I WALKED into a dark room, lights began to spin round and muffled noises were blasting through a headset.

My heart rate was rising, I couldn’t see and I was frozen to the spot in fear of what was coming next.

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It was terrifying. Thankfully for me I was just going through a virtual dementia tour supervised by leader and trainer Tony Brice.

As I started my experience in a trailer in the carpark of Birch Hall Care Centre in Darwen my breathing changed dramatically as I realised I had no idea what was going on.

I began to stoop and realised immediately I was getting tired and frustrated.

I spent around eight minutes immersing myself in the world of someone living with dementia and even in that short space of time, it was evident my mental and physical capabilities were seriously impaired.

Before going into the virtual dementia tour, I was given goggles that would cut off my peripheral vision, insoles for my shoes which gave me a similar sensation to pins and needles, gloves to disturb by sense of touch and a headset.

As I was given blunt instructions telling me to complete five tasks while not removing any of my equipment, I knew I was in for uncomfortable ride.

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But at least I knew it was not my reality. For a person to experience what I was about to out of the blue must be extremely harrowing.

As a siren sounded out of nowhere it near-on deafened me and caused me to cry out.

I tried to get my breathing under control as my brain began to identify the objects such as bed, a chair and a washing basket when Tony suddenly touched me on the arm and gave me what I believed to be my first task.

“Find something useful to do”, he said. It sounded like my parents or a teacher telling me off when I was being lazy. I felt like a child.

My sorry attempt at finding something to do was arranging cushions on a chair but as I sat down a spoon frightened the life out of me when it touched my lips, giving me a notion of being fed by a carer.

I was then told to ‘find the black glasses’, an impossible task when I couldn’t make out any colours or shapes in the room.

Every time I picked something up it was being rudely whipped out of my hands. It was frustrating, like every time I chose the wrong thing I was being told I had failed.

I found what I thought were the black glasses and then tried to ‘match up the stuff on the bed’. I was actually told to match up the socks and all I’d managed was to mess up the bed entirely.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I was allowed, as many would not be, to escape from a spell I pray will never be cast upon me.

Feeling nauseous, which stayed with me for a couple of hours, I was intrigued to know why the tour was set up like it was and how other people had reacted.

Tony, 53, said: “I’ve seen headsets thrown off and people have tried to hit me in the past. One lady had me on my back.

“People want to back out of this all the time.

“I am quite grumpy with people because I am trying to show them how some people might speak to someone with dementia.

“Careful research was carried out on the noises people hear for four years so PK Beville could give people an experience that was medically proven.

“The prickly insoles are to imitate peripheral neuropathy, where nerve endings get damaged, and the gloves are to give you a feeling of having arthritis, often found in people with dementia.”

It amazed me how much thought American creator PK Beville had put into the tour, which has now reached 2.5million people in 17 different countries.

That’s 2.5million people who now understand the condition at least a little bit better than they did before. I knew I had a lot more sympathy and respect for people with dementia and Alzheimers than I did eight minutes before.

As did Birch Hall Care Centre manager Janet Aspden, who organised the experience for family members of patients said the experience helped her to provide better support.

She said: “We look after 80 residents, at least half of which have some form of dementia.

“The tour gave me a more thorough insight and we had 36 staff going on it in our dementia awareness day.

“I have always thought we had good care, but it did do a lot for us, like we know to touch someone and always introduce ourselves now because we know that comforting approach helps.

“It is so important that people gain an understanding of what it is like.”

I had a small walk through the advanced dementia unit at Birch Hall and I could feel tears behind my eyes.

How could anyone be ignorant of their suffering?

I know at some point someone close to me might be dealt this awful disease, and as scary as that might seem, it would be nothing compared to the terror they would be going through.

And after seeing that terror, I know I would only ever want to help.