As time went on, and the pandemic eased, I realised I needed a little bit of help to manage my demanding job and my caring duties (as explained in my previous blog here). There wasn’t much, if any, help available from the local council or the UK’s National Health Service (NHS) so I started looking at local private caring companies online. I selected the top three best looking ones and asked them to come over to see what services they could offer. 

Grandma was dubious about the whole idea, still insisting she was fine and that she had me to look after her so there was no need for anyone else. I had to deploy the ultimate bargaining chip that is her only son, my father, to tell her she should consider the idea. She begrudgingly accepted to meet my carer selection and choose which one she liked best.

The vetting process was pretty straight forward and mainly consisted of us answering basic life questions. I did most of the talking as Grandma sat in her chair in an obvious sulk and only spoke when she was directly spoken to. 

After our three vetting meetings, I said to Grandma: ‘Well, what do you think? I liked the first ones the best. Shall we try them out?’ 

‘Yes, alright. At least they didn’t speak to me like I was an idiot!’ She said, clearly not appreciating some of the carers’ professionally cheerful style.

We agreed they would come twice a week, for an hour to do some light cleaning on Mondays and on Tuesdays for an hour and a half to take grandma to do some shopping. We’re lucky that we are able to (just about) afford it, for two and a half hours of help a week (which is essentially taking an old lady to the co-op and hovering a specific part of the house) the total per month is around £300. Expensive. It got me thinking about the huge expense of more intensive care or if it were needed everyday.

These companies are filling a need that the healthcare and social care system should but doesn’t provide, and they do an overall good job. I did think them doing a full risk assessment for handling the hoover was a little much but thankfully it passed the test.

In my dealings with the caring company, their lack of carers on staff is obvious, as well as the difficulty they have in retaining their carers which means we don’t have an established routine of the same carers coming every week. Grandma is less suspicious of the concept now so doesn’t mind when new carers show up and I now have a well-rehearsed script when it comes to showing them the cleaning jobs. We only had one hiccup at the beginning that I was glad to witness:

‘Laura, can I come in?’ I heard grandma whisper at the door of my ‘office’ (the spare bedroom). 

‘Yes.’ I answered. She opened the door, panting as she’d come up the stairs, it understandably became more and more an effort as the years passed. 

‘The carer has just arrived and now she wants to leave…’ Grandma said, worried. 

‘What? But I just heard her car pull up, that was 15 minutes ago?’ I said, confused, getting up. 

I went downstairs to ask what was going on, only to be rudely told that she’d finished the job and that the old lady was confused about what time she’d arrived. I politely informed her that the old lady was not confused, and that the hoover hadn’t even been switched on. The carer insisted that we were wrong , lying , and left in a huff. I was angry that she’d tried to take advantage of a 90-odd year old and also happy that grandma had the presence of mind to come and find me. I immediately called the caring company to complain, and to their credit, they dealt with it very well and we have never had any issues since.

At the beginning, grandma treated her carers as guests and kept trying to have me make them tea, defeating the entire point of the exercise. The carers are all very nice, patiently befriending my grandmother and chatting with her if they have time after their work. She still refuses to call them carers so she calls them her friends, and will introduce them as such if she bumps into anyone on her shopping trips. She will even stand at the front door, and wave her favourite carers off as they drive away, like she would friends or family, I have a suspicion she is partly doing this for the benefit of the neighbours and to keep up appearances.

The life lesson here is : If you don’t like it, rename it!