I shakily walked out of my ‘office’ (the spare room), went downstairs to make a cup of tea. I popped my head into the living and, through my mask, I asked grandma if she wanted a cuppa:

‘Do you want tea?‘ I croaked at her ‘God, I feel worse than yesterday.‘

‘We’ve no soap.’ Was her answer, in a tone that made it clear this calamity was my fault.

I didn’t answer, deciding I didn’t have the energy to argue or reprimand her for being rude, and went into the kitchen to make my solitary tea.

That’s the thing with old people, they can be incredibly selfish. Grandma doesn’t care that I’m sick, that I have a fever and should be in bed. Instead I got up early to get her breakfast ready, got her settled, and am in the middle of doing a full day at work. I will also cook and clean for her as I do everyday so her routine doesn’t change. The fact I’m ill is not her concern, despite the fact I have nursed her through illness countless times and saved her life more than once. When you’re ill as a carer, there are no days off or staying in bed. You keep doing what needs to be done, you just do it sick.

I understand her mentality, she is in survival mode. She knows that if I’m not here, she’ll have to go into a home – none of the family is willing to take care of her as they’ve made that clear- and it is easier to take my presence and my sacrifices for granted or not to think about them at all.

I can hear you all thinking that she’s 98 – she’s earned the right to be grumpy and that I should shut up. I bet those thoughts are coming from non-carers, when you’re someone’s carer, you realise it is possible to literally devote your life to that person’s wellbeing while simultaneously being annoyed beyond all measure by them. I’ve said before that my relationship with my grandma is ‘grittier’ than it was before. She vents her frustration, fear, and anger at me, keeping it hidden from the rest of the family. I do the same, I try my best to keep a lid on it most of the time, but my frustration does boil over from time to time. Grandma is human, she is funny and sweet, she is also riddled with anxiety, she worries about everything, she’s an introvert, a great actress, and she can be very cutting when she wants to be.

I’m hastily writing this blog instead of venting my frustration at her, but she was wrong to snap at me when I’m unwell and just trying to get through the day, even if she is nearly 99.

In case you’re wondering, we did have soap, she just couldn’t see the white bars of soap in the cupboard, we have enough for everyone in the cul de sac to shower for days!

Rant over.