My husband is in a wheelchair due to a rugby injury. We’ve been together for 13 years. For many years we employed a carer for him – an invaluable, brilliant, helpful person called Cheryl. She’d been with him pretty much from the time he returned home from the spinal unit – even before I came on the scene. It wasn’t always easy, and there was quite an adjustment period whilst I got used to another woman helping ‘my man’ and being in my home every morning. But, over time, I realised the immeasurable value of having a carer. So, when Cheryl decided it was time to retire from caring we were naturally both worried. By this time, it had been 13 years since the accident. We reflected that my husband was probably as independent as he could and would ever be, so we decided not to replace Cheryl and see how we went. I suppose this was the time that I became the ‘carer’, but to me it was just doing all those little everyday things that helped him, that over time you adjust to and they become part of your routine.