Don’t blame the care home angels – give them your thanks

THIS WEEK, for the first time, I steeled myself to watch the heartbreaking documentary that laid bare Dame Barbara Windsor’s long struggle with dementia and the painful realisation by her devoted husband that one day he would have no choice but to put her in a home, that one day his love and dedication would not be enough.

It reminded me of the unhappiest time of my life.

Going into a home was the one thing my independent mum dreaded. Before the crippling, cruel disease took hold, we talked about her care and she begged me never even to consider it.

So we struggled on for eight years after her diagnosis. Cleaners, gardeners and meals on wheels were arranged.

Carers came in three times a day. Notes around the house reminded her not to answer the door to strangers, to use her stick, how to use the TV remote and even which glasses to wear.

The cooker was disconnected in case she forgot to turn it off. Notes in the pockets of all her coats had her name and address on them in case, as eventually happened, she couldn’t find her way back to the house where she had lived for 50 years. But inevitably things reached breaking point.

There were several falls and she became unable to remember how to press her panic pendant, which led to more hospital admissions until the care team and social services decided she needed more, for her own safety. And we were forced to seek help.

I wept, feeling we had let her down. That the thing my late father had written in a letter read by me after his death – “Look after Mum” – was being denied. But I was wrong. The last 12 months of my mum’s life were the happiest we’d had for some time.

In her room she was surrounded by her own things and photographs of wonderful memories, especially of her beloved husband.

She had her hair set every week by the kindest lady, who understood her confusion and pain and sometimes her tears.

She enjoyed things I never thought she would, like having her nails painted and watching films in the communal TV room.

And she relaxed again, as I did too, knowing she was safe and cared for by staff who treated her with nothing but dignity and kindness, especially in her final days.

They gave us many precious moments together and I got my mum back. Her appetite returned, as did her smile, and it was due to the lovely team who slowly brought her back to us. It was not how I had imagined her life would end and it took me three months to find the right nursing home.

It wasn’t stylish like a hotel but a place where I instantly knew she would be looked after. Yes, it cost a fortune and, no, she should never have had to use her savings to pay for it after years of frugality but we will leave that for another day. Boris Johnson promised he would look at that but then Boris Johnson is the reason I write this now.

This week, after thousands of elderly residents have died of Covid-19 in care homes up and down the country, Johnson blurted out that too many homes “didn’t really follow the procedures in a way they could have”.

Other ministers were then forced to pick up the pieces of that damning statement, saying that was because no one knew what the correct procedures were, so new and unprecedented was the virus.

By then it was too late. The damage had been done and I thought of the lovely nurses and carers who looked after my mum and knew they would be devastated. So I wanted them to know I don’t blame them. They are angels.

Yes, if you want me to be harsh, it probably was up to private nursing homes to provide their own PPE. I know hundreds of them did, if and when they could get hold of any. Many could not. Nor was it their fault they were forced to take residents back into their care from hospitals – 25,000 of them – without the testing that would have ensured they knew what they were up against.

Care home staff are often poorly paid but are the salt of the earth. Some have sacrificed precious time with their own families during these last few months, moving in to look after the one million residents who rely on them.

And some have lost their lives. Now is not the time to suggest it was because of the wrong “procedures” when it was the Government that suggested in February it was “very unlikely” carehome residents would be infected.

There have been thousands of deaths in care homes, far higher than the number normally experienced – another 30,000, two-thirds of which were directly attributed to Covid 19.

Words will not bring them back. But the words of the Prime Minister have added further anguish to an already beleaguered care system.

I am glad my mum is at peace and not caught up in the pandemic. Does that sound terrible?

It does, I know, but I weep for those who fear they may never see their elderly relatives alive again.

I am one of the lucky ones, knowing that my mum’s passing was calm and peaceful and not hastened by this dreadful virus.

She would never have understood why we were waving from outside a window or, worse still, not being able to see us at all when she became too frail to be brought from her room.

That we were there with her at the end is a constant source of comfort. My heart goes out to those not afforded the same blessing.

So to all the care workers, I salute the dedication, selflessness and love you have shown during these dark days. We do not blame you. We thank you.

Words from the Prime Minister have added further anguish to an already beleaguered care system.