretched it can be support that is very hard to come by. Indeed, in some countries (I’ve had emails from around the world from families whose loved ones are living with dementia and dysphagia) such support doesn’t exist at all as someone who wrote to me from South America in 2016 explained:
"Unfortunately we don't have speech therapists who can guide me on how to handle my dad’s dysphagia. I import liquid thickeners to adjust the consistency of his drinks."
As if supporting a person with dysphagia isn’t daunting enough, to be in this position is intolerable. With such a lack of face-to-face professional support for many families, I hope that the tips and advice online - including those in my Hard to swallow blog - are helpful.

In the years since my dad died, my training and mentoring with care providers has enabled me to understand additional methods for supporting a person with dementia and dysphagia that go beyond those documented in my 2012 blog, and I wanted to share some of those here:

   Straws can cause problems - Liquid drawn through a straw can often hit a person’s mouth faster than that taken without a straw, making straws potentially dangerous for some people with dysphagia. 
   Be especially patient in helping the person to drink - Thickened drinks take many people with dysphagia longer than you might imagine to consume, and most thickeners also make drinks more filling. Therefore little and often is a really important motto for helping to keep a person with dysphagia hydrated.
   Equally, for many people with dysphagia meals are often best provided little and often - The effort required to process food in the mouth and swallow it for a person with dysphagia is immense, far greater than for a person without dysphagia. So the idea of three set meals a day and those meals filling the person up isn’t a sensible approach. Try smaller portions, that the person can eat at their own pace in shorter periods of time, and follow up with further small portions throughout the day at times when the person is alert and correctly positioned upright to eat and drink.
   Try using teaspoons to support a person to eat - This will naturally make each mouthful a smaller amount than larger cutlery will provide.
   If the person you are supporting doesn’t like the taste of thickeners (and despite what the manufacturers say, thickeners do change the taste of foods and drinks), natural alternatives I’ve seen that are popular (though never tried with my dad) include smooth-mashed avocado, smooth peanut butter (providing the person isn’t allergic to nuts), thick Greek yogurt or kefir (if the person can tolerate dairy products), smooth-mashed banana and smooth-mashed or pulverised cannellini beans. Obviously the choice you make depends on whether you are trying to thicken a savoury or sweet food or beverage, and if that food or drink is being served hot or cold.
   Some people have said to me that making foods or drinks sour, for example by adding lemon juice, helps to trigger the swallowing reflex.
   Don’t eat too close to bedtime - Ideally allow 2+ hours after eating before going to bed.

For more information on nutrition and hydration, see my blogs ‘Hydrated and Happy’‘Food for thought’ and ‘The digestive balance’.

Until next time...
Beth x






You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886
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Monday, 11 February 2019

Finding love again

With over 200 blogs on D4Dementia now, some of them approaching 7 years old in May this year, I've decided to spend my 2019 year of blogging by re-visiting some of the topics I’ve covered previously, throwing fresh light on why they remain relevant, and updating them with some of my more recent experiences. This month, I want to look at love.

I finished my January 2019 blog with a quote that talked about how a person who is struggling to express themselves, perhaps because of their dementia, is:
“Ultimately looking for understanding, appreciation and love.”
Of course that could be said for all of us regardless of the circumstances surrounding our health, but a diagnosis of dementia brings the importance of love and expressing love into an even sharper focus, as I described in my 2014 blog, ‘Amour’:
“Dementia taught me to tell my dad I loved him every time I saw him. I say dementia taught me because a diagnosis of a terminal disease makes it imperative that you make the most of every moment. There isn't time to be bashful - you will have a long time to regret what you didn't have the courage to say or do.”
But that isn’t to say it’s always easy to express love or feel love when dementia is part of life. Last year I met a lady who very candidly spoke about her relationship with her mother, who is living with dementia, saying that she found it very hard to love her mother now.

Many people might harshly judge this lady for a comment like that, but on further exploration it was clear it was a remark that came from a place of immense love and a longing for that love to be reciprocated. The lady felt bereft because of her perception that her mother didn’t love her, but when we reflected on her time with her mother, it became clear that she was missing very subtle signs of her mother’s love, purely because they weren’t the obvious expressions of it that she’d been used to her whole life.

This lady viewed the changes in her mother only through a negative lens. She spoke about her mother’s repetitive speech, her lack of interest in previous hobbies, how she no longer wanted to eat foods she’d always enjoyed and how she constantly walked, making her daughter feel that she just wanted to get away from her.

But we found a flip side to this. The repetitive speech was an opportunity for the lady to reinforce the information her mother needed, and that could come from a place of love if she realised the trust her mother was placing in her to provide that information in a calm and consistent way.

The lack of enthusiasm for previous hobbies could be interpreted as an opportunity to try new things, finding common interests that they could enjoy together, and likewise with trying new foods. We also talked about walking, and the joy that could be found in walking together, exploring the environment and taking notice of the details around them, something that is known to be very good for improving wellbeing.

Like many people, this daughter saw her mother’s walking through the negative concept of wandering (not a phrase I like or agree with), which is a topic I wrote about in my 2012 blog ‘Going Places’:
“Wandering suggests aimless moving from place to place without any clear objective, but that is not the case in people with dementia. I have written previously about the need to appreciate, understand and connect with a person who has dementia within the world THEY are living in. It may be a world from their childhood or their years as a youthful adult, it may be a happy place or a sad and worrying place. Wherever it is and whatever the circumstances, the person with dementia may well feel compelled to do certain things, and have great purpose and direction in doing them, however fleeting that may be.” 
For this lady’s mother, walking was something she needed and wanted to do, not something to be in any way suppressed as her daughter thought it perhaps should be. Supporting someone you love to do something that they love is in itself an act of love. Not one with big declarations or fancy ribbons attached, but one that is far more meaningful when you consider that many people who are living with dementia and want to do things like walking are prevented, sometimes forcibly, from doing so.

I think, and hope, that I helped this lady to find a different perspective to the one of desolation and isolation that she was feeling. Accepting that dementia sometimes changes our perception of loving and being loved is a tough realisation, but it is one that provides a degree of peace, and sometimes even hope – hope that you can still have those moments of connection with the person you love, however fleeting those moments may be, and feel that surge of emotion that only love can give you.

As I said in my Amour blog:
“During those difficult moments, the sadness, the emptiness, the emotional rollercoaster of being a carer, it's the love you feel that gets you through.”
Until next time...
Beth x






You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886
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Monday, 14 January 2019

Communication - It’s more than just words

With over 200 blogs on D4Dementia now, some of them approaching 7 years old in May this year, I've decided to spend my 2019 year of blogging by re-visiting some of the topics I’ve covered previously, throwing fresh light on why they remain relevant, and updating them with some of my more recent experiences. To begin, I want to look at communication.

In 2013 I wrote a very popular blog entitled, ‘Don’t ignore me.’ It was all about how a person with dementia might express themselves, highlighting that;
“Speech is only one form of communication; assessing body language, the choices being made, positive or negative reactions and different behaviours can often tell us a great deal without a single word being uttered.”
It was a blog I wrote mostly to share how my dad communicated, particularly in the latter years of his dementia, in the hope it might help others to understand that a lack of verbal communication isn’t, as many of us might assume, the end of communication.

Losing the ability to verbally communicate is something I see often in people whose dementia has significantly advanced. Sadly those people are still being far too quickly and easily written off, as I described in my ‘Don’t ignore me’ blog where I wrote about that hideous phrase ‘unresponsive’:
“A popular phrase to describe someone with advanced dementia is ‘unresponsive’. In my view it is a description that says more about the abilities of the person using it than the person with dementia. No one is ever 'unresponsive'. You may have to work a bit harder to find something that creates a reaction, but even someone with very advanced dementia is capable of expressing themselves in their own unique way if they are stimulated to do that, and the person enabling that stimulation then has the ability to interpret the resulting expression.”
You might imagine that in 2019 the phrase ‘unresponsive’ to describe the communication of a person with dementia would be obsolete, but not so. I saw it written in more than one care plan in the latter part of 2018, and promptly sought to change the perceptions of the people who’d written those plans.

On the flip side, also in the latter part of 2018 I saw some truly inspirational communication with a gentleman called Peter*, who is in his 50's and has been speech-impaired for most of his life. Peter's family, rather than finding this difficult describe it as a blessing. Why? Because his siblings say it meant that they grew up learning to communicate in multiple different ways, rather than relying on speech as most of us do.

Peter's family have developed, as a unit, a communication system highly personal to them, that combines elements of sign language, body language, facial expressions, body movements, objects and pictures. They emphasise that rather than just using their mouths, they and Peter use their whole body to communicate. So for example, flexing his toes means that Peter needs to move. In order to observe this if Peter is wearing socks, his family bought him toe socks.

While I was with Peter and his family I also saw something I rarely see in mainstream dementia services – mirroring. This is where those communicating with the person mirror their non-verbal signals, enabling the person to feel that those around them have a real rapport and connection with them and share their emotions and ideas, giving the person a greater sense of engagement and belonging. True mirroring is subconscious, and is very different from imitation, which is a conscious effort to copy a person that can be very disrespectful.

It was fascinating to watch Peter and his siblings communicating, proving that a lack of speech is no barrier to a deep and loving connection that hopefully ensures that Peter feels understood, valued and never, ever ignored. Granted, Peter and his family have had years to adapt and refine how they communicate with each other, and listening to their story it certainly hasn’t been easy, but the message I took away from meeting them was that no matter how difficult the circumstances, if you are creative in your approach, focused on what is possible (rather than dwelling on what isn’t), and prepared to adapt and change, you will find those moments of connection that may have seemed illusive. 

Of course when you’re thinking about supporting a loved one with dementia, or as a professional working in dementia care and support, the greatest difficulty is often that dementia is a bit like shifting sands - as fast as you find a breakthrough, something changes and you need to re-evaluate and try something new. Rapid change isn’t something Peter's family have had to cope with as yet, but we certainly had that with my dad.

So, what does all this mean for someone currently supporting a person, with or without dementia, for whom verbal communication is now limited or non-existent. For me, the best first step is observation. The time you might otherwise spend thinking of what you want to say, saying it and trying, perhaps in vain, to be understood needs instead to be spent observing the person. 

Never starring, just discreet observation, taking in everything about the person, what they are doing with their body (or not doing that is otherwise usual for them) and what they are telling you through those movements, perhaps wanting something or someone, indicating that something is wrong (or right, don’t miss the positive things too) or giving non-verbal clues that something is missing. Think of this like an unfinished sentence - how can you help the person finish what they are trying to communicate? You might need props like objects or pictures to assist you. 

Good observation won't just enhance your communication, it has many other benefits too as I wrote about in my 2015 blog, ‘Harnessing the power of observation’:
“Good observation skills can tell you how a person is feeling, what they want or need and how you can best respond to them. It can also give you clues to their personality, their likes and dislikes, and the ways in which you can seamlessly integrate yourself into their life without being obtrusive, interfering and controlling.”
Even for the best observers, taking in this level of detail undoubtedly takes practice - be prepared for a lot of trial and error, a lot of frustration for you and the person, and going down many blind alleys with what you think is meant but really isn’t at all. But for all the difficulties, it is worth it for those special moments where you do both understand each other. As I said in my ‘Don’t ignore me’ blog:
“It can be easy to ignore an expression that isn’t clearly spoken, but the price paid can be huge in terms of emotional, physical and mental distress to someone who is already vulnerable, often frustrated, and ultimately looking for understanding, appreciation and love.”
(*Name changed to protect identity)

Until next time...
Beth x






You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886
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Monday, 17 December 2018

Resolve to tackle loneliness

“It’ll be lonely this Christmas
Without you to hold
It'll be lonely this Christmas
Lonely and cold.”

So sang English glam rock band Mud (in the style of Elvis Presley) to top the UK singles chart in 1974, selling over 750,000 copies and reaching Christmas number one.

44 years later, and as this song joins the throngs of Christmas music on the airwaves for another year, I’ve found myself wondering if we might ever reduce the estimated 9 million+ people in the UK who are said to be ‘always or often lonely’ to closer to the number of copies this song sold back in 1974. If we could, that would mean 8,250,000 less lonely people.

The 9 million+ statistic came from research by The British Red Cross earlier this year. They described the figure as representing ‘epidemic levels of loneliness and social isolation’, and few could argue with that assessment. It’s a hugely negative reflection on our modern-day society, and ironically comes in an age where we’ve never had so much connectivity through technology and yet so many of us feel more isolated than ever before.

The reasons for loneliness in the UK are many and varied, with commentators sighting everything from social media use to poor work-life cultures. I personally feel that the English 'stiff upper lip' culture also plays a role - not wanting to admit you feel lonely or isolated, fear of being rejected if you do seek help or support or even just reach out to someone you know who may themselves be too caught up in life to respond to you in the way you hope they might, and feeling compelled to hold all of your feelings and worries within you.

Amongst those most vulnerable to isolation and loneliness are older people, those living with long-term health conditions, including dementia, and those who provide care and support for a loved one. The very nature of ageing means you lose friends and family as your peers pass away, and of course living with dementia can pose such significant challenges with social interaction that many people would rather avoid it, particularly if they haven't managed to connect with like-minded individuals through peer support (examples of peer-support groups for people with dementia include DEEP and DAI).

Indeed, such is the risk of isolation and loneliness for people with dementia that the Dementia Action Alliance 'Dementia Statements' (that I wrote about in August 2017) specifically say, "We have the right to continue with day-to-day and family life, without discrimination or unfair cost, to be accepted and included in our communities and not live in isolation or loneliness." 

It’s also worth remembering that social isolation is thought to increase a person’s risk of developing dementia, hence why the importance of social interaction is highlighted as a potential preventative measure. With this in mind, in my training for care providers I talk to social care staff about the dangers of isolation and loneliness amongst the people they support and we discuss ways this can be combatted.

While staff who provide support to people in their own homes are often much more aware of the risks posed by isolation and loneliness, as many of their clients live alone, care home staff often haven’t considered that loneliness might be a significant factor in the lives of the people that they are supporting, simply because they assume that if a person is living in a communal environment they won’t be lonely. Yet quite the opposite is true - some of the loneliest people in the world are those in a room full of other people, and a bedroom can be a very isolating place if you don’t feel able, or cannot through physical or mental health issues, come out of that room to socialise with your peers.

With the festive season seen as a particularly isolating time of year, many charities and organisation are again voicing their concerns about loneliness. Last week Age UK published analysis that said 1.7 million older people in England can go for a month without meeting up with a friend, and that 300,000 over 65s have not had a conversation with family or friends over the same period. They also said that half a million older people across the UK are likely to feel lonely this Christmas, with more than 230,000 older people expected to be on their own for at least one day over the Christmas period (from Christmas Eve to New Year’s Day).

After Christmas, I predict that there will be more reports of helplines receiving record numbers of calls over the festive period. Last Christmas, The Silver Line – the only free, 24-hour, national helpline for lonely and isolated older people open all year round – reported that Christmas 2017 was their busiest ever, with over 14000 calls made to their helpline, around 1000 more than during Christmas 2016. Their greatest spike in calls was on New Year’s Day, with 1773 callers – up 14% on January 1st 2017. 

So how is loneliness being tackled? The response ranges from the Campaign to End Loneliness to the legacy work in memory of Jo Cox MP, alongside the UK government appointing the world’s first Minister for Loneliness (Tracey Crouch, who later resigned her position over an unrelated matter), and the publication of England’s first Loneliness Strategy.

But despite all of this, loneliness remains a huge issue. In the run up to Christmas 2015, I wrote for the UK Huffington Post about a campaign Friends of the Elderly were running about loneliness, and now here we are in 2018 and I have even more campaigns I could write about, which suggests we aren’t really making significant progress.

Why? Because to tackle loneliness we all have to do our bit. High profile initiatives, whilst very welcome and often packing a significant punch, can’t on their own make any individual feel less lonely, or persuade each of us to do something to help combat loneliness amongst our family members, friends, neighbours and acquaintances.

That ‘something’ doesn't have to be a huge action, it can be really small. At this time of year, just sending a Christmas card to someone you know says “I’m thinking of you.” If that person is older, not local to you, not on email and you don’t have an up-to-date phone number for them, a card is a simple way to reach out. Or for people who don’t want to write Christmas cards, donate to one of the charities that help to support people who are at risk of isolation and loneliness.

Of course there is no simple fix to the UK’s loneliness problem - a cuppa with your neighbour or having a festive clear-out and donating your unwanted items to a charity that supports people who are isolated and lonely won’t banish loneliness for every isolated person. But as you think of your New Year’s resolutions, bear in mind that a resolution to do your bit to tackle the UK’s loneliness epidemic is something that is achievable for all of us and might just make someone’s day (as well as yours).

Thank you for all your support in 2018. Until 2019...
Beth x







You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886
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Monday, 19 November 2018

Bringing the generations together

There have been few documentaries I’ve enjoyed as much as Channel 4’s ‘Old People’s Home for 4 Year Olds’. For me it ticked every box - it featured some amazing older people (the oldest was 102) and pre-school children (the youngest was 3), it looked at ageing, social care, healthcare, education and child development, it demonstrated innovation combined with scientific rigour, and best of all, it featured some really positive outcomes for the older people and the children involved.

It’s no surprised I loved the programme given the 9 years my dad spent in care homes, the work I do now with older people and those who provide care and support for them, and as a mum to a preschooler, my current immersion in the world of early years education. 

The seed for my enthusiasm for intergenerational work was sown watching my dad light up whenever children visited other residents in his care home. Sadly though, the time many of these children spent in the home was brief and their visits sporadic, so my dad never really had the chance to fully benefit from their presence, unlike the 10 older people featured in Old People’s Home for 4 Year Olds.

In our household, this documentary was particularly timely - in the weeks it aired we were settling our daughter into pre-school. It hasn’t been the easiest transition for her, but I am absolutely certain given her relationship with my mum (who is 79), that had she had the option to go into an early-years educational establishment that meant she shared her pre-school time with older people she would have settled a lot quicker.

The synergies for me don’t end there either. In an attempt to help our daughter settle into pre-school life I made her a memory book, which I’m gradually filling up with photos of all the adventures that we’ve had this year. A memory book for an (almost) 3-year-old - They are for older people (and people living with dementia) right? Wrong! They are amazing at every age and stage of life, and the book has been phenomenal for our daughter. It's given her pages of lovely familiar photos to comfort her and prompt her to talk about her adventures, and it's enabled her teachers to get to know her so much quicker and easier.

In essence, we are actually informally running our own mini intergenerational experiment in our house. My mum lives with us, and although I don't have scientists or experts measuring the effects of this for our daughter and my mum, I can informally categorically say that our daughter’s communication, reading, interactions and skills-set have benefitted so much from extensive time with her Granny, and for my mum, our daughter has physically and mentally challenged her, kept her going and brought so much joy, excitement and unpredictability into her life.

If my mum was living alone she would have had none of this, and would have been much more isolated and potentially lonely, as many of her peers sadly are. Meanwhile for our daughter, with the best will in the world, she would never have had as many books read to her or enjoyed so many other little learning experiences without Granny around every day. 

So, what do we learn from Old People’s Home for 4 Year Olds and my own domestic life? For me it’s that keeping generations in silos is so outdated. I’m not saying that arrangements like those shown on Old People’s Home for 4 Year Olds would work for every older person or indeed every preschooler. Some older people wouldn't want that level of noise, interaction and energy around them. Equally, some preschoolers may prefer to only be with their peers or adults of their parent’s age.

But there needs to be much more choice for everyone who would benefit. Older people who would like to interact with preschoolers could find a new purpose in life, teaching and supporting children to learn, and keeping themselves physically and mentally active into the bargain. Meanwhile preschoolers, who may have busy working parents and live long distances from their own grandparents, could benefit from the patience and time less hurried older people may be able to provide. And that, of course, is to say nothing of the exchange of wisdom that would be happening. 

For those with a less practical, romantic vision who are only interested in hard facts, muse on this. Old People’s Home for 4 Year Olds showed significant physical and mental improvements in the older people over the 3-months of this experiment, all of which could potentially cut the costs associated with their health and care needs. Examples included:
  • 102-year-old Sylvia going from being classed as frail at the beginning of the experiment to being no longer classed as frail at the end of the 3-months. Sylvia's cognitive health tests also improved by +3 points.
  • 97-year-old Victor improved his depression score by +3.
  • 81-year-old Lavinia went from taking 495 steps per day to 1750 later in the experiment, and this despite a fall during the 3-months.
And overall amongst the older participants:
  • 5/10 improved their balance.
  • 9/10 improved their grip strength (an indicator of overall health).
  • Almost half of the volunteers reduced their risk of falling.

The children also showed improvements, including the youngest child, Zach, improving his personal and social interactions and use of language, and Mason improving his sense of what it means to be an older person and developing his ability to nurture and be empathetic. Indeed, such is the impact of this experiment that The ExtraCare Charitable Trust, who run Lark Hill Retirement Village where Old People’s Home for 4 Year Olds was filmed, have committed to a lasting legacy for the project that will see a rolling six week intergenerational activity programme for Lark Hill residents and children from its neighbouring nurseries.

I can see so many positives in intergenerational approaches, and in the 6+ years I’ve done the work I do now I don’t think anything has excited me as much as the potential for bringing the older and younger generations together. The possibilities seem almost endless to my eager brain which is desperate to see new initiatives for the youngest and oldest in our society.

I feel we have become very stale, very staid, in our approaches to supporting people at the polar opposites of the age spectrum and it saddens me. For older people, they don’t necessarily have years to wait to get the care and support that they need, to alleviate their loneliness, to give them purpose and a reason to live the best life that they can. And for our youngest citizens, their brains are alive with possibility and opportunity, just waiting for us to ignite their imagination and feed them with the facts about anything and everything that makes up the world we live in.

For me there is no time to waste. No ifs, no buts. I’m proud that in our own little way through our domestic life that we are doing this as a family, but I would love to hear from any individuals or organisations who want to do intergenerational work like that shown on Old People’s Home for 4 Year Olds at scale. For our older and younger citizens, let’s make this happen!

Until next time...
Beth x






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