Today, I'm unadapting Dad's bed, which I had to modify to stop him from falling out. I knew each screw had to be tight, as Dad was a strong man, and the thought of him falling out of bed made the nights sometimes worse than the days. The night terrors were very scary. This modification had to be done because the council departments were overwhelmed, and the options they provided eventually didn’t work for Dad.

It’s another reminder of the work I had to do to keep Dad safe. Do you let him become vulnerable while you wait weeks for the council to attend, assess, and return at a later date? I laugh now, but I spent the last six weeks sleeping right next to Dad. One night, he grabbed the bed remote and accidentally folded himself up, as if a deckchair had collapsed. I don’t know why it makes me smile now, but it scared us both to death at the time.

Later, I'm off for a cup of tea with the Caring Together group in Woodhouse, then to the doctor to talk about my well-being. It’s a much-needed break.

Thank you for your support