25/09/2025
So .. Facebook asks “what’s on your mind..”
what is on my mind is this …
I suppose it is hard to love a carer. we come home late, We miss weekend events, holidays, birthdays. We don't get too excited over a minor cough or cold, we have seen far worse. We don’t always want to talk when we come home, we have talked and had the same conversations for a couple of weeks, day in day out. We don't always want to move when we come home, we just want to relax. It may seem that we have left all of our caring, our heart, and our love at work, and have come home to you empty, we probably have. I guess it is hard to love a carer, but know this: we still need your love. We need your understanding. We need to know that you “get it". We need to be the one taken care of every once in a while. We need someone else to take charge of the details because constantly doing everything ourselves is exhausting.
We need a shoulder to cry on when we can't even tell you why we’re grieving. We need you to do the hardest work you may ever take on, which is...to love a carer
Nothing gripes me more than when someone’s refers to careworkers as “glorified ass wipers” or their naivety leads them to believe that that is all we do. Yes i deal with stuff that not everyone would want to but that is not all I do. In the past I helped a man that has lived through the war wash and dress because old age had hit him and he is unable to walk or do these things for himself because his body is ageing faster than his mind, but he is still so positive and always has a smile on his face.
I’ve helped a lady who was living her life normally but due to a stroke she now needs my assistance to complete her normal daily tasks because she is now living her life with a cruel disease that has taken over her body and left her unable to do these things for herself and has confined her to a wheelchair. I saw the pain in her eyes, the “why me?”, the frustration behind her smile and her braveness and will to live through this. I am a cleaner, a cook, a hand to hold, a friendly face, a washer, a dresser, a helper, a CARER ; today I was human.
I get paid less an hour than someone who stacks shelves in a supermarket, does this annoy me? Yes. Would I go stack shelves? No. Because nothing beats the smile I put on someone’s face, the satisfaction you get from making a small difference to someone’s life, to help them live their lives as independently as they can, the feeling of purpose.
No my job is not easy, there are days I come home and cry because of things I have to deal with, things that I cannot control and things that I cannot wave a magic wand and cure, and believe me I have a lot of those moments where I pray I could.
I have hard days but I also have amazing days. I have attended funerals of those I have helped, those who I have seen twice maybe even four times a day and I have cried at the loss of those lives, the impact that has on me is sometimes as sad as the loss of my own family, because it is hard to not become attached. But I do this job because I CARE.
So yes I may wipe asses, but that is not all I do. I am proud to be a carer and to work in this industry. So next time you think that that is all a being a Care worker means please think again.
No I do not save lives, but I sure as hell make them easier for someone to live. To all you carers out there, I salute you.
They may not remember my name but they will remember what difference I made to their lives and I will go to my grave knowing I did a job that helped others!
I would like to thank those of you out there who love us and let us do this work, this calling, this life: care work ❤️❤️❤️
🏥💊💉😊🚑
Im lucky to have support from people who love me and support me every step of the way, who "get it" and for that I am eternally greatful ❤️
