Dare I say...

…that I’m away having the most amazing time? Yes, I dare – because this blog is worthless if we’re not brave about the truth. So: I’m having a great time in Helsinki attending an international conference for carer organisations and researchers on caring. I’m meeting people, sharing ideas, building relationships, and learning loads about approaches to caring elsewhere.


It all came about because we formed an association for carers in Denmark (Carers Denmark) on Saturday. On Sunday, I dropped out of full-time caring – as you may have guessed, we applied and are now waiting for a nursing home place for Jon, but I had to admit that the waiting time was taking its toll. So now Jon’s oldest and closest friend has moved into our house and taken over as main carer until we get an offer of a nursing home place, and on Tuesday I was able fly off to join this brilliant conference.


I feel kind of guilty about feeling so good – but not guilty enough to put much of a dent in the good. It’s been almost 8 years of caring, and although there have been ups and downs, I think I can honestly say that there has not been a single day that was just easy-peasy. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret for one moment our decision a few years back that I should drop out of work and stay home to look after Jon. Although not great from a financial perspective, it felt absolutely right. It allowed me to spend time with Jon while he still enjoyed it, and it allowed me to get into the world of volunteering, which has brought me new friends and intense interests. But now Jon enjoys my company less, the care tasks have become more onerous, and I am just simply worn out by the length of time this has been going on.

It’s not that Jon is getting worse (well, he is, but slowly), it’s more that I have burned out. The best way I can explain the feeling is to compare it to leaving the house in the morning in a new pair of shoes that are just a tiny bit too tight. At first you walk along just fine, but after a bit the shoes start to bother you. You go on, perhaps limping a bit, then you develop some nasty blisters, and sooner or later you feel you just can’t take another step in those shoes. The shoes didn’t change, but your ability to wear them did. That’s how I feel about caring – and being burned out is not just bad for me, it also means that I’m not able to care with the calm kindness that I think Jon deserves.

So Jon’s wonderful, generous friend has stepped in and taken over. That is such a fantastic gift for both of us. Jon is enjoying some “man time” and loves talking about the old days – school, music, girlfriends, whatever – and I get to start rebuilding a life for myself in the certain knowledge that Jon is being cared for with competence and friendship. I hope our friend understands how much really this means to us!

The nursing home we have applied for is a lovely place with big bedsitting rooms, good common facilities, near the woods and the sea. Jon stayed there for a few days of respite care this spring and quite liked it – his main complaint was that they didn’t provide WiFi, and that can easily be remedied if he moves in. I truly believe there is a chance of a pretty decent life with him there and me visiting as often as I can for a little strolls and cream cake excursions. I’m feeling pretty positive, and I don’t think it’s entirely down to my tablets or the joys of Helsinki.

I’ll tell you more about “my” new carer association next time. It’s “mine” because I took the first initiative and was rewarded (or possibly punished) by being elected the first chairperson. There’s a to-do list as long as your arm, but there’s also a great team behind the idea, with a huge amount of energy, enthusiasm and experience. I’m sure we’ll be going places.