Way back
when, a few months ago when things on the horizon looked very different, I
booked myself on to a conference in London. A couple of nights in the big city
and a leisurely chance to catch up with extended family and old mates and see some
exhibitions, what could be nicer?
Now I’m
wondering what the hell I’m doing but I’ve decided to go anyway, as it’s the
Carers UK annual general meeting and it feels like an important thing to to –
meet other carers and in particular, survey the political landscape.
Amidst the
chaos of Brexit negotiations, NHS breakdown and Universal Credit, it’s clear
that social care will be stretched more than ever.
The
government say that £62.50 a week Carers’ Allowance is perfectly adequate and
their purse is now closed. Yet the percentage of people being looked after by
family and friends is growing all the time and I fear for the future. I think
it will be interesting to plug in to what other carers are saying and what kind of solidarity we have
together.
Of course going
away means getting everything shipshape for Nick beforehand.
He’ll have
the carers coming in from Acme but though sweet and reasonably efficient, they
miss a lot of things and they’re only there for three 20 minute calls a day
anyway. So me going away means doing all the shopping, getting to the bottom of
the washing basket, stocking up on boxes of wine and hiding them (my husband
knows where and will visit while I’m away) making sure the timers are working
on the TV and radio (Nick pulled them all out on the first night of use)
organizing bill payments and appointments for next week and blah blah blah, all
the usual endless admin – just for two days!
It’s crazy.
My own house, I’ve just left in a shambles. The boys won’t notice.
The trip
itself has turned into one big juggle and a squeeze as I seem to be incapable
of relaxing enough to just stay with one person and spend time with them – of
course not! There is rarely a chance to get away these days so I try to cram it
all in, seven people lined up to see over two and a half days as well as the
conference, and I’m hoping to sneak in some art too.
I think
this is all part of the carer’s mentality – you forget what it’s like to linger
and pause, unless it’s out of sheer exhaustion. So you just cram it all in
while you have the energy and try to keep all those spinning plates in the air.
I'm not at all sure that it's healthy. But it's what you do.
The other
carers who make it to the conference will have had to prepare and juggle things
in their own lives in order to get there, under who knows what impossible
circumstances.
It will be interesting to meet other people in the same boat –
and I’m quite sure, people who will make me feel as if my life with Nick is a
doddle in comparison. I’m looking forward to learning how they do it.
But anyway,
at the moment just the prospect of sitting on the train on my own with a book
feels like the most delightful luxury.
