At 16, 6ft tall and naturally ginger, I didn’t think my life could get any worse until I became the main carer for my mum and sister. I was thrown in at the deep end; juggling my new found responsibilities with studying for my A-Levels and the inevitable teenage heartache and dramas.
My younger sister Katie had just come out of hospital and was bed bound, tube fed and had very little quality of life. At the same time, my mum, Melanie, suffered her third mini stroke (TIA) and we thought we’d lose her. Alone, I took over; like Wonder Woman but with smaller tits. I cooked, cleaned, washed, ironed, fed, bathed, medicated and cared for Katie’s feeding tube, all whilst back and forth between home, the hospital and Sixth Form. I can officially say that I’m an Award Winning Carer as I won the Stroke Association’s Carer’s Award in 2007 for this particular incident.
There began my intrepid journey into the world of sole caring. It was hard, lonely, excruciatingly frustrating but at it’s core, incredibly rewarding. I began this blog in 2011, right in the midst of some tough trials and intended it to be purely a cathartic outlet for my ramblings. I’ve since become an Ambassador for the charity Carers UK which has involved speaking at length about my caring experience in Parliament, at Number 10, and on TV Radio and in newspapers. I’m lucky enough to be able use my voice in a positive way; to inspire, guide and hopefully entertain those whose experiences have been similar to mine.
I swear WAY too much and blame it on my ‘stressful situation’. Caring is one of the most trying vocations out so it’s no surprise that I often fucked up spectacularly. This blog is mainly aimed at fellow carers but I want everyone to know that it’s OK to laugh along with someone who’s been through a tough time. I want to take you on a journey through my circus of a life and impart some screwed up wisdom on the way. I also want to make you laugh because I believe that, along with love, laughter is the most important thing in the world…