The following poem is from a collection of 41 written by me to try describing Huntington’s Disease (HD).

This is another one of my poems that could so easily be taken as applicable to caring in the generic sense.

This poem tries to convey the frustration held by many where society does not see "caring" of loved ones in the home as a job worthy of recognition. It’s sad that when our loved ones die and we no longer have a role, we not only have to cope with grief but have to start all over from scratch again.

It often means having given up careers and our own sense of identity. However, we have just had the toughest job in the world, somehow survived, but have nothing to show for it!

The following poem is from a collection of 41 written by me to try describing Huntington’s Disease (HD). This poem describes one aspect from a Carer’s view.

HD manifests itself in physical and mental deterioration over a number of years. Imagine having to look after someone with Parkinson’s; Motor Neurone and Altzheimer’s among other types of illness rolled into one.

The strains of looking after someone who is so dependant takes it’s toll on the Carer to the point of having to let them go for their own and the Carer’s safety. Sometimes the guilt is the hardest part.

Im writing this to help people and make them more aware, it can affect us or a loved one at any time.