The life and times of a carer
Before I start this I'd just like to say that someone emailed me a little while ago and at the time my head was so full of 'stuff' that I failed to reply. There was actually more than the one of those but this particular one was from someone who lives in Lincolnshire and has a friend in a similar situation who lives quite locally. I went to look for the email today and it's disappeared from my inbox and is nowhere to be seen so if you recognise yourself here please, please could you get in touch again and I promise that this time I'll reply.
And now on with today's post............
I never thought I would call myself a carer. Not in the beginning, not even three years after diagnosis, but here I am four and a half years in and that's definitely my current role.
It's very odd living with someone who used to be your absolute equal and suddenly finding yourself talking to them in just the same way you used to talk to children (only, and Jake will confirm this, with much more patience than I had thirty years ago).
I found a definition of a Stepford Wife recently (from the book and the film of the same name) and it seems to describe me which is a little worrying. A Stepford Wife? 'a servile, compliant, submissive, spineless wife who happily does her husband's bidding and serves his every whim dutifully'. And that, ladies and gentleman, is what I've (almost) become.
This isn't how it was supposed to be. We were going to grow old together, have fun, enjoy retirement and do all the things we didn't have time for when life was busy. Instead I've just tucked Ash up in bed, given him a kiss goodnight and hurried downstairs ready to write this post just because this is the first moment in the day I've been able to.
Not only that but tomorrow I have an appointment to look at a care home. We're not there yet but, as I'm sure you know by now, I like a plan and there's no point in waiting for a crisis and then having to start the search. I've thought and thought about what sort of place I think he'd be comfortable in and tomorrow's will be my benchmark; a place to judge others against, either above or below, a starting point for something that I never envisaged in our future when we tied that knot all those years ago.
Wish me luck and I promise I'll report back.