‘That’s no problem at all. I’ll wait for your call and see if we can start again in 6 weeks.‘ Said the lady at the other end of the phone from the private caring company. ‘It actually helps my rota!’

‘Ok, thank you.’ I answered. That last comment didn’t register with me at the time as I was exhausted. I had called the private care company to cancel their visits for the next 6 weeks as grandma was deathly ill with pneumonia and I was looking after round the clock. I didn’t need their usual help with cleaning and taking her to the local shop.

I was reminded of that exchange when my parents (who both live in France) enquired with said private care company about getting extra help. They’d insisted on meeting with them, in a (misguided) attempt to help me I think. I knew what the answer would be and I was busy working so I was glad to have them out of the house to find out for themselves how little help is available, even if you’re willing, or more likely, forced to pay for it. They also tend to not believe how bad the situation is to I thought this would be a nice eye-opening experience for them.

‘Mais c’est pas possible!‘ (‘But it’s not possible!’) I heard mum say as she came into the house. I sighted and braced myself for a furious debrief of how the meeting had gone once my work day was over. A few hours later, I took a deep breath and entered the living room to ask what grandma wanted for dinner, knowing it would give mum the opportunity to talk about how the meeting had gone in the kitchen (and in French) while we cooked.

She was horrified. She’d discovered that I, in fact, wasn’t lying about the lack of paid carers in the UK and that the private care company had informed them they would not be able to provide us with more hours of help than the two and and half hours a week we already had. The concept of us having to pay for care was alien to mum in the first place as this is covered by the French National Security system and you only pay reduced rates in certain circumstances. Matters weren’t helped by an email the head of the caring company had sent following the meeting with my parents which, in a passive aggressive in tone, basically said ‘take what we can give you or leave it’. I thought it was a strange move for them to send that email but I wasn’t in the meeting so perhaps they felt it necessary to reiterate the points that they struggle to hire and keep staff. Very true, but not sure how their clients can fix the problem (apart from me sacrificing my life, of course).

For those who think they’ll be able to pay for care – I have bad news: there is a huge lack of paid carers in the UK,  there are about 165,000 vacancies in the adult care sector. Which begs the question: when the worst happens, who are you going throw money at? If the private care providers can’t meet the needs of your loved ones, and the NHS can’t either – what do you do? The matter is all the more complicated when the person who needs care has complex needs. You need adequately trained paid carers to help, and they’re even rarer. So you’re at the mercy of rotas that change constantly, new carers every week that you have to train up on what to do yourself – essentially you’re paying for you to do the work half the time.

Need more convincing? Here are two recent stories that made the press:

• Carer shortage: Woman stuck in hospital for 11 months
• Mother stays awake for 60 hours as son’s care breaks down

These are not one off examples, this happens all the time. The system is crumbling and even the private sector can’t provide an adequate solution, if you can afford it. These stories leave me heartbroken and in despair that the situation is getting worse. Unpaid carers are screaming out for help and nobody is listening.