That there is a life after a diagnosis of dementia. I’ve tried my best to instil this in others. What’s currently bugging you? To have no autonomy, no independence, to be totally reliant on others for when and where and how I do things, is not the life today’s Wendy wants for future Wendy.’ I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid to talk about death,” she says, “but dementia has definitely brought it much more to the forefront of my mind. I’m amazed that so little value is placed on the one thing that is 100 per cent certain to happen to all of us. We’ll make a birth plan, but would never dream about planning for our death. Why? Why would you put the stress on those you leave behind of thinking: ‘What would mum want?’ The same stigma we associate with dementia, we attach to death.”

This beautiful book will give hope and courage to many people. An uplifting and courageous read’ KATHRYN MANNIX The sky’s the limit: Wendy Mitchell walking the 1,000ft highwire Infinity Bridge in Cumbria – ‘The hardest thing I’ve ever done.’ I had to take time reading this one Wendy, it’s a challenging time at the moment and there was much to think about and digest along the way. Thank you for being such an inspiration to so many, for not being defined by your diagnosis but finding a way beyond it and giving support to so many others. You are so right Like so many things in Mitchell’s life, gardening – a pastime she’s always taken great pride in – has shape-shifted into a more complex endeavour since her diagnosis, in July 2014, of young-onset vascular dementia and Alzheimer’s disease: a degeneration of the brain that currently affects more than 70,000 people in the UK. She was 58 years old. Very compelling . . . A really thoughtful and thorough exploration of end-of-life concerns - shared, I know, by many people with dementia diagnoses and their families. Strong and clear about your own values, you recognise and support others' choices too. -- Professor Celia Kizinger

We talk so often about prolonging life, but we are actually prolonging death by not discussing the suffering part of it.’

This is a difficult topic. Most of us don’t want to be reminded of our mortality. I find Wendy inspirational. I have read each of her books and I follow her blog https://whichmeamitoday.wordpress.com/According to a 2021 report, Public Attitudes to Death and Dying in the UK, 51 per cent of people don’t think we talk enough about death and dying as a society. While 70 per cent feel notionally comfortable enough to do so, only 14 per cent actually have. Many of us still haven’t made a will. There are now initiatives, like so-called death cafés, along with end of life doulas, “to help people make the most of their finite lives”. This is all indicative of progress, Mitchell agrees, but it’s still too slow, and not enough. “To properly prepare for your death,” she argues, “really is the greatest gift you can give your children”. What I want this book to do is open up everyone’s minds on the importance of talking,” Mitchell explains as we discuss the many discourses in her book, each one centring on death, dying and living well – however long you might have left. In a country where two-thirds of UK adults haven’t written a will, Mitchell is intent on probing all angles of death: how we can prepare for it, how we should talk about it with our loved ones and why making our own choices – about how and when we die – should be a right, not a crime. Rather than make her feel vulnerable, these conversations have only strengthened her. “It could even be as simple as: cremation or burial? I’ve realised since writing, many people don’t even know that about the closest person to them, because they’re uncomfortable having that conversation.”

It doesn’t take a poet laureate to realise that these mismatched stripes of grass are a powerful metaphor in Mitchell’s increasingly foggy world. “If you accept that the lines won’t be straight then it relaxes the effort of doing things,” she says. “It doesn’t matter any more. It doesn’t matter if they’re wiggly.” Perhaps this has been Mitchell’s biggest mission since she was diagnosed nine years ago: to show us all what she – and the more than 850,000 people who also have dementia in the UK – can do in spite of the odds.Before Mitchell was diagnosed, she was afraid of so much. “Now, when I lie in the dark, there isn’t any worry whatsoever. And that’s because I think, ‘Crikey, if I can face dementia, why should I worry about anything else?’” If the last nine years have taught her anything, it’s the importance of time and how not to take it for granted. “The only certainty we have in life is this moment. No one knows what’s round the corner. People always say, when I retire I’ll do this, or next year I’ll do that. And I say to them, ‘Why not now?’ Because, if it’s that important, don’t wait for the future, because it might not come.” on the topic of assisted dying in the UK, those fighting to make it legal and those vehemently opposed to its practice, Cancer would have afforded her the opportunity to reject treatment, embrace palliative care and slip away before dementia robbed her of herself. But Mitchell eschews self-pity in favour of investigating what her own end might look like, were she able to choose it. What follows is a veritable vade mecum that I, for one, will keep and re-read in the years to come. I’d be fibbing if I claimed to grasp the difference between an advance directive, a future care plan and a recommended summary plan for emergency care and treatment, otherwise known as a ReSPECT form. But there’s comfort to be had in now knowing what I don’t know – and should get to grips with before it’s too late. two Sunday Times bestselling books, went skydiving for the first time and supports multiple dementia advocacy groups in That assisted dying isn’t law in this country, denying us a choice for when and how we die. What single thing would make your life better?

Wendy Mitchell doesn’t fear anything anymore. After her diagnosis of young-onset dementia in 2014, all of Wendy’s old If anything, Mitchell has turned into a bit of a daredevil as her condition has intensified. Last year, she went wing walking. A month ago, she walked the Infinity Bridge, a highwire suspended 1,000ft above sea level, strung across the Honister Slate Mine in Cumbria. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she says proudly and with a smile. Later this year, she’s set to abseil down London’s 225m-tall “Cheesegrater” Leadenhall Building. Mitchell remembers vividly the day she sat her own daughters down to talk about it. “I made tea, and sweetened the occasion with cake,” she says, smiling. “It was awkward at first, but also lovely.” They talked about many things, primarily the lasting power of attorney, which means that Mitchell would have a say on how she died. In the past, she has been a vocal advocate of assisted dying. “In this country, we are so far behind so many others in that regard. Not just Switzerland, but Canada, France… I don’t understand why we can’t have a sensible discussion about it.” This beautiful book will give hope and courage to many people. An uplifting and courageous read' KATHRYN MANNIXAnyone who reads Mitchell's work can only admire her passion, her energy and her extraordinary courage' SUNDAY TIMES That might sound daunting and morbid, but the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. “To have no autonomy, no independence, to be totally reliant on others for when and how I do things, is not the life today’s Wendy wants for future Wendy,” Mitchell says firmly. She adds that she doesn’t want sympathy: fair enough. But I hope, instead, she will accept the gratitude of everyone who reads this urgent, humane manifesto on how to care for and about those edging towards the finality of death. Since she was diagnosed with dementia in 2014, Wendy Mitchell has written three books. She has also been skydiving, been wing walking and walked the Infinity Bridge. Living with dementia, Wendy doesn’t fear much anymore. This is Wendy’s third book. In the first two, she wrote of living with dementia while in this book, while she still can, Wendy writes of dying with dementia. Wendy raises some difficult questions in this book and reminds us that we are all going to die. How much agency do we want? Especially in cases where living with a progressive terminal illness?