Thoughts of a carer

  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 ...

I've just come off the phone after a regular chat with my mum. She's 88, living in a tiny bungalow in what was once a development of sheltered accomodation in South Cambridgeshire. (I say 'what was once' because, some years after she moved in, the council gave up on the 'sheltered' idea, just giving the residents a phone number to phone if they needed anything, and once-a-week visits from a council officer.) My mum was quite mobile in January 2020, but, as our leaders gradually put the fear of God into people, she stayed indoors in her tiny home from March that year. 'Use it or lose it' is the phrase my osteopath uses with regards to muscle strength, and, by February 2021, my mum was hospitalised due to her legs not working. She then spent maybe ten days in Addenbrookes followed by a couple of weeks in a rehab unit, where they were apparently much in demand due to the numbers of old people who'd stopped walking during the lockdown. By March my mum wa...

We have more space on our drive than most. We have a small courtyard garden in front of our garage (which is used for storage and as a workshop). I don't mean that we have done what some of our neighbours have - turned the drive into a garden, and are using the street or pavement as storage for our car. No.  Eighteen months ago we got rid of the car. And we don't miss it one bit.  When Viv was ill, the car was useful. Indeed, we couldn't have done what we did - go on holidays, go out to shops and hospital appointments - with her in a wheelchair without the car.  But even before that - back in 2016 - we were questioning whether we really needed one. For a whole year - March 2016 to March 2017 - I kept a record of every expense we incurred relating to the car - insurance, tax, maintenance, fuel, cleaning and washing - everything. I also kept scrupulous records of our mileage and purpose of journeys. Financial costs of car usage At the end of that time I was able to look at...

 It can be really furstrating being a carer sometimes. Lockdown doesn't help, for we all are stressed, but I don't think the public at large understand some of the little difficulties that, over time, make life difficult for a carer. Viv had hydrocephalus for an extended period of time. This, according to the experts, is likely to lead to a 'permanent cognitive deficit'; in layman's terms, it means she has suffered some brain damage. It presents itself as short term memory difficulties; she forgets a discussion that we had earlier, or puts something in a 'safe place', then forgets where that is. It also means that she struggles to follow complex conversations: when we have a phone call with a doctor, for instance, or with a relative, I need to be involved, and run the conversation at our end of the phone. + + +  This may not sound particularly difficult to live with, it's not like having to be bum-wiping every three hours, but it's not that simple. W...

  I sent a text yesterday, to Jacqui, our hairdresser: Hi Jacqui Hope you are well and coping with the madness Viv and I were booked for haircuts on Monday but we think you aren't supposed to be working? We will call you to fix up another date when Boris makes up his mind that it's safe ... so probably in 2024! Well hopefully sooner! That 2024 reference was meant as a joke, but when I read it back to Viv it didn't really seem like one: the way things are now: we haven't even got a visit from the hairdresser to look forward to, let alone holidays or trips to see family - which are noticable by their absence from our planner calendar. When lockdown struck in March last year we had four holidays planned and booked - two weeks in Germany in April, a week by the Essex coast in July, a week in Devon in September and one in the Isle of Wight at Christmas. We did manage Essex and Devon, not at the dates we had planned, but cancelled Germany and the Isle of Wight.  Like many we ...