The Carers' Cribsheet
The conversations and intel-gathering you need to be conducting with your loved ones now
Happy Sunday, friends.
This month’s Cost of Caring letter has been partly inspired by the events of the past few days which have seen me at times just as muddled by the UK benefits system as my chronically-ill mother. It has also sprung from the many conversations I’ve had in recent times with friends as we discuss the inevitable decline our parents are either facing now, or are sure to in the not-so-far away future. Of course, sometimes there isn’t a decline. Just a hideous phone call followed by a full kitchen fridge to empty; fresh bottles of milk clinking in the door.
For context, I have a caring responsibility for my mum who lives with Bipolar Disorder and a range of (related and unrelated) chronic physical health issues, as well as her partner who has Type 2 Diabetes, depression and other health issues. I have also been co-responsible for settling my dad’s affairs following his sudden death last June. Over the past three and a half years, I’ve stood on the sidelines while my husband has managed his own father’s affairs following his sudden death in an accident. Maybe there’s a whole other post here…
What follows is the essential intel. The ‘What Now?’ of managing the difficult stuff in the face of others’ illness, accident or death. If you think that this info would benefit you, and you are not a paid subscriber yet, hit this button. I’ll try not to be too triggering…
We all know it’s easier to bury our head in the sand than to face up to the challenges that (may) lie in wait as our parents age. I know this, but I can’t help but look at my mother and father-in-law askance these days. They are both fit, well and enjoying an active retirement but I know that this can’t last forever. And though it’s not the conversation we might imagine having over Sunday lunch, I know it’s necessary. They’ve moved closer to us recently, the unspoken nub of that decision being that we are more likely to be able to support them if they’re close by. Incidentally, this move has popped them in the same postcode area as my mum… I picture many a slingshot visit to Ayrshire in my future, pit-stopping at intervals along a short stretch of coastline to maximise the efficiency of my visitations…
Living in Scotland, we are (to an extent) buffered by the NHS and the various health and social care services available, though I know this is postcode dependent. However, there is a veil of secrecy shrouding the reality of unpaid caring. We are a small nation of just under 5.4 million people, so the following stat from the Scottish Government is particularly worrisome.
In 2020, it was estimated that there were around 839,000 adult carers living in Scotland.
Older, working age females are more likely to provide unpaid care than other groups. People in the most deprived areas are more likely to provide 50 or more hours of unpaid care a week compared to people living in the least deprived areas.
Despite government help, there is no getting away from it: women especially are likely to have unpaid caring responsibilities added into the already-complicated life mix sooner or later.
So, consider this letter as a PSA, if you will. Less musing and more doing. Maybe it will encourage you to consider some steps you can take or conversations you can have with your loved ones now that will make the future easier to manage.