Dutch care home gives dementia sufferers illusion of normal life

Jo Verhoeff twinkles; there's no other word for it. Welcome, she says. It's nice here, you'll like it. The people are friendly and there's so much to do: shopping, cooking, bingo and the classical music club. It's a nice place to visit.

Jo comes quite often when she's not at work. She's a secretary in an office, you see, in Amsterdam. She lives with her parents in Diemen, not very far from the city.

Except ... wait. She has a husband, hasn't she? And two children, still small. Darlings, both of them. How can that all work? Especially since, now she comes to think of it, she actually sleeps here, sometimes. Doesn't she?

But never mind. "You really must come and meet my family. All of them," says Jo, pushing these irreconcilable realities firmly to one side. "They would love it, I'm sure. If you like, one day next week you can come to my house and have coffee."

I would like that very much, I say. But it's not going to happen, of course. Jo Verhoeff is 86. Her husband died a decade ago and her parents passed away many years earlier. The kids are getting on a bit themselves now. Jo is confused. Doctors have diagnosed her as suffering from severe dementia, and she lives at Hogewey. But like most of the residents at this Dutch care home, she seems serene. In fact, she seems happy.

Dementia is now acknowledged to be one of the most pressing problems facing health and social care systems. A report published by the World Health Organisation this year predicted that a continually ageing population in the developed world would mean the number of people with the condition was likely to double, to more than 65 million, by 2030, and treble 20 years later.