The long goodbye
(No it’s not about death, nor is it a fictional thriller) Carers are more than friends, but not quite family,
Being cared for has been a series of difficult, awkward and funny situations.
(No it’s not about death, nor is it a fictional thriller) Carers are more than friends, but not quite family,
Have you ever been wheeled along with your eyes closed? Perhaps on a hospital trip, or have a childhood memory
“I was wrong.” As Mary said this, I tried not to look surprised, but I was. It’s not something she
Where else could you see someone dancing with a lizard? It’s not something I’ve ever seen before and I watch
Lying on the bed in an anti-room of the neurosciences ward, I’d felt some trepidation. Electricity and I have never
I remember as a child my image of the North was dark and cold, which was strange considering my Mum
(This is the continuation of our autobiography) See part 1 of our autobiography We lived in Creech St Michael between
Over the years I have had carers as young as 17 and some into their 60s. You would have thought
We all know the expression, “Home is where the heart is.” It expresses the idea that home is not a
“We want one with a bigger bottom next time.” As I said it, I realised it could be taken the
A year ago, Mary was in Sheffield, I was in Popham Court Nursing home on respite. The weather was scorching
(Not about health) When you spend a lot of time in bed, you get a lot of thinking time. My
(A poem by Mary Nevin) (Read the words with a hard northern ‘a’) Weighted down by leaden thoughts, Things to
Last week I was taking bets on whether I would sink or swim at Wellington swimming pool. Today I was
(A poem by Mary Nevin) A life brutally stripped, Pruned jagged and raw. Blasted by winter winds, Drenched by freezing