Category: Carer

Carers run the world

Mar 8th, 2024

If I was called Laurent things would be very different for me. I’d be a man, and therefore, almost certainly would not be an unpaid carer to my grandmother. I wouldn’t even have been asked to come up and help her in the first place four years ago.

Why? I’m not really sure how to answer that, I think because of the bias that exists in society. Women help. They care. And that’s their job. We’re ‘built’ that way. That is, to some extent, the conscious (and unconscious) bias that we all exhibit. Maybe that is true, maybe women do care more and offer help more readily than men. I don’t think that distinction, if it exists, should punish women and diminish their chances of living the lives they want.

But punish us, it does. Women are significantly more likely to provide unpaid care compared to men and, depending on what research you read, around 60% of unpaid carers in the UK are women. This means they are more likely to work part time or stop working altogether, Carers UK estimates that 600 people a day quit their jobs in the UK to provide unpaid care.

What happens if women stopped caring? Think about it. What would we do if the women in our lives stopped doing all the extra things they do for their family, friends, and community? The world would be a much harsher place, with less support and generally less love.

According to Beyoncé’s immortal words, girls run the world. I agree and I would argue that unpaid carers do a lot of that too. We run our loved one’s world. We do it with love, attention, fun, and *very* efficiently. Today is International Women’s Day and I will have a special thought for all the women in my life, and an extra special rage-tinged thought for all the women unpaid carers. These women who are constantly caring, at the expense of their own lives, who are ignored by society, and often driven into poverty. These women who are pillars of strength and support for their families, and hold up the UK’s crumbling social care and health service.

Today will be the same as every other day for us unpaid carers, but I will be grateful that we exist.

And, yes, I know a lot of men are also unpaid carers and they too provide care. In our society, everyday is International Men’s Day, let us have this one.

Sources:

https://www.health.org.uk/publications/long-reads/understanding-unpaid-carers-and-their-access-to-support#:~:text=Most%20people%20will%20have%20caring,60%25%20of%20carers%20were%20women.

https://www.employersforcarers.org/resources/facts-and-figures/#:~:text=The%20gender%20ratio%20has%20remained,women%20and%2042%25%20are%20men.

https://www.carersuk.org/press-releases/research-more-than-600-people-quit-work-to-look-after-older-and-disabled-relatives-every-day
Nonager

Mar 4th, 2024
I’m dealing with a full blown rebellion. Since turning 99, grandma has gone from toddler behaviour to teenager behaviour. I’m dealing with a nonagenarian teenager – a nonager – if you will. She has been using her age to justify her unruly behaviour, much to my amusement. This does mean I have to do more supervising to prevent mishaps, but overall, grandma’s teenage behaviour is endearing.

She has been using her advanced age to justify the following ‘bad’ behaviour:
- Exercises: we have been doing a little evening workout for years. It involves getting up and sitting down 10 times and doing 5 laps of the living room. This was recommended by the doctor after her first bad bout of pneumonia to get her mobility back and her lungs functioning properly again. She’s usually very disciplined about this little routine but she has refused to do it for a few weeks now. For no other reason than ‘being idle’. I’m letting this go for now… I don’t have the energy to coax her out of her chair after a long day at work.
- Wine: grandma loves her wine. She likes it red, any kind, and lots of it. She is usually quite good at sticking to her self-imposed two glass limit at lunch, but since her birthday, all bets are off. She’s not even trying to be discreet about it, and will insist on me pouring her a third glass, defiantly saying: ‘I’m 99 and being naughty!’ She’s (somewhat) capable of pouring herself a glass so I’m not always there when it happens. I can always tell though, as she’s wobbling all over the place and will be covered in bruises from bumping into walls and tables etc.
- Pills: I put her pills out in the morning and she is usually pretty good about taking them. But, you guessed it, not so much anymore. I’m much more strict on the pill front so I insist she take them and will watch her begrudgingly swallow them.
- Diet: I’m grandma’s cook and make sure she eats healthily. I’ve had no complaints and grandma eats well. She has taken to requesting her favourites in advance, like some posh lady of the house telling her cook what she wants for the week. I don’t mind that bit and I’m glad she likes my cooking. Recently, she has taken to not eating the fruit I prepare for her at breakfast. This is how our conversation goes most mornings: ‘Grandma, why aren’t you eating fruit?‘ I ask, looking at the uneaten remains of the breakfast plate. ‘I had marmalade.‘ Is grandma’s answer from her chair in the living room, where she is cosily sipping coffee. I sigh: ‘ I know, but that’s not fruit.‘ ‘Well… it is oranges.‘ Is the answer I get. Her biscuit consumption has also definitely increased.
- Skincare: I have made grandma moisturise since I became her carer, her skin is so thin that she gets cuts easily and, even she admits, it feels better after we do her morning skincare routine. Since she has been quite good about it recently, I have let her do it herself and discovered she has been faking it. Hilariously, she has been pretending to put her creams on by opening the pots and closing them for my benefit as she knows I can hear her when I’m washing up in the kitchen. I caught her red-handed, she was very surprised but eventually confessed. She accused me of spying on her, which I was doing, to be fair. I have now taken charge of the skincare again. I only do this so she can convincingly lie to the dermatologist when we go to her post skin cancer check ups.
When I ask her why she is being naughty, she says she doesn’t know but she clearly enjoys it. I find it funny too and a bit baffling as most of her ‘misbehaving’ doesn’t benefit her. Maybe she’s trying to remind me that she’s the boss…like I could ever forget!
Gen S

Feb 29th, 2024

Social media algorithms aren’t always bad. That’s how I came to learn about Two Generations. An organisation that matches younger people to share homes with an older person looking for assistance and companionship in exchange for affordable housing.

This struck me as I live with a 99-year-old and often think about what older people do if their families aren’t willing or able to live with or help them as they get older.

Through the power of a direct message on social media, I got in touch and set up an interview with Two Generation’s head of service delivery, Lisa Goldsobel.

– Can you tell me about Two Generations? What does the organisation do?

Homeshare is an ideal way of allowing someone to remain independent in their home, whilst offering them companionship and practical support. Two Generations matches a younger person, known as a Homesharer with a typically elderly person, the Householder, who is potentially lonely or isolated and looking for help and support in their home in exchange for affordable accommodation.

Our sharers range from being in their 20s-60s; some work full or part time, others work from home. Sharers can help with meal preparation, food shopping, odd chores around the home, gardening, help going to appointments etc. and of course companionship. They are also there to offer the Householder as well as their family, the peace of mind and reassurance of knowing there is an overnight presence in the home.

Sharers cannot offer physical care, bathing, dressing or administering medication, although many of our Householders also have private daily carers alongside having a sharer, giving them a balance of support in the home as well as the reassurance of an overnight presence and continued relationship from their sharer.

We match our Householders and Homesharers based on their needs, backgrounds, hobbies and shared interests.The important factor for us is that we find the right person so a genuine companionship can be made. Once we have found a suitable match we send Householders a profile of that person and run full background checks, references and DBS Police checks before any Homeshares begin.

– What sparked the idea?

With so many people facing loneliness, a lack of suitable housing and extortionate rent, the growing trend for multi-generational living makes perfect sense. The founder, Sam Brandman, originally came up with the concept after he lost his grandmother who was an incredibly impressive lady; taking degrees and playing in table tennis championships in her 80s. He saw her need for some companionship and support at home, and also recognised the opportunity for someone to live with her, benefit from affordable accommodation and learn from an older generation.

– Do you operate across the UK?

We are nationwide, we have matched over 70 Homeshares from Perth to Plymouth.

– What are the main benefits of home sharing?

For the Householder – companionship, peace of mind that there is an overnight presence in the home, help with practical tasks in the home, being able to access community activities by having someone to go out with, sharing their interest and knowledge, allowing them to remain independent in their home.

– What type of help do the homesharers provide?

Sharers can help with meal preparation, food shopping, odd chores around the home, gardening, help going to appointments etc. and of course companionship. They are also there to offer the Householder as well as their family, the peace of mind and reassurance of knowing there is an overnight presence in the home.

– Do you mainly provide this service to older people?

Most Householders are in their 70s, 80s and 90s, but we have had Householders as young as 27 benefit from having a sharer. Similarly we have Homesharers who are in their 60s or 70s.

– How does your service benefit the householder’s wider family?

Primarily it’s the reassurance of knowing someone else is there for their loved one, whether it be the overnight presence, knowing if they were to call someone would be around to cook a meal, help with food shopping etc. For many family members it offers them respite from caring for their loved one and a sense of another person who is part of the fabric of support.

– Do you see this type of service increasing in the next few years? Why?

Loneliness and isolation as well as affordable accommodation are two huge issues currently and neither are close to being solved. Homeshare offers a solution to both.

– How will society at large benefit from your service?

Reports show that loneliness is now being recognized as a crisis that’s driving a range of health issues, including cardiovascular disease, dementia, stroke, depression, and anxiety. Analysis from the UK Campaign to End Loneliness and the Office of National Statistics have found that the total number of people in the UK who say they “often” or “always” feel lonely increased from 2.6 million people in 2020 to 3.3 million people in 2022.

Experts on the topic have said that solving the crisis of isolation will require cultivating the experience of belonging – which is a connection not only in terms of people, but also place, power, and purpose.

– Where can people find out more about Two Generations?

You can learn more on our website: www.twogenerations.co.uk or find us on Facebook and Instagram

—

I think this is a wonderful initiative that, crucially, is feasible in the society we live in. It solves two huge issues and, I’m willing to bet, creates lovely friendships. When grandma was a bit younger and required less care, I think she’d have made a great Householder. She has stories for days, is unintentionally hilarious, and would have loved the company of someone in the house after my grandfather died.

I’m delighted an organisation like this exists and everyone should know about it! I get very confused by the generation names we’ve started to use. I’ve no idea if I am a millennial, part of Gen Z or Gen X but I think we could all benefit from being part of Gen S- Generation Support.

P.S: If you’re looking to do something fun and help Two Generations out, they’re looking for a volunteer to help them manage their social media for a few hours a week. If you’d like to help out, get in touch in the comments.
Bored bubble

Feb 22nd, 2024

I’m bored. I’m so bored. As bored as bored can be. Yes, I’m stressed, busy, and my shoulder still hurts but after weeks of solid groundhog day-ing I’m thoroughly tired of everything.

Can you be bored and stressed? Maybe I mean I’m uninspired? The drudgery of my everyday life is getting to me and I’m not interested in anything. This is rare for me as I usually find most things spark my interest. I will watch a documentary on anything and love learning new facts. But this week, I simply can’t be bothered. I do what I have to do with no enthusiasm.

I don’t even want to eat, I cook for grandma but barely eat for myself. I have no appetite and every recipe idea I usually enjoy sounds dull to me. It is like I live in a numb bubble. A bored bubble if you will. Constant caring sucks the life out of you, and you become a shell of your former self. Things that used to matter to me don’t as much anymore, or things that would make me angry don’t trigger me. Even writing the overused-by-social-media-influencers word ‘trigger’ has no effect on me. (Apologies for using it dear reader, I’ll do better in the next blog ).

The thing about being busy and having an endless caring and working to-do list is that you don’t have time to think, that time is usually when I get an idea or will think of something to look up, read or listen to when I grandma is having her post-lunch wine nap at the weekend. Time to think is crucial for me, as an anxious over-thinker, but it is also my (very small) super power. I can usually come up with an idea a minute or a creative story angle for work, which is handy as that’s a big part of my job. It is that creativity that keeps me inspired and interested in making an effort to stay engaged with life outside of my job and caring, even though I’m exhausted.

Being a carer means you can’t do what you love. A hobby or something you find fun. That’s important to stay inspired. That something is horse riding for me but I have no time to do it. I do walk by a field of horses on my early morning pre-work walks, perhaps a chat and a cuddle with a friendly pony will help me get my mojo back. Horses are great listeners.
Shouldering the burden

Feb 19th, 2024

My right shoulder is killing me. It started last Tuesday morning , I was going through my always-full inbox and I felt my muscles tighten, squeezing what I presume is a nerve. As the pain started to grow, I sighed as I tried to relax my shoulders.

‘Eugh…Not again…‘ I said to myself.

I’ve had this dull, aching pain for several days running from my right shoulder down my arm, I also sometimes have a tingling sensation in my fingers and turning my head in either direction causes very sharp pain. This has been happening on and off for about a year now. I think it is stress. I carry all my tension in my shoulder and have to consciously try to relax them every half hour or so throughout the day. I also ball my fists, every time I go to grab something, I realise that my hands are tightly clenched up.

With two more-than-full-time jobs, it is no wonder I feel stressed. I’m constantly in demand at work and have to care for grandma at the same time. There is no downtime or way to decompress after work (although I have thought of throwing my laptop out of the window a few times- not sure that counts…) so my shoulders stay tight and fists balled up. I’m very disciplined about doing a quick 20 minute pilates workout most evenings and have been trying out various stretches to ease the pain and get some movement back. It has mixed results, and the next email landing in my inbox has the potential to ruin my efforts.

This is just the latest example of the physical toll of being a working unpaid carer, I’ve been very on edge recently. I cry several times a day and have no patience. I hide this all very well of course, everyday I give Oscar-worthy performances of being fine to colleagues and even grandma has no idea I’m really struggling. The tension I feel staying firmly in my body, tightening and squeezing my muscles. I now understand why 600 people a day stop working to care for their loved ones, my situation feels increasingly untenable and I’m hanging on by my fingernails. Despite everything, I refuse to give up my job as it is the only thing from my pre-carer life and it saves me from the poverty trap the UK government forces unpaid carers into. I’ll keep hanging on and crumbling until the end and I’ll pay the (health) price when I get my life back.

My isolated situation makes things worse because not many people can relate (being a working parent is stressful, but not the same thing. Yes, that is a hill I’m willing to die on) and don’t want to constantly moan at my remaining friends, it isn’t very attractive, so I don’t talk to them about it. I moan about it in this blog, lucky you!

If my body keeps crumbling, I’ll have to brave the GP receptionist. I’ll beg for my blood test results while I’m there, and enquire about this scan I’m supposed to be getting but no appointment letter has arrived yet.

If you know any exercises to relax tense shoulders, please let me know! I’m going back to my shoulder-tightening never-ending to-do list.
Ignorance is bliss

Feb 12th, 2024
A favourite colleague said something unbelievably stupid to me last week. She called me to discuss a story angle and, as we always have a little chat, she asked me what weekend plans I had. As a carer, I never usually have any except more caring so I always avoid answering it, but last weekend, I had organised a birthday lunch for grandma at a local restaurant. Happy I actually had a real answer for once, I answered the question. Her response was something along the lines of: ‘grandmothers are great but you should find yourself a man‘.

I was stunned into silence and the following thoughts ran through my head:
- WTF?!
- Have I accidentally conferenced in my mother?
- How is this any of her business?
- Is she working for mother?
- WTF?!
- She wouldn’t have said that to a man.
- So much for women supporting women.
- Isn’t she divorced?
- God! Everyone thinks I’m a loser.
I quickly recovered and professionally ended the call giving her more work to do than strictly necessary because I might be a loser but I’m technically her boss. I had 10 minutes before my next call so I went downstairs to check on grandma and overthink about how much of a loser I am while making a cup of tea.

Yes, I know it was a stupid thing to say and yes, I also know she means well and was just clumsy in her wording. She’s right that I am as single as it is possible to be. I don’t need reminding. I went on a date with every dickhead in London before I became a carer, and have currently retired from the dickhead dating scene because I have enough to worry about without wondering why some guy I don’t know hasn’t texted me back and how he will react when he finds out I don’t drink. Incidentally, dear reader, do let me know in the comments if you want a date story or two, I have stories for DAYS. All bad and mostly funny.

This incident got me thinking that ignorance really is bliss, this colleague knows my situation but clearly has no idea of what it actually involves and how much your life is whittled down to a mere existence. She clearly thinks I have a choice in my situation and have the freedom to ‘go find a man’. My colleague, like most of the soon-to-be-carer population, thinks being an unpaid carer is like having children. Your life gets a bit more stressful and you have less free time but overall, it is manageable. They could not be more wrong… they will find out in due course how wrong they are, of course, and they should pay more attention to what being a parent carer is like for example.

I wish those people felt gratitude, they should feel grateful that they can’t even imagine what being an unpaid carer is like. They should enjoy it while it lasts. The one thing they should not do, is judge or offer ‘advice’. It is unhelpful, insulting and usually makes an already depressed carer feel worse. I was probably one of those people before I became a carer. I’m now a much more empathetic person, I know I can’t imagine what other people are going through so I try not to judge and catch myself when I do.

To everyone who knows an unpaid carer: first of all, thank you for sticking around. Please hear this- we know you mean well, but we don’t need your judgement. Please stop telling us what we *should* be doing. Instead, you can do one of two things: listen. Let us vent, cry, chat… just be there in person or on the phone. That’s enough. Or offer concrete help, offer to cook, to do laundry, to take over the caring for a bit etc. that is truly valuable.

I suppose I should be grateful to my colleague, I know she would be horrified that her comment hurt me. She also gave me something timely to write about with Valentine’s Day happening this week! I might do a bonus blog this week for the occasion as, spoiler alert, I have no hot date planned…
99 problems but love ain’t one

Feb 8th, 2024

Grandma turned 99 yesterday. I’m pausing here so you can say ‘awwww‘.

I heard that a lot yesterday. What a day it was! Grandma was thoroughly spoiled and a procession of neighbours and friends dropped by throughout the day to pay their respects to the doyenne of the cul de sac. Grandma was delighted and regaled her visitors with the secret to her longevity; according to her it is due to: olive oil, garlic, and 2 glasses of wine at lunch. I shall pause here for another ‘awwww‘.

At around 11.30, she got picked up to go to her luncheon club. I made sure she took the big boxes of chocolates to share with her lunch companions. She came back a few hours later with another box of chocolates and dozens of birthday cards.

Later that afternoon, the care company who help me out a little twice a week outdid themselves and came round with an ice cream truck to give grandma a 99 flake ice cream for her 99th birthday. She also had her first selfie with one of the carers- never too late to start! Another ‘awwww‘ pause.

We had a few more visitors later that evening with more gifts of flowers, jelly babies, and chocolates. We were both delighted and exhausted by bed time.

The day was pretty full on for me too. I had to wear another hat on top of my ’employee’ and ‘carer’ ones to include ‘party planner,’ and ‘baker’. I was running around greeting visitors and introducing them to grandma who can’t see well enough to recognise faces. This led to some awkward situations as I’m not very good at remembering names. I covered up my memory lapses by saying: ‘Grandma, look who’s here!‘ hoping the visitor would reveal their name. It worked very well, thankfully, and I was spared embarrassment.

In between the visitors, work calls, and emails, I had to do some emergency baking. I had failed in my plan to do a tiramisu much to the birthday girl’s disappointment. She agreed an acceptable plan B would be a boozy chocolate mousse, so with a Teams call on mute, I hastily whisked it up with extra added booze as an apology. I think she liked it as she refused to let go of her bowl to speak to my brother-in-law when he called to wish her a happy birthday later that evening.

Yesterday was hectic, joyful, and a welcome variation from the groundhog day we experience as carers. I was surprised and so happy to see how loved grandma is and, in that moment, I was proud of myself for enabling her to receive it.

P.S: The tiramisu is now planned for this weekend. 99-year-olds are divas.
Right message, wrong audience

Feb 5th, 2024
Last Thursday, ITV showed a documentary on unpaid carers in the UK. Carer social media was alight with comments encouraging their followers to watch it. I have a confession to make, dear reader, I didn’t watch it. I watched Dragon’s Den instead. I wanted a bit of entertainment grandma and I could watch together and, frankly, I couldn’t cope with the heartbreak I knew would be on display.

I don’t think I was alone in that choice. I’m willing to bet that a lot more people watched Dragon’s Den or anything else rather than a 30-minute documentary after Emmerdale that evening. I’m sure a lot of unpaid carers watched it though, which is great but entirely misses the target audience for this kind of content. We need literally everyone apart from unpaid carers to watch it.

Unpaid carers know the hardships faced, we know what it is like, and apart from perhaps relating to the stories on display, there isn’t much we can do about our situation. That’s why we need the rest of the population to care and help us bring this issue to the forefront.

I watched the show online last weekend. It said all the right things and made all the right points. The government’s and local authorities’ deafening silence, inaction and incompetence were highlighted and the human stories showcased were shocking. I felt helpless and wanted to give everyone a hug. But, watching as a communications professional, I was annoyed. Once at the very beginning, when the journalist introduced the piece saying that unpaid carers ‘voluntarily’ care for others. That is not true. We have no choice, and had I been the communications director at Carers UK, I would have asked for that bit to be re-recorded.

My main annoyance however was with the format. This type of show will not get cut through. Non-carers will not want to watch it. They will either think this will never apply to them or it is so uncomfortable to think about and they’d rather watch investors making entrepreneur’s dreams come true. Our struggles need to be showcased in a way that non-carers can relate to. They need to understand how it feels and what it is truly like to be in our situation, in a way that is not intimidating or will want to make them bury their heads in the sand. We want non-carers to talk about it as a known issue that they can relate to.

What kind of content gets cut-through in our society?

I’d say it either has to be shocking, controversial, or very funny. It also has to be relatable and entertaining. That’s where the tension lies: how can you make a topic that is inexplicable-until-you-experience-it relatable? And caring isn’t hugely entertaining either – you basically live the same say on repeat unless there is an emergency of some kind.

I have two vague ideas that I think could work:
- A comedy drama about an unpaid carer and the person they care for that is both funny and poignant. The Brits make such great TV, I’m sure it could be a success and get the general public engaged. The featured actors could also help raise awareness and get a national conversation going. If any producer is reading this, I have *a lot* of material thanks to grandma who is unintentionally very entertaining.
- A reality show that puts influencers in the shoes of unpaid carer for a period of time. Either shadowing real-life carers if feasible or being made to live like we have to, with the restrictions we face and the constant demands made of us. That format would help the general public understand what we face. I would ask influential and politically-adjacent people to take part like the dynamic podcasting duo Alistair Campbell and Rory Stewart, or marketing superstar Steven Bartlett, and other respected celebs- nobody from Love Island or the Apprentice. They could also use their influence to get people talking about this issue.
I’m not trying to diminish this documentary or the brave people who shared their story. It makes sense for documentaries like these to exist, but with an issue that is so difficult to explain and get people to engage with, a different approach is needed. Tales of unpaid carers need to be told in a different and persistent way.

This blog is not my (admittedly odd) cover letter to Carers UK for a job in their communications department, although I’d be very happy to get involved with them or any other charity for future campaigns.

And perhaps, with a bit of persuading, we could get the attention of producer extraordinaire, Richard Osman, to help us get unpaid carers on TV in a meaningful way.

P.S: You can watch the documentary on the following link. Let me know what you think: https://www.itv.com/watch/tonight/1_2803/1a2803a9393

Or you can read about it here: https://www.itv.com/news/2024-02-01/lindsey-burrow-who-cares-for-our-carers
Plan A to Z

Feb 1st, 2024

I’ve not had my camera on for online work calls for the whole of January. Not because I’m lazy or I haven’t brushed my hair – I rarely have time to do that anyway but that’s what pony tails are for- but because I’ve been sick. I look dreadful and I don’t want to impose my dead eyes and extreme paleness to my work colleagues. My boss is very understanding, she doesn’t mind what I look like as long as I keep doing my job which makes her the ideal boss for me.

Before you ask, no. I haven’t taken any sick leave because a) my job is ‘fast paced’ which is corporate speak for ‘complete chaos’ and b) I’m a carer and we don’t get sick days.

After weeks of not feeling well, I braved the GPs surgery and the rude-ceptionists (see what I did there?) to beg them for a 10 minute chat with an overworked doctor. They miraculously deigned to give me a phone appointment which proves how awful I must look. The doctor was concerned enough to order some tests for me which I was weirdly delighted about. I’m currently on appointment 2 out of 3 and don’t mind being poked and prodded as it is more medical attention than I have had in a decade.

The next medical battle will be getting the results and trying to speak to the doctor again for a plan of action. I hope there is actually something wrong with me. I know that’s a shocking statement but stay with me: if there is something medically wrong with me then a course of medication should be able to fix it. Easy.

My worry is that there isn’t anything physically wrong with me and it turns out I’m sick because I’m beyond burnt out and physically exhausted. There is nothing I can do about that. The doctor might try to sign me off work or tell me to ‘look after myself’ which is impossible for me. Even if I did get signed off, who is looking after the nearly 99-year-old? ME. So much for rest and looking after myself. If my body is finally manifesting my burn out, there is no Plan B. I’ll just have to carry on. I’m plan A, all the way to Z.

I’m also concerned about the slippery slope of being signed off work. Whether companies want to admit it or not, if you begin to show any perceived ‘weakness’ or inability to perform, you’re at higher risk of being sidelined and made redundant. I really don’t want to give up my career, which is the only thing that is still mine and for me. Sadly, this is what a lot of carers face. Juggling work and caring becomes too hard physically and mentally.

I have a sinking feeling that, after 4 relentless years, I’m finally physically crumbling. I mentally crumbled a long time ago and it follows that this would have an effect on my body. I hope some medical scaffolding can help me until I’m able to assess what being a carer has cost me .
A carer’s best friend

Jan 29th, 2024

January is a long month, right? Especially when you’re a carer. In the UK, it is relentlessly dark, rainy, and generally miserable. I’m constantly working and caring, and have been feeling very ‘off’- an even more tired and fed up version of my usual tired and fed up self.

I’ve not managed to go hiking recently because of all this; but I decided I needed to do the one thing that is guaranteed to make me feel better. I texted my friend to arrange a Sunday morning hike – I get up early and after having sorted grandma out – I walk up to her house on the moors and we take her two giants dog round the reservoirs. Grandma enjoys these walks vicariously through me and insists on a detailed breakdown of events once I’m back while I’m cooking lunch.

My friend and I chat about anything and everything and our time together has become very precious to me. It might be difficult to understand, but when you’re a carer, you crave ‘adult conversations’ that don’t involve repeating yourself or talking about events that have nothing to do with medical appointments, or relating to the chores we have to do on a daily basis. I like hearing about what is going on in her life, talking about world events, and sharing a joke or two.

One thing to know about me, dear reader, is that I’m a dog person. I have nothing against cats, they’re perfectly cute, but dogs are my soul animals. In my experience, having a cat is a lot like being an unpaid carer to a 98-year-old: minimal gratitude for the constant and considerate care you provide and harsh judgement for any perceived mistakes. Horses are a close second but they’re more difficult to interact with on a regular basis. Thankfully, dogs seem to like me too (something that is not guaranteed with cats) and my friend’s two Bullmastiffs are no exception. I love them and they love me back.

Another thing to note about me, and most carers I’d venture to guess, is that I’m pretty starved of love. As carers, all we do is show and give love. We show it in everything we do and the sacrifices we make day in, day out. That love is rarely recognised or reciprocated so your ‘love’ levels are always on empty. I’m also as single as it is possible to be, isolated, and can’t get a hug to save my life.

Well… that’s not quite true. I can’t get a human hug but I get a Bullmastiff hug quite regularly.

They’re glorious. Yes, you get slobber everywhere and you have to watch out for giant paws getting dangerously close to your face, but it is a small price to pay for the sheer happiness and pure joy I get from them. Like most huge dogs, they think they’re lap dogs and want to get as close as possible to you, on your lap and just generally on top of you. They both individually weigh more than me so them sitting on my lap is physically impossible. The loving mauling I get from them makes my heart sing, and I love the weight of them on me, like a *very* heavy blanket, I can literally feel their love. I’m lovingly squashed and I’m as happy as can be.

I leave my friend’s house feeling loved and like a person again. I hike back down from the moors with a little spring step, grateful for my friendship, and usually in need of a shower to get the slobber out of my hair.

I’m already planning when I will next be able to walk and talk with my friend and get a colossal canine cuddle.