Who is your dad’s carer?
I remember the very odd sensation when I was told I was officially a carer.
Dad had just been diagnosed with dementia. The memory nurse was filling out a form and asked me who his carer was. I didn’t quite understand the question at first. I didn’t really know what a carer was? Weren’t they those people who you heard about on the news who didn’t get paid but had massive responsibilities?
“Does your dad have a spouse or partner”, the nurse asked. Dad had been single since my mum died when I was two. He had lived alone since I left home many years ago. So that wasn’t an option.
“Do you have any brothers and sisters who can help”? Well no, I haven’t got any brothers or sisters; it had always just been me and him when I was growing up.
“I’ll put you down as his carer then” she said. I felt a strange sensation in my stomach as I sensed that there was a whole new world about to unfold for me and dad.
The transitions from child to teenager to young adult and then onto being a parent myself were all significant. Somehow this transition from son to carer felt more profound and certainly daunting.
You have to deal with the very real change to the nature of the relationship with your parent. You also have to navigate the very patchy support that is available to anyone with dementia or who cares for someone with dementia.
Dad and I are still relatively early on this journey but I have learnt the following:
1. Dementia is definitely rubbish but there can continue to be quality of life and some great moments.
2. You have to remember to be the person you were as well as being a carer. I am still dad’s son.
3. Get prepared early – sort the fundamentals with a Power of Attorney if you have elderly parents.
4. Get a routine in place and stick to it and get as much support as you can. Lean in, you’ll be surprised how much people are willing to support.
5. Recognise the emotional and physical impact it will have on you – ensure you look after yourself.
Throughout the last few years GC has been hugely supportive. The flexible approach gives me much needed opportunities to attend appointments. The ability to buy holiday enabled me to support the move.
Dementia isn’t great but a diagnosis doesn’t mean the end. There is much joy to be had and those moments together become even more precious. Dad has now moved from York to live near me. He is very active in his local church; the Salvation Army in Sale have been a huge source of help. He has paid carers and is settled. There will be difficult times ahead I know but you just have to take each period as it comes.
