Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts

Monday, 10 June 2019

It could be you

With over 200 blogs on D4Dementia, some of them now 7 years old, I've decided to spend my 2019 year of blogging by re-visiting some of the topics I’ve covered previously, throwing fresh light on why they remain relevant, and updating them with some of my more recent experiences. This month, I want to look at the reality of being an unpaid family carer.

I’ve blogged for Carers Week every year since D4Dementia began, and while I was looking back at the start of D4Dementia for the blog’s 7th birthday, I revisited the two blogs I published during Carers Week 2012.

‘The carers job description’ was the more hard-hitting of the two, highlighting the relentless and exhausting aspects of being an unpaid family carer, while ‘Be inspired, be very inspired’ was the complete opposite as I talked about how amazing carers are.

While many blog posts may be reactionary and news-led, these two stand the test of time with quotes that remain as true today as they were then. I began ‘The carers job description’ by saying:
“If you had to be isolated, unsupported and fight the system, would you apply to be an unpaid carer?”
The reality of isolation, lack of support and having to fight systems every step of the way is a story I have heard countless times since - often, of course, from family carers whose loved ones have dementia, but also from numerous people in other caring roles including carers whose loved ones have different health conditions, sandwich carers and parent carers.

I’ve seen carers break down talking about the struggles they face, and asking simple questions like, “Why can’t this be easier?” and, “I have no idea what to do and no one to ask.” In a public arena, arguably one of the most powerful carer stories I have ever heard came from Sheila Wainwright, excerpts of which I shared in my 2013 blog, 'Caring for carers':
“Sheila told of the ‘Shear daily misery’ of their life, how ‘No one’ answered her questions, and that over the years ‘Many people came and went, and came and went’ but there was simply no continuity of support for her or her husband. Sheila admitted that she was, 'Planning how to end our lives before a call to the Admiral Nurse Dementia Helpline saved my life.’ Her husband eventually passed away in hospital after an agonising end to his life, with Sheila movingly recalling the actions of a nurse as her husband was finally at rest, ‘That sprig of flowers put on his chest when he died was one kindness I will never forget.’”
I went on to say in 'Caring for carers':
“It can never be acceptable that we wait until someone’s death before we show kindness to their carer who has valiantly stood by their side as, in Sheila’s words, her husband, ‘Screaming and snarled, pooed in the shower and pushed it down the drain, lost the ability to walk and talk, and went from 13 stone to just 7 stone when he passed away.’”
Sheila’s story has stayed with me ever since, and has been joined by stories from many other carers, past and present, who I’ve met in the months and years since I wrote ‘Be inspired, be very inspired’ but who that blog could easily have been written about, particularly when I said:
“There is something that touches your soul when you hear the individual stories of how people care for those they love the most.”
These personal accounts are incredibly hard-hitting, but what we all need to appreciate is that while carer’s stories shape our understanding and provide an immensely powerful narrative that we’ve seen countless times, not least in the recent BBC Panorama programmes ‘Crisis in Care – Who Cares?’ and ‘Crisis in Care – Who Pays?’, for the people living those lives they are a real, raw reality, not something to read or watch, agree with and then at best leave the issues they raise at the bottom of society’s ‘to do’ list. As I said in ‘Be inspired, be very inspired’:
“If you are caring for someone right now, don’t ever underestimate the amazing contribution you make to society. Anyone who does not recognise that has never walked in your shoes, but may well do so one day and will then see just what this unique role entails.”
As the thoughts of charities, businesses and organisations turn to carers again for Carers Week, which is themed this year around isolation, the stats are stark:
  • One in three unpaid carers (32 per cent) looking after a loved one who is older, disabled or seriously ill has felt lonely or isolated because they are uncomfortable talking to friends about their caring role. 
  • (32 per cent) say they feel socially isolated at work because of their caring responsibilities.
  • (74%) feel their caring role isn't understood or valued by their community. An unwillingness to talk about caring has for many carers created a barrier to their inclusion at work, home and in public life.
(Data from https://www.carersweek.org/media-and-updates/item/487547-carers-week-2019-launch)

Add in the human emotions that lie behind those statistics and I think we can all agree that more must be done to support carers. The problem, of course, is that those who understand what being a carer really means have been saying as much for years. When this will result in actual concrete support services that aren’t a postcode lottery remains to be seen, but those who ignore this issue do so at their peril. 

There are currently 6.5 million people in the UK who are carers. Every day another 6,000 people take on a caring responsibility and there are predicted to be 9m carers by 2037. So, to quote a famous lottery slogan: “It could be you.”

Until next time...
Beth x






You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886
Like D4Dementia on Facebook

Monday, 11 June 2018

The forgotten workforce

In all of the meetings I’ve attended about unpaid carers in the 6+ years since my own caring role for my dad ended, the most common themes have been: A) How do we identify carers? And B) How do we assess carer’s needs? The end result of the latter is generally to offer respite, somewhere along the line a leaflet (or a whole pack of leaflets) might be given, and possibly there'll be some signposting to a charity who are running a local carers group. Box ticked. Job done.

What a contrast to the paid care and support workforce, who in England need to complete the Care Certificate (which is comprised of 15 standards) and regularly update themselves in mandatory training topics such as health and safety, infection control and manual handling. In addition, all good care providers offering specialist support for people with dementia, learning disabilities and other complex conditions will provide in-depth and on-going training to support their staff. Only last month for Dementia Awareness Week, I blogged about the training and mentoring I provide to health and social care staff.

Two roles, one huge discrepancy

With this huge discrepancy in the levels of training and support provided, you might think that paid care and support workers and unpaid family carers (or you may prefer another term like ‘care partner’, ‘caregiver’ or ‘supporter’ I know from everything I’ve done to promote appropriate dementia language that words matter) have very different roles, but not so. Unpaid carers/care partners frequently undertake all of the elements of care and support that paid care and support workers do, but mostly in highly unsuitable domestic homes that are ill-equipped to support a person with high dependency needs, and with the additional and extremely complex element of the emotional ties that they have to the person who needs care and support.

An estimated 6.5 million people in the UK do this for a family member or friend who has a disability, illness, mental health problem or who needs additional help as they age. Imagine if we had 6.5 million paid care and support staff working for home care agencies, care homes and the like who had never been trained in any aspect of their role and were relying on guidance from a leaflet or their own internet research (for free online courses such as these). There would be uproar. As it is many professionals don’t receive education to the extent required for their role when theyve had training!

I know that my blog is read my numerous unpaid carers/care partners who have contacted me either looking for information or advice, or thanking me for what they have found within my 200+ posts. A few more may find my blog in the days ahead, as its UK Carers Week 2018, and whilst I’m very happy that I can provide help and support, it is a damming indictment that in 2018 there is no formal training programme for this 6.5 million strong forgotten workforce.

It seems that the discrepancies between paid and unpaid caring are considered ok because unpaid caring happens behind private front doors, and if you’ve no idea what you’re doing no one cares until a crisis occurs and you rock up at A&E.

Education – the key to remaining healthy and connected

The theme of this year’s Carers Week is how we enable carers/care partners to remain healthy and connected. For me, carer breakdown has always been a huge topic - I’ve lost count of the times I’ve said that a person with dementia is most likely to end up utilizing professional care services when immobility or incontinence leave their carer/care partner unable to cope. 

Thinking about immobility for a moment, I’m reminded of a story I was told about a lady who frequently visited a relative in a care home with her husband. Her husband had dementia, and was gradually losing his mobility. His wife was struggling to cope with supporting him to get in and out of the car – care staff spotted this one day and invited the lady to join their next manual handling training. Equipped with that knowledge, the wife was able to safely support her husband and protect her body from the common strains that can leave a carer/care partner unable to provide care and support.

Regarding incontinence, I often find myself reflecting on the film ‘Still Alice’, when Alice goes to her holiday home with her husband and is caught short trying to find the toilet. Alice and her husband are immensely distressed. From that moment, the seed that goes on to becoming urinary incontinence and potentially double incontinence is sown. Yet with some support to create an enabling environment, Alice can continue to find the toilet independently and remain continent for longer.

These are just two examples of very small, very simple interventions that can support families to do what most of us would want to do – help our loved one live a good life with dementia or any other condition that they are diagnosed with. But it’s utterly bonkers to think that any family can do that without any education or knowledge - lifelong learning, rooted in the personal experiences of former carers/care partners, for the duration of a carer/care partner’s life is essential. Even when a family member comes from a professional health or care background they often struggle, simply because care and support in a domestic home, when your shifts are 24/7, is about navigating numerous relentless difficulties without anyone to support you.

Knowledge is permanent respite from inexperience

The idea that a family carer/care partner just needs some ‘respite’ to get back on track is, I think, very insulting. Many families don’t want their loved one to go into a care home, or any other respite ‘solution’ temporarily. It’s not a ‘holiday’ for either person – just an upheaval fraught with worry, and a fear that one day the person will go into residential care and not be able to return home. I know that feeling all too well – when my dad went into hospital after we found him collapsed on the floor at home he never entered his front door again.

I’m sure that with the Carers Week theme of keeping carers/care partners healthy and connected there will be a lot of focus on areas like carer health checks, drop in clinics, social support groups and the like. But I know from my experiences with my dad that there is no substitute for knowledge. If there was, we wouldn’t set so much store by sending our children to school for the best part of 13 years of their young lives (and often far longer in higher education). And if the knowledge I’d gained as a carer/care partner was superfluous and insignificant, I wouldn’t have started this blog to share our experiences to help other families (and D4Dementia wouldn’t be so widely read).

Until next time...
Beth x







You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886
Like D4Dementia on Facebook

Monday, 14 September 2015

Remember me

My dad's legacy
Since 2012, this slide is how I have finished many a presentation at a conference or event. It's a simple philosophy, but a highly effective one at helping audiences remain grounded in the most vital aspect of any dementia-related discussion – the need to remember the person.
 
Remembering the person one of the topics of this year’s World Alzheimer’s Month (or World Dementia Month as I would prefer it to be called). For me, not a day goes by when I don't remember my dad, either through my personal reflections or through my work. I find that keeping my dad's memory alive, and helping others to learn from our experiences, is not only extremely cathartic but an amazing opportunity to help others that is really unlike anything else I could possibly do with my life.
 
I am mindful, however, that for some people whose loved ones have passed away having lived with dementia, remembering those relatives can be an acutely painful experience. We all experience dementia differently, and observe our loved ones through our own unique vision of them; for some people the pain, heartbreak and sadness is all they see and all they can remember.
 
Whilst I never deny the difficulties, sadness and heartbreak that accompanied my dad’s life with dementia - and actually frequently find that people would rather hear about those elements than the positives - it is the more positive aspects of my dad's life and care that I feel potentially offer the greatest insight, not least because despite all the awareness raising work that has happened around dementia, negative perceptions still outweigh positive ones.
 
For people whose loved ones are living with dementia now, if the positive messages don’t reach their ears and eyes, how are they to feel any hope, any sense of being able to live in the moment, and any way of appreciating how there are positive aspects to be found and enjoyed, if only you can find them and capture them, for however long they last?
 
Me and my dad
Without having those positive influences, so many families feel bereft, and often some family members will walk away from the person with the diagnosis. This leaves any remaining relatives to manage as best they can, and for the person with dementia to be condemned to feeling as though they’ve done something wrong. It’s no one’s fault that they develop dementia, but sometimes human emotions can be strangely mercurial in difficult circumstances.
 
I always feel immensely sad when I read about or talk to people who are really struggling to remember their loved one with dementia while that person is still alive. People sometimes hope distance brings closure, but if someone has been an important part of your life they can’t just be airbrushed out. Not everyone feels a natural inclination to stand by a loved one after a diagnosis of dementia, or indeed even just keep in touch, but some of those people perhaps just need a bit more support to see the difference they have the potential to make.
 
In my view, as networks, communities and societies we all have a responsibility here, because while the negative tidal wave of perceptions regarding dementia continues, it proliferates myths, intolerance and stigma, not to mention creating divisions that often wound people deeply, long after their loved one with dementia may have passed away. 
 
So, if you only do one thing this September for World Alzheimer’s Month, make it to put in that phone call, or write that letter, or make that visit, that says you haven’t forgotten a person you know who is currently living with dementia. And if you’re in the position I’m in with my dad and the person you loved is no longer here, think back, find that positive moment and tell people in your networks about it. 
 
We all have the potential to be the change we want to see, and from the smallest actions the greatest difference is often made. 
 
Until next time...
Beth x







You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886


Monday, 15 September 2014

Living with dementia as a younger person

In amongst the figures announced recently by the Alzheimer's Society on the scale and cost of dementia in the UK, the data on the numbers of younger people developing dementia was particularly notable. It is estimated that 42,325 people are now living with younger-onset (early-onset) dementia, a number considerably higher than previously thought. Given the problems younger people often have around obtaining a diagnosis it is probably safe to say that the actual figure could be even higher.

Dementia is traditionally associated with older people. That is the prevailing view amongst the general population, and in truth little has been done to dispel it. Occasionally there will be a newspaper or magazine article about an adult under 65 with dementia, and rarer still a child with dementia, but such coverage is often more sensationalist than really educational.

We know that dementia remains stigmatised generally, but if you are a younger person with dementia that stigma is likely to be far more significant. We know too that there aren't enough good quality, personalised and responsive post-diagnostic support services for people who are diagnosed with dementia - again, if you are a younger person that dearth of support is potentially even greater. 

It is well documented that carers of loved ones with dementia generally don't have anywhere near enough support to carry out their caring role. However, that situation can even more acute if your loved one is younger and your family is plunged into a completely different type of crisis around jobs, housing and the care of under-age children. It is also worth noting that dementia in younger people often progresses quicker than for older people. That isn't always the case, and many younger people live well with dementia for many years, but such wellbeing is usually in spite of rather than because of the level of support and care that they are offered from their local health and social care systems.

Issues around the progression of dementia are challenging enough, but adding in the potential requirement for residential care makes the picture even more complex. Many families find it difficult, if not impossible, to source a high quality care home that specialises in caring for younger people who are living with dementia. Mostly the only option is aged care, where a person in their 50's could be living with people in their 80's and 90's with very little in common in terms of hobbies and outlook.

Combine the factors of increased stigma, inadequate post-diagnostic support, challenges for family carers, likely progression of younger-onset dementia, and the lack of specialist residential care together and there is absolutely no doubt that if you are a younger person who is living with dementia you are facing numerous obstacles to living well. Even many of the therapeutic products that have been developed to help individuals who are living with dementia are based on reminiscence of eras that will mean little to younger people.

There are numerous societal pressures too. Because most individuals don't understand that younger people can develop dementia, if you are a younger person with dementia you face being disbelieved when you disclose your diagnosis. You may well become more isolated because friends of the same age cannot comprehend your diagnosis, and if you are working and find that your employment ends you can face huge financial pressures around paying your mortgage etc.

Your local services, if you have any, are generally aimed at older people (be they day centres, singing groups or dementia cafes), although there are some notable exceptions which I will cover at the end of this blog. Vital connections into peer support and international mentoring are often not made at the point of diagnosis, and so isolation is further compounded, added to by difficulties in travelling if your driving licence is taken away.

To say that the UK is badly failing younger people with dementia is something of an understatement. Why this group of people have been ignored for so long is, I suspect, due to that prevailing societal view that dementia only affects older people. If that is the case, then these latest figures should be a big wake-up call to our politicians and policy makers. Whilst specialist services may not be cheap, the cost of providing nothing is far greater, both for the health service and for every single family affected by younger-onset dementia.

Whilst the powers that be mull over that prospect, I couldn’t write a blog post about younger-onset dementia without mentioning some of the inspirational individuals and organisations who are leading the way for younger people with dementia. In their own way each challenges the stigma and discrimination faced by younger people with dementia, and together they form a powerful, collective voice. I hope that through them not only will society learn more about living with dementia generally, but that the particular needs of younger people living with dementia become better understood and more comprehensively addressed.

For anyone who is UK-based, there are a huge amount of resources on the Young Dementia UK website, including a regional breakdown of specialist support services for younger people who are living with dementia: http://www.youngdementiauk.org/support-across-uk. Young Dementia UK also have a list of blogs written by people who are living with younger-onset dementia, including Kate Swaffer and Chris Roberts, two very active campaigners for the rights of younger people who are living with dementia: http://www.youngdementiauk.org/blogs.

Although not exclusively working in the field of younger-onset dementia, I would also recommend checking out Dementia Alliance International, and the work of Norman McNamara, Innovations in Dementia and Dementia Mentors.

Until next time...
Beth x







You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

Sunday, 15 June 2014

Carer's questions - How do I look after myself?

Welcome to the last of my seven ‘mini’ blogs for UK Carers Week 2014.

As regular readers of this blog know, I cared for my father for 19 years during his vascular dementia. For the majority of that time, however, I never considered myself a carer - just a daughter looking after her dad. As I said in my G8 Dementia Summit film, "You become a carer, but you don't realise you've become a carer."


For UK Carers Week 2014, I want to focus on questions carers often ask me, and indeed many questions I frequently asked myself during my father’s dementia. 


Day 7 - How do I look after myself?

Most carers are great at caring for others, but less good at caring for themselves. In my case once a carer, always a carer – I’m still much better at looking after others than I am myself. Sadly I no longer have my dad to care for, but my love and dedication towards him is now focused on the rest of my family, sometimes to my own detriment.

I have no excuses though – I should be able to recognize when I need to give myself some TLC. However, in the pressure cooker of caring, with its intensity and all-consuming nature, carers are renowned for being terrible at spotting when they need help themselves, sometimes leading to severe consequences for their health.

I remember many people saying to me when my dad was alive and I was trying to juggle 10 different tasks at once that I needed to take some time out for me. Switching off is actually extremely difficult though, and knowing we were always just a matter of hours from dad being intensely poorly (infections always hit him fast and hard) made any concerns I had for myself pale into insignificance. Carers are always reminded that if you are poorly your loved one will suffer too, but whilst that’s great advice the practical application is much more difficult. 

As more carers try to juggle multiple responsibilities, and are perhaps caring for more than one family member or friend, they are likely to think even less about themselves. The toll on their health can be huge, and can lead to the carer needing care, particularly if they are an older person or have other long-term health problems. Your GP practice can advise on a carer’s health assessment – remember, taking care of YOU is important too.
 


Further reading:

D4Dementia: 'Caring for carers'
External links: 
Dementia Action Alliance Carers' Call to Action: http://www.dementiaaction.org.uk/carers
Carers Trust: http://www.carers.org/
Until next time...
Beth x







You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

Saturday, 14 June 2014

Carer's questions - Is this normal?

Welcome to the sixth of my seven ‘mini’ blogs for UK Carers Week 2014.

As regular readers of this blog know, I cared for my father for 19 years during his vascular dementia. For the majority of that time, however, I never considered myself a carer - just a daughter looking after her dad. As I said in my G8 Dementia Summit film, "You become a carer, but you don't realise you've become a carer."


For UK Carers Week 2014, I want to focus on questions carers often ask me, and indeed many questions I frequently asked myself during my father’s dementia. 


Day 6 - Is this normal?

As a carer with no medical background whatsoever, I found that one of the biggest challenges in caring for my dad was understanding what was happening to him during his dementia. I suspect that anyone who is caring for a person with complex cognitive problems is destined in some regard to struggle – even professionals can find it hugely difficult. In fact, taking that into account just imagine what it's like to actually be the person LIVING with dementia.

When you are a carer and your loved one cannot communicate easily or respond to you in ways you expect, finding an understanding between you both can be a steep learning curve. I managed to find other techniques beyond traditional speech to communicate with my dad (read my blog about expression), and in fine-tuning those it has hopefully made me a far more intuitive person. Finding the subtleties, sensitivities and sometimes tiny movements that indicate the communication of a particular message from your loved one isn’t easy though.

Whenever you are going through a rough patch, and encountering actions or situations that you find difficult to cope with, it’s inevitable to wonder if they are ‘normal’. Defining normal is almost impossible, since one person’s normal is another person’s abnormal (or indeed somewhere in between). Over time you do get a sense of what is your loved one’s normal, but that takes patience and involves trial and error.

No person is a behaviour, and whatever you are going through with your loved one underneath those immediate concerns is still the person. It’s easy to lose sight of that sometimes, and indeed overly stress about changes that we don’t consider ‘normal’. Trust your instincts; if you feel something is wrong seek help, but at the same time consider what you are really experiencing – the progression of dementia is such that either temporary or permanent changes in a person may be within what is their ‘new’ normal.

D4Dementia blog posts that I frequently signpost dementia carers to:


Communication: 'Talking the talk'


Aggression: 'Understanding aggression'

Swearing: 'Turning the air blue'

Disorientation/confusion/frustration/paranoia: 'Day-to-day with dementia'

Hallucinations: 'Another world'
 
Further reading:

D4Dementia: 'Caring for carers'

External links: 
Dementia Action Alliance Carers' Call to Action: http://www.dementiaaction.org.uk/carers


Carers Trust: http://www.carers.org/

Next post on 15 June 2014.
Until then...

Beth x







You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

Friday, 13 June 2014

Carer's questions - Does everyone feel that they can’t cope?

Welcome to the fifth of my seven ‘mini’ blogs for UK Carers Week 2014.

As regular readers of this blog know, I cared for my father for 19 years during his vascular dementia. For the majority of that time, however, I never considered myself a carer - just a daughter looking after her dad. As I said in my G8 Dementia Summit film, "You become a carer, but you don't realise you've become a carer."


For UK Carers Week 2014, I want to focus on questions carers often ask me, and indeed many questions I frequently asked myself during my father’s dementia. 


Day 5 - Does everyone feel that they can't cope?

Possibly not everyone, but certainly most carers feel like this during their caring role and often feel like it frequently. I personally don’t ever recall meeting a carer who at some point didn’t feel that they weren’t coping, and that includes carers from many different backgrounds. 

In my father’s 19 years with vascular dementia I struggled when big decisions had to be made, mostly health-related, or when we were waiting on the decisions of others, usually healthcare professionals. The absolute worst times, however, were when dad was seriously ill in hospital – as a carer you feel helpless and often very excluded from what is happening to your loved one. In those times I honestly wondered how we would get through it – the fear of losing dad was huge and so very real.

It’s easy to believe that you are the only person feeling like this. When my dad was alive I wasn’t involved in the online ‘carer community’ at all, but having become connected to it through my work
 I can see how valuable it is. A huge number of carers contact me through social media seeking advice, and I’m always very happy to help where I can. I also regularly look at the #dementiachallengers hashtag on twitter - it's a place where anyone and everyone can come together to talk about dementia.

One of the most powerful testimonies of the power of social media for carers comes from the wonderful Sally who tweets as @nursemaiden. She engaged with twitter in the last hours of her father’s life, looking for reassurance with the palliative care that she and her mum were providing. Why you might ask? Simply because twitter offered her instant and informed advice thanks to the huge number of experienced professionals on the site.

A small plea from me though – for all that is great online, and there is a huge amount, we must never forget people who aren’t online. Having a computer and broadband (plus someone to teach you) isn’t an option for everyone due to cost, preference or other associated reasons. It is those people who are possibly feeling like they can’t cope most of all – another great reason why we should all look out for our neighbours and friends more, and signpost to helplines and printed materials.
 
 


Further reading:

D4Dementia: 'Caring for carers'
External links: 
Carers Trust: http://www.carers.org/
Next post on 14 June 2014.
Until then...

Beth x







You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886