Hanging on

Am I a carer?

I didn't think I was but it appears I may be. I am to have a 'Carer's Assessment'. (Apparently it will be in the back of the pack that is to be brought to me by the Social Worker). I fear this might make it 'official’.

I don't feel like I care at the moment ... I feel like I am on a slippery slope.

Up till now, I have been hanging on to my identity in my own home. I have managed to keep my job but have dropped to two days a week to make things 'easier'; I have hung onto my studio - I intended to spend two days a week there, but I am lucky to manage just one day. I have hung onto my space … but the signs of caring encroach.

We had a Stanna Stairlift installed five or so years ago, grab rails, a variety of Zimmers for different rooms, and the 'real carers’ arriving night and morning ensuring I always feel 'on parade'.

But tonight I feel like I might have 'let go'. Another small shift of need has tipped me yet again over the personal line I said I would not be able to cross when this all began. I found two of the hospital pads that came home with us yesterday waiting for me in a bucket beside the toilet. I dealt with them in the practical and sensible way that I feel is fitting, without a word. But inside the scream of protest could be 'heard' through every fibre of my being.

Author: The Reluctant Carer
Written: November 2009