From Personal Loss to Public Action

In the immediate aftermath of loss, action is rarely clear. Grief does not arrive neatly packaged with purpose. Yet over time, it became impossible to ignore that Elizabeth’s experience reflected a much wider problem.

The more I examined her hospital journey, the clearer it became that the failures were not isolated errors. They were systemic gaps, gaps that exist across NHS hospitals every day.

People living with dementia are frequently admitted for falls, infections, surgery, or acute illness. Once inside the hospital environment, they face risks that others do not: disorientation, delirium, loss of routine, communication breakdown, and unmet basic needs. Without dementia-aware systems, these risks compound rapidly.

What struck me most was not the absence of guidance, it was the absence of accountability.

National guidance exists. Frameworks exist. Strategies exist. Yet implementation varies dramatically between hospitals, and there is little to ensure consistency. Good care often depends on where you live, who is on shift, or whether a particular ward happens to prioritise dementia.

That is not acceptable.

Elizabeth’s Wish began to take shape as a policy proposal precisely because of this gap. Not a radical overhaul. Not an unrealistic demand. But a clear, structured framework that ensures dementia care is treated as a patient safety priority, not an optional extra.

The aim became simple: Make dementia-safe hospital care the standard, not the exception.

This shift from personal grief to public action was not easy. It required revisiting painful details and translating emotion into something constructive. But the alternative, silence, felt far worse.

Elizabeth’s story deserves more than remembrance. It deserves change.