Carers are the best kind of people. So why are they treated so disgracefully?

My brother’s carer had to leave, her minimum wage not enough to survive on. My brother is heartbroken. I’m furious

The Guardian,

Swimming carer

‘There is no training course in the world that can truly prepare you for becoming a carer: it’s something you either have or you don’t.’ Photograph: Gary Calton

We lost someone important to us this weekend. My mum rang me, crying from a hotel room, after Megan had said goodbye, and what a shame it was. She didn’t want to go. We didn’t want her to go either.

Megan was my younger brother’s carer. His autism and epilepsy means he needs round-the-clock assistance. Megan had split up with her boyfriend, and the minimum wage she was being paid was not enough for her to live alone – so she has to go away, to live with her parents. My brother will not understand this: he will just see that she is gone, and miss her. But we understand it. Having witnessed the work of a succession of carers while I was growing up, I not only noticed what an incredible, noble thing it is to devote your time to looking after someone more vulnerable than you, but also how little society gives a toss about it.

East Coast Truckers’ Children’s Convoy

East Coast Truckers’ Children’s Convoy

It was a stirring tribute from the great East Anglian public that made it an extra special day for the youngsters at the heart of East Coast Truckers’ children’s convoy.

From County Hall in Norwich to Lowestoft, spectators lined the roads, hung over bridges and got out of their cars to cheer and wave as the 82 gleaming trucks rumbled past amid a cacophony of klaxons.

The smiles on the children’s faces – one to each truck – showed what it meant to them to be the centre of attention for one day.

Who runs Britain? An Army of unregarded, unpaid carers.

Who runs Britain? An Army of unregarded, unpaid carers. Now it’s time we cared for them says Andrew Marr and his wife who nursed him after stroke

By Andrew Marr And Jackie Ashley

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Fighting his way back to fitness: Andrew Marr has seen his relationship with his wife Jackie Ashley change as a result of his stroke

Fighting his way back to fitness: Andrew Marr has seen his relationship with his wife Jackie Ashley change as a result of his stroke

There is a crack in everything..that’s how the light gets in. So sang Leonard Cohen on his famous song Anthem.

For us, the crack came at the beginning of the year with Andrew’s stroke. The ‘light’ was a cascade of emails, tweets and heartbreaking letters about the desperate plight of hundreds of thousands of carers in this country. And they flooded in. They still do.

Recovering from a stroke is a long-term project. Mornings become a complicated and tiring set of hurdles – stairs dive down more steeply, chair and table legs multiply, plates fly off tables on to the floor. Getting socks on one-handed is very slow without help. Opening the marmalade jar requires almost as much preparation as D-Day.

Andrew has always been independent and stubborn; Jackie’s help was vital but it has required a renegotiation in the relationship. We have both changed.

The stroke survivor needs assistance with almost everything – time-consuming physio exercises, three meals a day, driving to hospital appointments, changing shoes and doing laces. It’s toughest, of course, for the patient, but it’s tough and tiring for the carer too.

Having helped look after her elderly father before his death last year, Jackie had some idea of the pressures of caring. But neither of us had appreciated what a huge social and political problem has been quietly building up as our population ages.

One in eight adults – or more than 6.5 million people – are  carers, often struggling to keep their heads above water. Everywhere, in every suburban street, village and city centre, individuals find their lives turned upside down by the demands of caring for those they love, while keeping at least some attention focused on the world outside. It is an unregarded, forgotten army whom the state could never replace.

We ourselves are phenomenally privileged and lucky: Jackie still has her physical strength and we have enough money to pay for extra physiotherapy, which many people can’t do. We’ve been able to buy aids and gadgets. As Andrew learned to shower, dress himself and walk again, he knew that the BBC was keeping his job open for him. Jackie was also fortunate to be able to find work after taking six months out.