Last week was Carers Week, and as a politician who is a carer myself, I found myself reflecting on the people I have met over the years who have quietly devoted their lives to looking after others.
After all these years, one particular case remains vividly etched in my memory.
It was during my first term as a Member of the Scottish Parliament (making it around the year 2000). One dark and windy evening, I was holding an advice surgery in Thurso. A steady stream of constituents had come through the door and, towards the end of the evening, a gentleman came in to see me.
He was not an old man, but neither was he in his first youth.
“It’s about my mother,” he began. “She’s a widow. I’m an only child. She lives with me and I look after her.”
He paused.
“She’s bedridden and, I’m afraid to say, incontinent. She looked after me when I was a young boy and now I look after her.”
At this point, the poor man broke down in tears.
As the story emerged, I began to understand the burden he was carrying alone.
The NHS or social work department – I now cannot remember which – had been supplying him with adult incontinence products on a regular basis, nappies if you will. He had managed perfectly well until a decision had been taken to reduce the number provided.
“I can’t cope,” he told me. “She can’t manage on that amount. I’m constantly changing her nighties and her bed linen. I’m not as young as I was and I can’t keep on top of it. I have no help. I just can’t cope anymore.”
I felt deeply sad for him. Then a swelling outrage that someone on high, some decision maker had – at the flick of a pen – happened to make this poor man’s life a sheer misery. I reassured him that I would look into what I could do for him. The next day, I went into my constituency office.
I assured him that I would do what I could for him.
The next morning, I discussed the case with my colleague. We made representations on his behalf and, in the end, common sense prevailed. The additional products were reinstated.
You might say there isn’t much to this – except for the fact that the cost of 2-3 nappies a day were mere pennies then. And yet, small as this way, it was another straw breaking a carer’s back, if you will.
That is why I have never forgotten the case.
I tell this story because it shows how small details in the scheme of things can be very big indeed to a carer. It also shows how carers can feel very much alone and sometimes helpless.
A quarter of a century has passed since that evening in Thurso. I would like to think things have improved. Technology has advanced, services have changed and there is greater recognition of the role carers play. Yet many carers still tell me that they struggle to access support, respite and the practical help they need.
Some years after our first meeting, the same gentleman came to see me at another surgery.
He thanked me for helping him. I pointed out that my colleague had done most of the hard work and that she deserved the credit. He smiled and asked me to pass on his gratitude.
As he was leaving, he told me that his mother had passed away peacefully.
Quite shortly afterwards, I found out that this man had himself left this world.
It is remarkable how certain pieces of casework stay with you. Twenty-five years later, I still think about that gentleman and his mother. In many ways, they remain a quiet reminder of why carers matter so much.
As I go about my work today, they remind me that behind every policy decision, every budget line and every Government announcement, there are real people trying to do their best for those they love.
We hear a great deal about what is wrong in the world. We read stories of conflict, division and selfishness. Far less attention is paid to the extraordinary acts of devotion that take place every day in homes everywhere.
Carers rarely ask for recognition. They simply get on with the job because someone depends on them.
We should remember that our carers are among the quiet heroes of our communities. Their compassion, patience and selflessness deserve not only our gratitude, but our support as well.
Jamie Stone is the Liberal Democrat MP for Caithness, Sutherland and Easter Ross and the chair of the House of Commons Petitions Committee.
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