I am extremely lucky that I have my husband to be my carer. He does just about everything in the house from shopping and cooking to washing and ironing. And I admit I don't always show how much I appreciate him.
He also helps me in everyday living. On the really bad days he has to help me dress, shower, get me where I need to be in fact everything a carer has to do. I feel pretty guilty about it and that adds to depression.
Before I became ill in 2000 I was a Guide Leader who loved hiking, camping and doing activities with the girls in the unit. I also had a full time job, was doing evening classes, swimming several times a week, was a wife and mum to two daughters. Quite a responsibility but I was happy. Then over night everything changed, litterally.
Our house here in France is home to my husband and me as well as our younger daughter, her French partner, her two children and baby. It is wonderful having them close by as we are there for each other. Because she speaks such good French and her partner is French we do call on them to help us at times.
The house we chose had 6 bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen/diner and lounge. My husband and I live on the ground floor with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and lounge. Upstairs they have made two of the five bedrooms into a lounge and kitchen and they have the preexisting bathroom as well as three bedrooms.
We needed work done on the house such as electrical work which our daughter's partner is doing as he is an electrician by trade and he speaks excellent English. An English buider was recommended by our estate agent and he and his team converted the old bathroom into a wet room for me and enlarged the bedroom.