Introducing Me.

If you hadn't already guessed, (or been bribed by me to read this shit) I'm Amy. I've started this blog with the intention of changing the public perception of carers; although it may end up just being a selfish, cathartic outlet for my wine fuelled ramblings about how terrible it is being a carer and how I have to justify the amount I drink to get through it. Carers aren't all boring, moaning bastards who go to the corner shop in their slippers and claim they 'don't have time for a shower'. Well, I can only speak for myself... A lot of us make light of all the horrendous struggles that have befallen us. I mean, there is a funny side to waking up at 7am to find little lumps of shit on the stairs and your mum shouting tentatively from the toilet ''Help...I didn't feel it come out. I have had a stroke!'' You pull on a pair of marigolds, pick up the surprises and laugh about how many hits you'd get if this were on Youtube.

This is my mum. Hot stuff isn't she? You'd never know she's had a stroke and shits herself at least once a month:

So back to me. I'm 6ft and naturally ginger; I didn't think my life could get any worse until I became the main carer for my mum and sister when I was just 16. Studying for my A Levels (Literature, German and English Language, hold the applause) I was thrown in at the deep end. The kind of deep end you're only comfortable in wearing scuba gear. My little sister Katie (below - looks like butter wouldn't melt but in the coming posts you'll see what a sneaky little a-hole she can be. I still love her immensley though!) had just come out of hospital and was bed bound, tube fed and had very little quality of life.

My mum suffered her third mini stroke (TIA) and we thought we'd lose her. By 'we' I mean me. My grandparents had fucked off on a mini break and I haven't seen my poor excuse for a father since I was 2. So I took over, like Wonder Woman but with smaller tits. I cooked, cleaned, washed, ironed, fed, bathed, medicated and aspirated Katie's NG tube (you draw stomach fluid through a syringe to make sure it's in the stomach and not the lung. Heavy.) all whilst back and forth between home, the hospital and Sixth Form. So that's the rough outline. I can officially say that I'm an Award Winning Carer as I won the Stroke Association's Carer's Award in 2007 for this particular incident. Power to me, I think so! I also model on the side. Here's proof:

More on that soon. Check back for more hilarity and tales of my scrapes. I'll also be posting useful links and tips for carers so don't just bog off, I'm worth your while I swear.

Love,
Amy x