When dementia changed our lives before we even knew it had a name

Rob was diagnosed with younger onset dementia in October 2025.

For our family, however, the journey began many years earlier.

This is not only the story of Rob’s diagnosis. It is the story of two people who have supported one another through brain injury, illness, recovery and enormous change.

It is also the reason we created Nurture Better Futures.

Before Rob needed us, he carried all of us

Our family’s experience with brain injury and cognitive change began long before Rob’s diagnosis.

In 2012, I suffered a serious head injury when a 130-kilogram ram smashed my head into a steel pole in the shearing shed.

The injury changed every part of my life.

I experienced uncontrolled seizures every day. I could not drive or cook safely. My memory and cognitive function were severely affected, and I often needed help dressing and washing.

For several years, I was completely dependent on Rob and our boys for even the most basic parts of daily life.

At the same time, Rob was carrying an extraordinary burden.

He was caring for me.

He was raising our three young sons.

He was managing our 2,500-acre sheep and cropping property.

And he was trying to support his father, who was living with dementia.

He managed the farm, the children, my appointments, my seizures and the endless practical demands of everyday life. He helped me remember what I could not remember and supported me through years of uncertainty, frustration and loss of independence.

He did everything he could to help me recover.

Eventually, I was accepted into an international research trial investigating laser-based infrared therapy applied to the brain.

For me, that therapy became a major turning point.

It felt like the game changer that enabled the other therapies and rehabilitation strategies to begin working more effectively. Gradually, I regained my independence, rebuilt my confidence and was eventually able to return to work.

That experience profoundly shaped my interest in brain health, infrared therapy and the possibility that the brain can respond to the right combination of rehabilitation, persistence and support.

But while I was slowly recovering, Rob was under relentless pressure.

Caring for his father was particularly difficult. His father wanted to continue contributing on the farm, but as his dementia progressed, his actions often created significantly more work, confusion and stress for Rob rather than reducing the workload.

Rob was trying to preserve his father’s dignity while keeping the farm operating safely, raising three boys and caring for a wife who could not manage basic daily activities alone.

He rarely complained.

He simply kept going.

Looking back, we believe those years of extreme responsibility, stress and exhaustion took a significant toll on Rob’s mental and physical health.

We cannot say that stress caused his dementia. Dementia is complex and rarely has one simple cause.

What we do know is that Rob spent years putting everyone else first while carrying far more than any one person should reasonably have been expected to manage.

The man who later needed our support had once been the person holding our entire family together.

In 2021, I began noticing changes in Rob

Rob had always been intelligent, practical, respectful and incredibly adaptable.

That was why the changes were so difficult to understand.

His long-term memory, which had once been excellent, seemed to be disappearing. His ability to regulate his emotions was also changing.

One moment made the change impossible to ignore.

We were at a party, and I was telling the story of a family holiday to Queensland that we had won while I was pregnant with our son, Jono.

Without warning, Rob angrily interrupted me.

“Why are you lying? We have never been to Queensland!”

I was stunned.

We had been to Queensland. It was a real and treasured family memory.

What hurt most was not simply that Rob had forgotten.

It was that he genuinely believed I was lying to him.

After that, I began noticing more and more changes.

Disagreements increased. Rob often responded as though I was gaslighting him or deliberately twisting the truth.

He seemed to hear completely different statements from the words I had actually spoken.

I found myself thinking:

“It is like we are speaking two different languages.”

I might say:

“Can you grab my shirt off the table?”

Yet Rob would somehow hear:

“Get your shirt off the table!”

Those were not the words I had spoken.

But to Rob, the harsh version felt completely real.

He often interpreted ordinary comments in the nastiest possible way, as though I were criticising, rejecting or attacking him.

Neither of us understood why it was happening.

Rob felt hurt and attacked by the woman who was supposed to love him.

I was left bewildered, confused and heartbroken.

Noise and socialising became overwhelming

Rob also began struggling to cope with noise.

At family gatherings and social events, he would shut down or withdraw from conversations.

He blamed his hearing aids.

He blamed his tinnitus.

He said the noise was driving him crazy.

His hearing aids were high quality, professionally adjusted and regularly checked, yet he still struggled to follow conversations.

Eventually, Rob stopped wanting to go out.

He avoided gatherings.

He withdrew from friends and family.

He stopped enjoying restaurants and social occasions that he had once participated in without difficulty.

Dinner at home became unpredictable.

Some evenings were wonderful. Rob would be interactive, join in our daily gratitude conversation and share stories about his day.

On other evenings, he would abruptly stand up, take his dinner outside and sit alone in the cold.

We had no idea why he was suddenly so angry.

I thought he was upset with us.

He thought we were being cruel to him.

Work began to change too

The changes became increasingly obvious at work.

Rob had spent much of his life farming.

Anyone who works in agriculture knows that plans change constantly.

Weather changes.

Machinery breaks.

Animals escape.

Deliveries are delayed.

Unexpected problems need to be solved every day.

Rob had always been excellent at managing change and interruptions. He was practical, flexible and highly capable of shifting from one task to another.

Suddenly, his brain no longer seemed able to change gears.

He became intensely fixated on making sure all the stock in the shop was perfectly aligned.

If someone disturbed the shelves, he became unreasonably upset.

Changes to his routine became overwhelming.

If his boss changed the morning and afternoon plans, Rob could swing from anger to frustration and misery.

Something as simple as being asked to make truck deliveries before sorting the shop stock, rather than afterwards, could make the whole day feel impossible.

It was not laziness.

It was not a lack of commitment.

His brain seemed unable to reorganise the steps.

Eventually, Rob began dreading going to work.

Then he simply could not face the ordeal anymore.

I knew something was seriously wrong

Deep down, I knew this was not just stress or depression.

Rob had a loving family.

He had supportive colleagues.

He had a secure job.

He had always been flexible, intelligent and highly capable.

He used to be the person who could fix almost anything.

Now, instead of trying to repair something himself, he would say:

“Let’s just pay someone.”

That was not the Rob I had known for decades.

I suspected dementia as early as 2021.

But the idea was so frightening that I could not bring myself to research dementia itself.

Instead, I became intensely focused on brain health.

I researched nutrition, supplements, lifestyle strategies and therapies that might support the brain.

I encouraged Rob to reduce his heavy alcohol use.

I purchased brain-health supplements.

I pushed him to begin regular infrared therapy that covered both his body and his brain.

We believe those early actions may have helped support Rob’s health and function, although we cannot know how much any individual strategy influenced the progression of his condition.

The diagnosis

In October 2025, Rob was diagnosed with younger onset dementia.

The diagnosis was devastating.

It was also validating.

For years, we had known something was wrong but had not understood what was happening.

After the diagnosis, our specialist encouraged us to visit the Dementia Australia website and learn more.

For the first time, I began properly researching dementia.

I discovered that difficulties processing language and communication can be an early warning sign in some forms of younger onset dementia.

Suddenly, years of confusion began to make sense.

Rob did not simply have a hearing problem.

His expensive, carefully tuned hearing aids were working.

The problem was that his brain was sometimes struggling to correctly process and interpret the language he was hearing, particularly when he was tired, stressed, sick or overwhelmed.

Rob’s MRI had also shown changes involving his temporal lobe, an area associated with language, memory and auditory processing.

That information helped us understand why spoken communication had become so difficult.

“I thought you were speaking Martian”

When I explained the language-processing difficulties to Rob, it was an enormous relief.

He finally shared what family dinners had felt like from his perspective.

“I honestly thought you were all speaking in Martian or whispering to exclude me at dinner, just to be nasty to me.”

My heart broke.

I immediately reassured him.

“Rob, that was never happening. We would never whisper about you or deliberately exclude you. We love you, and we would never be that cruel to anyone.”

For years, Rob had genuinely believed his family were being nasty to him.

Imagine sitting at the dinner table believing the people you love are whispering, speaking in a language you cannot understand or deliberately trying to exclude you.

No wonder he was angry.

No wonder he felt hurt.

No wonder he walked outside with his dinner.

We came to understand that when Rob was tired or overwhelmed, his brain could misinterpret what was being said.

Because he was often in a heightened state of stress, the meaning his brain assigned to the conversation was frequently negative.

He felt distressed but could not identify why, so the people closest to him could appear to be the source of the threat.

Understanding this took away an enormous amount of hurt and stress for both of us.

Rob realised his family had not turned against him.

I realised he was not deliberately twisting my words.

His brain was struggling to correctly interpret the information it was receiving.

Learning to check rather than react

This knowledge has changed the way we communicate.

Rob can now often question the information he is perceiving rather than immediately responding with hurt or anger.

He might ask:

“Is that what you actually meant?”

Or:

“Can you say that another way?”

That simple pause has prevented many misunderstandings.

As a family, we also try to:

• Reduce background noise.
• Get Rob’s attention before speaking.
• Use clear and direct language.
• Give one instruction or step at a time.
• Allow extra time for him to process.
• Check what he heard rather than assuming he understood.
• Avoid continuing difficult conversations when he is exhausted or overwhelmed.

Understanding what Rob’s brain may be experiencing has helped us respond with compassion rather than frustration.

Choosing hope after diagnosis

After the initial shock of the diagnosis, we made a decision.

We were not going to spend all our energy asking:

“Why us?”

Instead, we asked:

“What can we do today to give Rob’s brain the very best chance of functioning well?”

That question became the foundation of our brain-health plan.

Building Rob’s brain-health support plan

After the diagnosis, we visited a qualified naturopath.

Rob completed hair and urine analyses, and we began addressing identified nutritional deficiencies and possible toxin exposures under professional guidance.

He started a personalised supplement and detoxification program recommended by his naturopath and specialist to support his overall health and brain function.

Rob’s specialist also recommended:

• Approximately 20 minutes of exercise each day.
• Cognitive-training apps and brain exercises on his phone.
• Staying mentally, physically and socially engaged.
• Addressing sleep and breathing difficulties.
• Considering other therapies, including transcranial magnetic stimulation, or TMS.

Rob has not undertaken TMS, but it remains one of the options that was suggested for future consideration.

Rob also underwent sleep testing and was found to be borderline for needing CPAP therapy. Because quality sleep and oxygenation are important for overall health, he began using a CPAP machine.

Rob committed completely

Six months before receiving his diagnosis, Rob had already stopped drinking alcohol.

After the diagnosis, he committed to remaining alcohol-free.

He did everything he had been advised to do to support his brain and general health.

His routine included:

• Remaining alcohol-free.
• Following a whole-food, lower-carbohydrate style diet.
• Taking the supplements recommended by his specialist and naturopath.
• Following a professionally guided detoxification plan.
• Completing cognitive app games each morning.
• Using his CPAP machine.
• Having regular infrared therapy.
• Undertaking hyperbaric oxygen therapy five days each week.
• Exercising when his energy and motivation allowed.
• Gradually reintroducing mental and social activity.

Rob approached the plan with enormous determination.

If something had the potential to support his brain and health, he was prepared to make the effort.

Discovering hyperbaric oxygen therapy

After the diagnosis, I began researching dementia and supportive therapies more deeply.

During that research, I found emerging studies investigating hyperbaric oxygen therapy, or HBOT, in relation to brain function and symptoms associated with some neurological conditions.

I had already been interested in HBOT for some time.

After reviewing the available information and considering our options, we decided to invest in a hyperbaric chamber.

HBOT became one part of a much broader health plan that also included alcohol cessation, nutrition, supplements, infrared therapy, cognitive training, sleep support, CPAP and exercise.

We cannot say which individual strategy produced which result.

Our observations reflect Rob’s personal experience and should not be interpreted as proof that the same approach will work for every person living with dementia.

The changes we observed after three months

After approximately three months of consistently following his brain-health plan, we began noticing meaningful changes.

Rob’s:

• Resilience improved.
• Headaches reduced.
• Fatigue reduced.
• Sleep improved.
• Mood improved significantly.
• Energy began returning.
• Motivation slowly improved.

For the first time in a long time, he began having enough energy and motivation to exercise on some days.

These changes did not happen overnight.

They were gradual.

But to us, they were significant.

Six months later

After approximately six months, we noticed further changes.

Rob began coping better with background noise.

He could follow and contribute to conversations more easily, even when other people were talking nearby.

He started enjoying small amounts of socialising again.

For the first time in many years, he began going out for dinner and participating in conversations rather than withdrawing or shutting down.

Those moments meant more to us than we can easily explain.

They gave us hope.

They showed us that, even with a serious diagnosis, supporting the whole person could still improve daily life, connection and quality of life.

Life today

Younger onset dementia remains part of our lives.

Rob still has trouble processing multiple steps.

Beginning a task can be difficult because the starting point is sometimes hard for his brain to identify.

He can experience significant motivation difficulties, particularly when a task feels complicated or overwhelming.

He also continues to have more difficulty processing language when he is tired, stressed or unwell.

However, his short-term memory is often very good.

This surprises many people because it does not match the stereotype they have of dementia.

Rob’s challenges are often more noticeable in:

• Language processing.
• Mental flexibility.
• Task initiation.
• Sequencing steps.
• Coping with noise.
• Emotional regulation.
• Switching between activities.
• Maintaining energy and motivation.

His diagnosis does not mean every part of his brain has stopped working.

He remains Rob.

He is still intelligent.

He is still funny.

He is still deeply loved.

He is still a husband, father, friend and valued member of our community.

What our journey has taught us

Our experience has taught us to look beyond behaviour.

When someone becomes angry, rigid, withdrawn or difficult to understand, it is worth asking:

“What might their brain be experiencing?”

Behaviour is often communication.

Anger may be fear.

Withdrawal may be overwhelm.

Refusal may be confusion.

A lack of motivation may be difficulty identifying the first step.

What appears to be a hearing problem may be a language-processing problem.

What feels like rejection may be a brain trying to make sense of information it can no longer process reliably.

Understanding does not remove every challenge.

But it can remove blame.

It can reduce conflict.

It can restore connection.

And sometimes, understanding changes everything.

Why we are sharing our story

We are sharing our story because we do not want other families to spend years feeling confused, blamed or alone.

If our experience helps one person recognise the signs earlier, it is worth sharing.

If it helps one husband understand his wife, one wife understand her husband, or one child better understand a parent, then the difficult conversations we have lived through may help create something positive.

Nurture Better Futures was created to improve awareness of brain health and younger onset dementia, encourage earlier recognition and help people feel empowered to take practical steps to support their health and quality of life.

We cannot always change a diagnosis.

But we can support the person living with it.

We can improve understanding.

We can reduce fear.

We can nurture connection.

And we can work together to create better futures.

Healthy Brains. Wiser Communities. Better Futures.

This page shares our family’s lived experience. It is not medical advice, and individual responses to lifestyle strategies, supplements and therapies vary. People living with cognitive changes or dementia should discuss treatment and health decisions with appropriately qualified healthcare professionals.