I cared for my dad when he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2009 for 11 short weeks; although I had "cared" for him since my mum's death in 2001, by doing his washing, ironing, cleaning and he came to us for a meal on Sunday. I had help from the local palliative care team (via my GP surgery and the local Sue Ryder hospice, they were in the main, brilliant; with the odd one or two who didn't really care, breezed in and out without doing anything, although they wrote in the diary that they had done a lot!) I made myself ill caring for him, letting my own care go by the wayside. I couldn't do it for a job, it was easy looking after my dad because I loved him, the intimate care didn't faze me, but doing it for a stranger would be different, no matter how much I got paid!
Now, my daughter is my carer and I feel so guilty sitting after the bits that I can do whilst she's still doing for me and she's in pain herself. We muddle on together, without any other outside help... for now.
Good to know
Let's talk about carers!
YorkshireJayne
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