Thoughts of a carer

  Introduction Prior to March 2017 I would walk the footpaths, pavements and other routes around my home town, and elsewhere, without thinking that there was any kind of problem with them. If there was an obstruction, I’d walk around it. It took a major ‘life event’ for me to see things differently. It was in that year that my partner, Viv, was struck down by a mystery neurological condition, one symptom of which was that she was unable to balance or control her legs. Following a spell in hospital she was discharged, and, after some rehab, by June that year we were equipped with a wheelchair; I could take her out to enjoy some aspects of everyday life that we both had previously taken for granted: the fresh air, shopping, going to friends’ houses, even the odd trip away, with the wheelchair folded up and fitting well in the boot of our small hatchback car. Prior to receiving the wheelchair, my only experience of ‘pushing’ another human in a wheeled conveyance had been some twenty-five

  When I’m asked about my occupation these days, I reply ‘carer’. It is often written that caring has a big impact on an individual’s life, and, indeed, their freedom; I can only go by my experience. Caring has completely changed my life. In this essay I shall try to explain how.  I’ve actually had three phases of caring: pre-critical illness, during critical illness, and post-critical illness. Viv’s ‘during’ phase lasted fifteen months, after which she began a slow recovery; the effects on me of what happened in that time will last much longer. In an attempt to relate the effect of caring to that of another challenge I’ve experienced, I’d like to go back fifty years. Daily life and freedoms as a Bluecoat boy, 1971 In 1970 I was admitted to Christ’s Hospital , the Bluecoat school. I’ve seldom claimed to have enjoyed the six years I spent there; it should have been seven but I persuaded my parents to agree to me leaving at seventeen, rather than study further to attempt to get a place a