We Care A Lot

I don’t have a ‘carer’ as such. Not in the traditional sense anyway.

Many of us do. Many of us are unable to work, unable to dress ourselves, unable to ‘be’ without the help of another.

I have a full time job, and am physically fit and healthy enough (the majority of the time) to do pretty much everything for myself. I’m very lucky. I still have a chronic illness though. So at times I need to be cared for. Whether I like it or not, and I usually don’t like it one iota. 

I value my independence massively and when I am too unwell to do even the most basic of tasks and am forced to rely on people around me to pick up my slack, it grates. Big time.

My own ‘carers’ are wide and varied. 

My friends, my family, my love. 

They are self-appointed in this role, and like the superheroes they are they simply don their capes and fly into action whenever they are required. Thankfully they only wear their pants outside their tights indoors and for my own personal LOL’s. This care they offer me comes in what they do for me, both physically and mentally. They help me walk when I falter through pain, they hold my hair back when I’m sick, they make me eat when I don’t want to, they make me laugh when I think I never will, and they remind me life is worth living when I can’t see it for myself. They do all of this with such precision and ninja-like stealth that I’m sometimes sure there is some sort of co-ordination going on behind the scenes.

It’s often such a whirlwind from me being well to being the polar opposite that neither of us really notices we have fallen into the roles of patient and carer. But we do. It seems it’s all effortless on their part. We know it’s far from it.

They make me feel that I am worthy of love and care and that my illness is never a burden, although at my lowest ebb I usually feel like that excess baggage you have to pay over the odds just to get on the plane with you when you didn't really want to bring it in the first place or even go on this stupid holiday I don't know why we cant just go to the caravan its such a waste of money and the waiiiiiiting at the airport don't even get me started…OH MY GOD….

Caring for someone else isn’t easy. It’s exhausting, and a job that generally goes unappreciated or even unnoticed. That isn’t because we don’t appreciate you, or don’t notice what you do; it’s just that it’s normally after the event that we begin to realise what you’ve been doing for us. 

We are ill and miserable and require ‘care’ in the moment – we are generally too concerned with managing pain and sleeping and drifting into drug-induced oblivion to thank you for all you do.

So here I am, thanking you for all you do.  

We appreciate you! Please know that! 

I know we are difficult, and tiring and absolute NIGHTMARES from time to time, but we love you and are always incredibly grateful for your time and attention.  We care for you too. Always. Pants inside or outside your tights, you are my heroes.