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Carers who care for loved ones. Not a job for the fainthearted.

When I decided to grab hold of the grieving process with both hands and mourn the loss of my eyesight wholesale, I tried to get my husband, Mark, to come along for the ride. But, the truth was that, although he was going to be there to love and support me and catch me when I fell, which he did plenty, it was a journey that I had to take alone. But, and boy is this a big but, it would now appear that although he did not need to join me on my journey, he did need to have one of his very own.

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Who is caring for the carers?

My delicate little ego may try to prevent me from facing up to the fact that Mark is my carer, but it is true. It is what it is. He is my carer, and a damn marvellous one at that. It is a mighty stressful and demanding job and, although there is nothing I can do about it, I do see the toll it takes on him and, if he is not careful, the role of carer could simply consume him.

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Husbands, wives, partners, carers and independence

I know it is just a word, but 'carer' is not one that I ever use to describe my husband, but in reality it is what he is. No matter how much I fight for every morsel of independence, there are some things that I just can’t do and he does them for me. On a practical level, it’s pretty straightforward, but Mark’s recent bout with cancer has provided yet another stark realisation.

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