greypanther wrote: ↑Mon, 15. Nov 21, 14:00
My sincere sympathies Gavrushka. I know where you are at, my mum died from cancer in 2006, aged just 68, my dad, from cancer too, in 2000, aged just 66, cancer is horrible and it is quite worrying that one in two of us will get it...
You are right about carers too. I care for my wife full time, 24/7, doing things I really shouldn't have to for my wife. My mother in law used to work in a hospice too, which was for very, very stressful for her. She almost had a breakdown and staff turnover was high, but the last straw came when someone told her that she was just an unskilled worker ( glorified cleaner! ) and should just keep quiet. She left.
Being a carer is in fact a highly skilled and stressful job, if they are any good. There is a programme on BBC 2 tonight at 9pm about the
proffesion. I am afraid it is the second of two, with Ed Balls, but the first was interesting.
What I have taken away from it all, is that life is way too short and so many of us take way too much for granted, until it is too late.
Thank you for your kind words, and yes I can see you've twice stood in my shoes. - What a horrid disease it is, and all the more so because I can't help but think that there simply isn't enough being done to rid the world of the scourge for once and for all. - As you say, something like 3 to 4 billion people alive now are going to experience cancer firsthand in their lives. Imagine a world where every country worked together, pooling resources to consign cancer to history for once and for all.
Yes, the life of a carer is one of constant devotion, and I don't think anyone on the outside can appreciate what it means to be 'on duty' every day, every hour, with no annual holiday or weekends off. - Some carers do get a little respite, but many more feel guilty at the prospect of not being the carer, even for one day.
You are absolutely right about the degree of skill involved in caring. You become an 'expert' on the one you care for, and are often required to liaise with medical personnel, even guiding them in some instances. - I have to say, the hospice where mum stayed was amazing. I'd have floored anyone who tried to criticise the staff. - Often relatives who've done nothing to look after their terminally ill family member try and project their own guilt onto the ones who *are* doing the caring.
I will watch the episodes you've mentioned, on iPlayer, but I'm not in the right place to do it at the minute. Thanks for the heads up.
Life is too short, you're right, and other than right now could well be too late. I always made sure mum had something that made her laugh, every single day. She would often say her 'heart was full,' and her gentle smile was always there, even when she was wracked by pain. It makes me so angry when family members hold grudges against each other, often over something so trivial they forget what it was, but don't speak to each other regardless. - I think the fragility of life, and the total absence of any form of guarantee on how much time any of us have left has changed me massively.
“Man, my poor head is battered,” Ed said.
“That explains its unusual shape,” Styanar said, grinning openly now. “Although it does little to illuminate just why your jowls are so flaccid or why you have quite so many chins.”
“I…” Had she just called him fat? “I am just a different species, that’s all.”
“Well nature sure does have a sense of humour then,” Styanar said. “Shall we go inside? It’d not be a good idea for me to be spotted by others.”
