Category: Uncategorized

One of a kind

Apr 11th, 2025

‘That’s very kind!‘ I heard that a lot last Saturday, or a variation of it.

Grandma felt well enough to want to try an outing to Rochdale to her favourite brunch place. I agreed, I’m happy to do whatever she feels like and even happier if it involves her eating something.

I knew it would be a mission. I was combining this trip with some errands I only get to do at the weekend and having grandma to look after on top would be a challenge.

I got up extra early on Saturday morning to get her ready, fed, and medicated.

‘Grandma, I’ll take you to the cafe in M&S and can you wait for me there while I go get what we need? We’ll have a look at some belts for you afterwards and then brunch. Yes? I don’t think you can go with me for all of it.‘

‘Yes, I’ll stay in the cafe I think.‘ She agreed.

It turned out that most people in Rochdale had the same idea. The cafe was full so I decided to leave her with a coffee in the Starbucks next door. I knew she wouldn’t like it but it would give her an excuse to complain, her favourite thing to do.

Sure enough, as I walked back into the cafe 40 minutes later ladened with two heavy shopping bags, grandma loudly announced she hated her latte and wondered ‘what on earth they had made it with?’

‘Coffee, presumably. Right, let’s get you up.’ I answered, shooting an apologetic glance at the barista who had definitely heard that remark.

As we were slowly making our way out of the coffee shop, a man hopped up from his seat and opened the door for us saying: ‘There you go love, it’s very good of you to take your grandmother out.’

‘Oh!Thank you!‘ I said, surprised and grateful in equal measure.

As we were very slowly making our way round Marks & Spencers, me guiding grandma around and describing everything on display, I noticed many shoppers smiling at me, a few even nodded approvingly. As we were queuing to pay, the lady in front of us insisted we take her spot because ‘It is so good of you to look after your grandmother’.

‘There really is no need, we can wait.‘

‘Don’t be silly, you have more shopping than me anyway. Go ahead.’

‘Alright, thank you so much!‘

All throughout brunch as I was helping grandma find food on her plate while trying to eat my own, I noticed glances from other diners. I felt self-conscious and wondered if I was making it up. As we left and I was wrestling with shoppings bags and trying to support and guide grandma, another nice man quickly got up to open the door for us.

‘Thank you!’

‘No problem, you’ve got enough going on. Good on you for doing this.’

Can we all take a moment to appreciate how kind Northern folks are?

Those very well-meaning comments made me feel like an imposter. I don’t feel kind. I do feel exhausted, frustrated, annoyed, overwhelmed, lonely, resentful – the list of ugly emotions goes on. I’m not a kindness crusader – this isn’t my whole personality, I do it because I have no choice.

I’m very appreciative of the nice comments and helpful gestures, my uneasy feeling isn’t about that. I can’t help but feel that if being a carer wasn’t seen as a personal choice or a ‘kind’ thing to do, we’d have more chance of getting the help we desperately need from the government.

This all feels too much to say to someone holding the door for me and grandma to shuffle through so I’ll keep smiling awkwardly I guess!
Tunnel Vision

Mar 17th, 2025

*Warning- the following post is miserable, feel free to skip this one if you’re already having a tough time.*

Did you know you can get a rash under your eyes from crying? I didn’t. I’ve been bawling my eyes out for over a week. Crying, caring and working; sometimes all three at the same time in my ever-efficient style. Thankfully, my under eye redness isn’t visible on work video calls and grandma’s vision is too poor to make out my red, swollen face.

I had to cancel a long-planned trip because my care cover fell apart and it has been the straw that’s broken my already-broken back (I fell off a horse when I was a teenager – long story). March also marks five years since I became an accidental carer. This double whammy has completely defeated me. I’ve sunk into the depths of despair. I’ve been alone in this dark tunnel for five years and there is no light in sight, just more fucking tunnel. It is getting narrower with more twists and turns too.

Why don’t you plan another trip? I hear the not-yet-carers ask. I can hear the carers’ laughs/sighs from here.

If only it were that simple. I live with a 100-year-old in heart failure and I work full time – I can’t plan ahead by a week. And even if I could, who is going to look after her? You wanna come and do that, dear reader? No? I didn’t think so. I won’t be able to go anywhere anytime soon, I don’t have anyone to go with anyway. Thinking about it is just holding on to false hope and the only person it hurts is me.

I feel like I’m wasting my life – it has certainly been true for the last five years. Caring has taken everything from me apart from my job, and I’m lucky that I’ve been able to hold on to that. When you’re a carer, the sadness you experience is unassailable, the virtual well-meaning sympathy I get from the few friends who haven’t left me yet, is sweet but I’m too depressed to be able to receive it. They probably don’t know what to say to me either, to be fair. Only carers can understand and comfort other carers which contributes to the already-crushing isolation.

I can’t cope anymore, it’s all too much. I can’t do it.

Except of course, I do. I care and I work, through the tears and the depression where everything is dimmed and takes a huge effort. Maybe I’ll bounce back, maybe I won’t, but for the moment – I’m beaten.
Grand con

Mar 7th, 2025

My workspite trip ended last week and I’m back to caring. I don’t know who is more distraught about it, me or grandma.

I’m struggling with going back to the isolation and the constant worry, care and work; and grandma is unhappy she can’t fool anyone at meal times anymore.

I spotted the con immediately.

I hadn’t even taken my coat off, I walked into the house where grandma and my father were having lunch. Except grandma was hiding her food under her mash potato – which is quite impressive as she’s blind.

‘GRANDMA! What are you doing?’

‘I’m having my lunch.’ She said, innocently.

‘Nice try, you’re hiding your food and you’re spitting it out in your tissue too I see..’ I said, looking over at dad.

‘What?! Mum, is that what you’re doing?’

‘Nooooo, that is a piece of gristle.‘ was the indignant answer.

‘Nope- what’s all the other bits in the bin then? Bad grandma. You have to watch her, dad!’

It transpired that grandma had used my father’s ‘hands off’ approach to caring to her advantage to not eat (a symptom of heart failure is a very reduced appetite), and he’d not been bothered enough to notice. She’d visibly lost weight and is weaker than when I left. Her pressure sores are back too.

My positive attitude vanished before I’d even unpacked my suitcase. I was right back at it, and with extra work to get her back up to some sort of acceptable state. The readjustment to caring life after a few days of ‘freedom’ (or normalcy for the not-yet-carers) is brutal. I was in secret tears for most of the week – tears of frustration, anger, fear, and tiredness and at having to be stuck in this situation and having to re-build some of the foundations I had laid.

I’ve calmed down now and back to my never-ending to do list of an existence. I don’t regret taking the trip but, in my situation, I don’t think it is worth being away for more than a few days. The return and what I have to come back to isn’t worth it for me, it makes me feel worse and all the benefits of the break dissipate as soon as I step back into the house.

I suppose the answer would be to take more regular breaks, with a better solution for alternative care, but that’s an impossibility for me and for most carers.

On the plus side, grandma is eating a tiny bit better and none of it is going in the bin… she’s definitely thinking up a new con. I can tell. I guess it keeps her occupied while I’m working and she’ll test it out on a new victim at the next available opportunity.
Workspite

Feb 17th, 2025

‘You don’t need to open your bag, love. Just put it on the tray.’

‘Oh, that’s new!’ I said, surprised.

‘Yeah, we’ve got shiny new machines now. You can go through now.‘

As I waited for my handbag on the other side of the airport security scanner, I wondered how long those machines had been in use. I slowly realised that I hadn’t been in an airport for a long time, let alone been on a work trip. I’d been so worried about the logistics of me leaving the house for an extended period of time, I hadn’t thought about what it would feel like to be in an airport again.

It felt glorious. I love airports, always have. Before I became a carer, I was lucky to have travelled a lot and have have lived in different countries so I feel excitement rather than worry at the prospect of a trip. In the departure lounge, I quickly found a spot for me to settle in with a latte and the book I’d been trying to read for 6 months. Bliss!

I was on my way to Paris to attend the AI Action Summit. Not a respite trip, as it was for work, a workspite trip – if you will. I loved every hectic second of it. Yes it was intense with lots of running around and not a lot of breaks to eat or sleep, but for those few days I was simply Laura Barnes; another conference attendee. I spoke to interesting people about interesting things, I wore clothes other than yoga pants, and had to remember my make up routine. There wasn’t one mention of care, of me being an unpaid carer, or of grandma. I admit, I didn’t even think about her for the first 3 days of the trip. Please don’t tell her!

For non-carers, these things might seem inconsequential but to carers who are often physically and mentally trapped in their houses, the ability to go out and interact with people about something other than caring is a great luxury. One that I’m very grateful for. This is why enabling those unpaid carers who can to work is so important, it is not only good for them (and the country) financially, it is also good emotionally. It reminds us there is a world beyond caring and we are valuable beyond our caring roles. I was happy to be able to focus solely on work and not have to think about anyone else for a change.

I don’t feel rested in the physical sense, I’m as tired as ever, but I feel refreshed mentally. I’ve made myself a promise to make an effort to leave the house more often, despite the logistics and stress involved, it is worth it and makes me a better human and carer too.
Common cents

Feb 7th, 2025
Well, it’s official. I live with a centenarian. Grandma is 100 today! Pretty cool, right? I had envisaged a blog full of wise words on the true meaning of life but despite my best efforts, grandma refused to answer any of my ‘silly questions’ so I’m sharing my thoughts on what has kept her going this long. Don’t worry, this is not a 100 point list.
- Good genes – I think it goes without saying that grandma is naturally very tough, and although heart failure has diminished her physically, she is still doing remarkably well.
- Anxiety– That sounds unhealthy, and it probably is, but I’m convinced her highly strung nature has kept her going. Her desire to not disappoint or even miss an appointment has made her ‘hold on’ for this long.
- Wine – This is grandma’s favourite response when asked about her secret to getting to 100. Everyday, she has two glasses of red wine with her lunch and she swears it does her good. Either because of the antioxidants in the wine or she’s pickling herself from the inside.
- Friendships – Grandma has lots of friends she keeps in touch with. They don’t engage in deep or particularly meaningful conversations but they gossip and giggle a lot.
- A sense of humour – Grandma is very funny. Occasionally on purpose, mostly not, and making her laugh regularly is part of my caring mission.
- Grumbling – As she’s told me umpteen times: ‘I’ve got to grumble!‘. I disagree but this habit might also be a key to longevity. She loves to grumble at the news, and answers she deems are stupid on quiz shows, and at me – naturally. Maybe she’s fuelled by her annoyance.
- Adaptability – Grandma hates change but once it has happened, she adapts very quickly and forms new habits. She then insists she has always had them.
- Sleep – Grandma doesn’t sleep for very long in bed. She hates it and is always up early but she does have naps in the afternoon. This means I also have to be up at the crack of dawn minus the luxury of afternoon naps. Not conventional but it works for this centenarian and I feel tired like one.
- Doesn’t dwell on the past – Despite her anxiety, grandma doesn’t do too much introspection, she gets over things quickly (or seemingly does) and rarely indulges in trips down memory lane. Maybe her forward-looking attitude has helped her.
- Me– Not to brag, but she wouldn’t have made it this far without me taking meticulous care of her. She’d publicly disagree with that statement but I did get a small ‘thank you’ this week. I was touched by this rare and unexpected display of gratitude.
So there you have it – no meditation, clean eating, or gratitude journals for this old lady. Helped by genetics, she embodies the grit and resilience of her generation. Make of it what you will 🙂
A Rose-y invitation

Jan 21st, 2025
It’s my fault – I shouldn’t have looked at the news that early in the morning. A headline grabbed my attention and instantly made my blood boil ( doesn’t take much – granted – as a carer you’re always on edge). The BBC headline read: Working from home ‘not proper work’ – ex-Asda boss

My initial reaction was ‘Oh what bullshit!’ Which prompted grandma to enquire as to what I was swearing about at 6.30 in the morning when I was meant to be sorting out her pills in the kitchen. ‘Nothing, just something I read.’ I answered, coming into the living room. I made a mental note to read the article properly later to have more constructive thoughts on the piece. After reading the article, Lord Rose does indeed think that home working is part of the ‘UK ‘s general decline and that employees’ productivity was suffering.’ What exactly does this privileged white man know about being an employee? When was the last time he had a ‘9 to 5’? What does he know about commuting and having responsibilities outside of work?

Some (constructive, I hope) thoughts:
- First context point : I am a working unpaid carer – I look after the PR for Europe and Americas for a global tech company and I also look after my nearly-100-year-old grandmother. I have two more-than-full-time jobs and only get paid for one. Because of this, I work from home. Not because I want to, because I have to.
- Second context point: I am not against any working policies – be it in the office full time, hybrid, or remote. I love being in the office and travel regularly to meet colleagues in London and internationally.
- I agree that being in the office does have benefits; it is a social experience and you get to know your colleagues better. For ‘creative’ jobs like mine, in-person brainstorming meetings can be very valuable. I think working and hiring policies should focus more on meaningful office time rather than blanket mandates that usually result in employees like me being in the office and spending their time in online meetings that we could have done from home.
- I completely disagree with Lord Rose’s claim that remote employees aren’t as productive. If anything, I am more productive. I have never missed an email, a call, or a deadline. Ever. As my teammates will attest, I also assume the role of Chief Colleague Chaser when they miss deadlines or emails (presumably while they were chitchatting making tea or in an in-person meeting that could have been an email). The article also references a ‘growing body of evidence’ that working remotely was more productive.
- My employer gets more out of me being remote. I start my days much earlier and finish them much later. I’m also always available if needed at weekends as I have everything I need to do my job at home. Similarly to the parent carer testimonial in the article, I have also done more things by 9am than any employee working from the office- they’re probably still in the queue at Pret for their latte at that time.
- I understand I am just speaking about my experience here; but these unhelpful and inaccurate generalisations make finding jobs for people like me even more difficult than it already is. The issue employers and government should be focusing on is how to keep the majority of the population employed and employable. Looking at the millions of unpaid carers in the UK, alone, 600 of us have to quit their job everyday to provide care for their loved ones because of the utter failure of the social care system. Given that most of us will need to provide care or be cared for in our lives, flexible working policies would go a long way to accommodate this growing need (sorting out our failing NHS and social care system would help too, obvs, but that’s a different rant).
- Care probably isn’t something Lord Rose and other (male) CEOs of major companies know much about or have even considered. Lord Rose -incidentally- if you hired a nanny to look after your children while you were off doing your important job, they would work from (your) home, right? Is raising your children not ‘proper’ work?
I extend an invitation to you, Your Lordship, to come and spend a day in my shoes as a working unpaid carer. I challenge you to do what I do for a full day. To live the life many employees live- who are forced to juggle immense responsibilities through circumstances outside of their control. I’m an excellent, motivated, and productive employee who produces ‘proper’, valuable, and successful work; and who has to work remotely because of the lack of social care in this country. I suggest *THAT* is much more part of the UK’s decline than any remote or hybrid working policy.

So, go on, hop on a train to Manchester (or a bus replacement service… also another potential reason for the UK’s decline?) and understand what you’re talking about before making broad statements. We have a spare bedroom you can stay in, although there won’t be much sleeping happening, we’re all about productivity here!

Some more thoughts on remote working and being a working unpaid carer here and here, if you’re interested 🙂
Hug it out

Jan 14th, 2025

I want a hug. A massive bear hug that lasts longer than a normal hug and someone (preferably the ‘hugger” – it would be weird if there was another person there) to tell me I’m not alone and that it is going to be OK (and perhaps make me a cup of tea?). Except that I am and it won’t be. I haven’t had a hug in years. I can’t remember the last time. I used to love a good hug, not a romantic one, that’s not remotely possible at the moment.

I am alone and crushingly lonely. Yes, I live with my grandmother but I am alone in the responsibility of her care and in the constant fight to get any sort of help. A heavy weight to carry when you’re dealing with a very elderly person with heart failure. It is a hard and constant slog, with no break.

They say sharing is caring, I think ‘they’ have a point in this context. There is no sharing this burden (strong word, but true for me). This is where loneliness comes in. I can talk to friends and blog readers about it and I’m grateful I’m able to do that, but most friends can’t begin to understand what it is like. I don’t have anyone with me, physically, to share and help. There is no-one to bond with, in person, over the same experience.

I realised this week that the longest conversations I have are about work – about a strategy, a press release, or trying to decipher the latest corporate acronym. Those conversations happen via my laptop and stop when I finally close it at the end of my too-long day. I’m then greeted with silence, there is nobody to download my day to, nobody in my corner, nobody to share a joke with or explain the plot of a detective TV show grandma likes to watch. It is just me. All the time. I do everything alone.

Loneliness is an odd thing to describe, it is like a constant blunt longing for human connection. It feels like an emptiness in the pit of my stomach or like I’ve forgotten something important – a constant impression that something is missing.

Katy Styles (founder of the We Care Campaign) and I recently interviewed Mary-Ann Ochota on our podcast, she is an anthropologist, broadcaster, and former carer. She said that humans are deeply social creatures which didn’t come as a surprise but it struck me how little socialisation I get; and I much I suffer for it. I’m sure most carers struggle with loneliness and isolation too.

This is all rather miserable isn’t it? Perhaps it is because we’re currently in the depths of winter and it is freezing outside. Come to think of it, that can’t be it. I’m lonely all year round, and summer is the worst time to feel it. I can’t get anyone to go on a trip with me for love nor money (it would take planning but not impossible) so I scroll through everyone’s holiday breaks on social media. This makes me sound desperate doesn’t it? Embarrassingly, I am. Anyone would be after five years of isolation.

To the next friend I see in person – you’re getting a massive hug, whether you like it or not!
Unhelpful help

Jan 8th, 2025
‘I think these radiators need bleeding.’ Said my father early one morning last week.

‘Please don’t.’ I sighed ‘It is freezing and going to snow. I don’t want you to mess up the heating system.’ I said, as I looked back at my work laptop. It was the 2nd of January so I was back at work and dealing with whatever fresh stress my inbox was about to throw at me (it isn’t all bad, sometimes it is funny *and* stressful).

Dad didn’t listen and by mid-morning we had no heating or hot water. I was furious. Given he was visiting to allegedly help, this was decidedly un-fucking-helpful. Once I’d abandoned plotting his murder (who would look after grandma if I go to prison?), I thought compiling a list of what is actually helpful to unpaid carers was a more productive thing to do.

Before I begin, to all the friends-of-carers reading this, please don’t be offended by this blog. We appreciate your efforts to be part of our lives and your friendship, these are meant to be gentle suggestions. It takes a special person to remain close friends with a carer, one that doesn’t subscribe to the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ mentality. Given our situation, and our near-constant stress or exhaustion, we need a few adjustments to the more traditional friendship conventions. You’ll understand when it is your turn to become a carer.

Tips of providing helpful help:
- Ask us. It seems obvious but ask us what we need help with. We have a lot of tasks to get through everyday so we’ll always have something for you to do.
- Think practically. This is linked to the above but helping us with the grocery shopping, or with laundry for example is truly appreciated. I will never say no to someone who pops round with baked goods either.
- Be our break enablers. Giving us the luxury of an hour or two to take a shower, have a nap, or go out while you look after our loved one will guarantee a carer’s gratitude.
- Be adaptable. Planning can be tricky when you’re a carer, we might have to cancel plans at the last minute. On the plus side, we also make very understanding friends because of this.
- Tell us about your life. Please chat to us as you would a non-carer friend. We want to know about what’s going on in your life, your work drama, the really great holiday you’ve been on, or your take on current events. Anything other than caring or our situation. For that moment, it makes us feel like we’re part of the world and we can live vicariously through you.
- Stay in touch. We’re all busy, I get it. That’s why staying in touch even just over text is much appreciated. I have friends I haven’t seen for years but text regularly, knowing that when I get my life back and can leave the house, we’re having an in-person reunion.
Have I missed anything, my fellow unpaid carers? Would you send this to your non-carer friends? And yes, dad is still alive… for now.
New year, more life?

Jan 1st, 2025

Due to some inexplicable social media algorithmic calculations, I saw a short clip of what Kim Kardashian wanted for 2025. While my eyes adjusted to the level of (expertly injected) botox and filler, I heard her say: ‘Just more life, life is good.’

That’s nice. To have a life that is your own and aspirations as to how to mould it. That is not a possibility for most unpaid carers, we exist but don’t have lives of our own. So what can I aim for in 2025 if ‘more life’ isn’t feasible?

The usual lifestyle resolutions aren’t too relevant for me as I’m very boring. I don’t drink or smoke, and I’m already on the skinny side thanks to my no-time-to-properly-eat carer’s diet (not healthy but it works).

Should I look to take the next step in my career? I already work too much and, as I currently have to work remotely due to my other more-than-full-time unpaid job, I don’t think I’m very attractive to many employers. I also don’t think more work emails are the key to happiness, don’t believe everything you read on LinkedIn.

I think the answer for me is to do more meaningful work. Work that feels important, interesting, and helpful. Work to help raise awareness of unpaid carers, the issues we face, and lobby to get better social care for all of us. I already do what I can on my tiny scale with this blog, and a podcast I co-host with Katy Styles, the We Care Campaign‘s formidable founder.

What more can I do? Any ideas, anyone? How can I use my PR powers for good?

I want to generally ‘make more noise’ to quote Emmeline Pankhurst. So, I appeal to you We Care Campaign, Carers UK, Carers Trust and anyone else interested in all things caring to put me to work! Get in touch in the comments or on the socials 🙂

Happy New Year, all!
The No Health Service

Dec 17th, 2024

21st Nov. 2024

Dear blog diary, I don’t know where to start. When you’re a carer, you either live the same day on repeat or have to deal with some sort of emergency. I have been in a state of emergency for over a month now. Today was the most intense day, grandma couldn’t breathe again so I begged for a home visit from the doctor. When he finally arrived at around 1pm, he said she was in heart failure and had to be hospitalised. He called an ambulance while I rushed around to get things ready.

We waited a full four hours for the ambulance. It was awful to listen to grandma fight for every breath, deal with work, and try not to panic. The ambulance finally came, and as we set off, my phone rang. It was the doctor, I answered quickly, pleasantly surprised that he was checking in on a patient at the end of his day.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi Laura, it is the doctor. Have you seen my pen? I think I left it at your house when I was writing the letter for you to give to the hospital.’

‘Erm… I’m just in the ambulance now. I’ll see if I can find it later.’ I heard myself say.

‘Great, bye!’

I hung up, baffled and considered holding his pen hostage to make him do another home visit next time we needed one. He didn’t even bother to ask how grandma was. We got to the hospital and waited another three hours for an urgent admission, the place was empty apart from nurses casually walking past, giving us no attention. I finally snapped and went up to a doctor to speed things up. Grandma got admitted a little while later and I got her settled in bed before I had to leave. It was about 10 or 11 pm by that point and visiting hours were over. I got home, had a cry in the shower and tried to sleep. I was woken up at 1am by the landline ringing, I jumped out of bed to answer it. It was a doctor:

‘Hi, is that Alice?’

‘No, Alice is the patient. This is Laura, her granddaughter/carer.’ Off to a great start…

‘Right, well just to let you know that due to her age, if her heart stops we won’t jump on her chest.’

‘… is she that bad? How is she?’

‘She is OK, she has gone for some scans. Alright? Bye.’

What the hell was the point of that call?! And why aren’t they calling my mobile, I must’ve given it to four different people who all entered it into grandma’s record… clearly not. Was mum’s birthday today – thank God I remembered to text her.

22nd Nov. 2024

Went to see grandma after work – I have the best boss. My team is rallying round and helping me with my never-ending tasks. I’m grateful for that. Grandma is hooked up to an IV but in good spirits. I took her to the loo, made sure she was fed, brought her some snacks and hunted down a nurse for information. I got vague notes and gave her my phone number again to make sure they called the correct number.

23rd/ 24th Nov. 2024

Blurry weekend of hospital visits and catching up on work. Everyone is coughing in the hospital, even the medical staff. Nobody is wearing masks. I was told she might be discharged on Monday. I don’t think that will happen. They’re so disorganised, they couldn’t keep to a schedule if they wanted to. Still haven’t seen or spoken to a doctor. Grandma is now coughing too.

25th Nov. 2024

I called the hospital several times to find out if grandma was coming home today. Couldn’t get a straight answer until 3pm when they said no but that it would probably be tomorrow. I asked why but they didn’t know so I went over after work to visit and find out why. Turns out they couldn’t get anyone to read grandma’s latest ECG in time for the discharge team to do their job. So they wasted a bed by keeping her in another night when there was no need.

26th Nov. 2024

Today was discharge day. For some unfathomable reason, they called grandma’s old mobile phone which was buried in her handbag. Why would you call the patient’s phone to tell them they’re coming home… so far so NHS. I told the lady at the other end of the phone to PLEASE call my mobile number with any updates (for the eighth time, I’ve been keeping count). She allegedly noted it down. I didn’t believe they would get it right so I kept grandma’s old phone charged and next to me. It rang later that afternoon to inform me she’d be coming home. The ambulance arrived with grandma and her new medication with no instructions on how to take them or what she’d already had that day. Typical.

27th Nov to 1st Dec 2024

I’m sure I could qualify as an intensive care nurse. Grandma can’t do anything by herself so juggling work is extremely stressful. I completely understand why 600 unpaid carers a day quit their jobs. She’s responding to the medication but she still has this awful cough, I’m sure it will re-infect her chest and she’ll need the antibiotics I suggested when this all started but was ignored. How very NHS to send patients out sicker than when they went in.

2nd Dec 2024

Bingo. Grandma’s chest infection is back so I was back down at the GPs to beg for a home visit. A doctor I’d never spoken to before called later that morning, refused to come visit and prescribed the antibiotics I suggested because ‘let’s go with your plan’. ‘But I work in communications, I’m not a doctor – I’m just going from what worked last time…’ I stammered into the phone, trying not to let my rage show.

I’m pretty sure it is malpractice to prescribe antibiotics to a patient you’ve not seen or ever even examined before. I should have got his name and reported him.

5th – 9th Dec 2024

The only thing worse than caring for a very fragile person on your own is doing it when you’re sick. I’ve come down with some sort of flu and have a high temperature. It had to happen. I haven’t eaten or slept properly since grandma first got sick in October. I mask up and keep going but I took two sick days off work – a rarity for me. Won’t try to see a doctor, no point.

9th – 17th Dec 2024

Back to groundhog day, just a lot more intense. Grandma is the worst patient too which makes it harder. I’ve realised it is nearly Christmas, I used to love this time of year but I don’t have the energy to muster any festive spirit at the moment. I’m beaten down by the lack of medical care and competence, no help, and carrying the entire weight of grandma’s care on my shoulders. I feel like I’m constantly holding my breath. I’m due a Christmas miracle…maybe even just to find the doctor’s missing pen.