Wendy Mitchell met her new neighbours when she mistook their home for hers.

It was understandable — similar footpaths lead up to houses that look the same.

But for Wendy Mitchell, it was just one more reminder that living with dementia was going to need a different approach.

"I like to look at dementia as a challenge in itself," the 62-year-old told 7.30.

"I like to outmanoeuvre dementia whenever I can.

"I see it as a bit of a game. That makes it better to cope with."

So the former health professional stuck a colourful tile of a forget me not flower to the outside of her door to ensure she didn't barge in on the neighbours again.

Somebody That I Used To Know

Wendy Mitchell wrote a book about her experience called Somebody I Used To Know ( Supplied )

Wendy is in a unique situation.

She was diagnosed with Alzheimers when she was 58 but the progress of the disease has been slow enough to allow her to write a best-selling memoir about the experience.

Somebody I Used to Know offers dementia patients a glimpse of how they can continue to live well with a cruel disease that will eventually rob them of their minds.

The book was ghostwritten by journalist Anna Wharton, who used Wendy's online diary blog, Which Me Am I Today, that she had been keeping since early on in her diagnosis.

She goes into detail about the trauma of having to leave her job before she felt ready.

"When I was first diagnosed I was very open but the first question my manager asked was, how long have you got?" she said.

"So I knew then that things weren't going to go quite as I had planned."

'A bummer of a disease'

To help her remember what is in the cupboards, Wendy Mitchell photographs the contents and sticks it on the door ( ABC News )

Wendy Mitchell has a kind, warm face and an infectious laugh.

And despite getting what she calls a "bummer of a disease" she seems to find plenty to laugh about.

"There's so much sadness about being diagnosed with dementia that if you dwelled on the sadness all the time then you'd simply end up depressed," she said.

"So I always try to find something humorous about dementia to keep me going."

Her home, where she lives alone, is a tribute to her tenacity to "beat" dementia.

If something confuses her she works out a way to fix it.

She couldn't remember what was in her kitchen cupboards when she first moved in and the white cupboards seemed to blend into the walls.

So she took photos of the contents and stuck them on the outside.

Cups, glasses, plates.

Upstairs in her bedroom she did the same for her wardrobes after thinking she hadn't unpacked her clothes after the move.

The clothes were there but hidden by cupboard doors.

Out of sight, out of mind.

And sometimes Wendy does feel like she is losing her mind.

Like the time she looked into the backyard and thought someone had stolen her garden shed.

She looked and looked and it was clear to her that it wasn't there.

But it had been there the night before.

"The biggest thing to learn is not to panic because that can make things 10 times worse," she said.

Wendy never knows when the "fog" of dementia is going to descend but she waits 30 minutes and it often lifts.

She looked out the window into her backyard a little later and the shed was back.

Plan B

Wendy Mitchell's The Week Ahead note. ( ABC News )

Despite stopping work she is now busier than she has ever been — giving talks, finishing the book, media interviews and trying to impart knowledge to the health profession about how to better treat patients.

But it isn't easy.

An invitation to an event in London, a three-hour train ride south of her home near Hull, involves intensive planning.

"I have to work out times of the train and sometimes I can do that and then sometimes I can't, so I sometimes need help," she said.

"And then I look at my dear friend Google and see where I'm going and print out a walking map to get there and not forgetting to print a walking map back.

"And all this goes into my folder with a plan B in case something goes wrong.

"All that has to be ready before the day because on the day I can't do anything like that.

"I have to focus simply on getting ready."

Wendy uses her iPad constantly, taking photos of streets and buildings to remember where she has walked and to find her way back.

Still Wendy

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She found it difficult to watch the Oscar-winning film Still Alice starring Julianne Moore because it was like watching what her life was going to be like.

In the film, the character played by Moore is a highly respected university academic who is on a routine run when she gets confused and doesn't know where she is.

She was invited to see the movie and met the Hollywood actress.

"How did I do?" Julianne Moore asked her.

"You got it right," Wendy told her.

The fog descending over the eyes was exactly what she felt.

Wendy doesn't know how long she'll live but she intends on donating her brain to science.

And she wants employers to understand that dementia is not "the end".

"They forget that there's a beginning and a middle and there's so much living to do and so much continuing of life to do," she said.

"We all have talents before the diagnosis of dementia and we don't suddenly lose those talents overnight."

Her daughters Gemma and Sarah are proud of their mum but it is a pride tinged with sadness.

"There are lots of fears about the future because dementia is so unpredictable," Sarah said.

"We don't know how this is going to progress.

"But I think the legacy she'll leave behind, with what she's done already, is going to make huge changes to the way people with dementia are treated."