As a carer, it’s important that you allow some time for yourself. This will benefit you when you are helping the person you care for. One small way to do this is to attend events at your local carer centre. In Croydon, a monthly Writing Group is held. Within it, carers can express themselves and develop their craft in a supportive environment. This story was inspired by one such session and shows how creativity can be an outlet for health and wellbeing.
Bertie’s the name and I’ve found my calling. I love being a bed. The thing is, I’m not just any old bed. You certainly won’t find me in DFS. Or anywhere on the high street for that matter. In fact, you may not even have to pay for me.
I’m actually a working bed who takes their career very seriously. It isn’t all fun and games like a lot of my cousins out there enjoy. There’s no ‘spring time’ for me when it comes to humans.
You probably know me better as a hospital bed. But you might not realise, we don’t all live in hospitals. Some of my siblings currently reside in a care home. Me though, I’m with a gorgeous little family in their house. I got lucky as we have a lovely intimate relationship and I feel valued. Like I’m part of the family. I’m doing some of my best work too.
I joined this family a few years ago. My first job was a very important one. Talk about hitting the ground running. Actually, my kind hit the ground and then we are locked in place as a safety measure. Running isn’t an option. Anyway, I was ready for the task ahead as this was my destiny. My lovely human had sadly developed a pressure sore so it was my responsibility to get him back in shape.
Now for those of you who don’t know about me, I will wow you with my impressive CV. My credentials will clearly demonstrate how I’m very hard working and highly skilled. Most of my cousins who aren’t in the healthcare sector - commercial beds - are, quite frankly, lazy. They just lie there all day. Then their humans lie on them. Not me. I’m not analogue like them. Can you imagine just being a static wood frame and a flat mattress? I’d get bored so quickly. When it comes to horizontal comfort, I’m the Optimus Prime of sleep time. My mechanical parts help me ‘transform’ meaning I can move up and down and adopt various other positions to meet my human’s needs. Plus, check this out, I actually breathe, too. Yes, I really do. You wouldn’t believe the size of my lungs. They take up nearly half my body. I think you guys refer to them as an ‘air mattress’. They are my super power. I’m currently set to ‘alternate’. This is where I weave my miraculous magic. By strategically holding my breath in certain parts of my lungs whilst simultaneously exhaling in other parts, and then switching over, I gently massage and alleviate my human’s body from pressure. Over time, I not only help them to get rid of any pressure sores they may have, I stop them from getting more. Your typical Bensons Bed can’t do that. The good news… you guessed it, after a few months with my support, his pressure sore is gone, and now, no additional ones have arisen. And he won’t be getting any more while I’m on duty. I’m a professional.
I know I’m doing a good job as the District Nurse doesn’t visit any more. She was an angel and was a key part in the collaboration at tackling the pressure sore. I can’t take all the credit. She did a wonderful job in treating my human. We are Team NHS.
There’s also my human’s carer. He doesn’t really like that title though. For him, he is his father’s son, and being there for his Dad is what he does. We have lots in common like that. I get such satisfaction seeing the relief in his face now we don’t have to worry about the pressure sore anymore. He is always here with us and is ever so respectful with my remote control. I know he likes me as I often hear him talking about me on the phone. He tells everyone I’m a ‘Godsend’. I’m actually from a factory but I’ll take the compliment. Yet, I do often ponder the question ‘Where do factories come from?’
Their cute little dog is my other pal. Very well behaved and loves running under me when I’m extended to my full height. It’s fantastic to have someone else around who is also four legged and made of bark.
I know you guys wonder how hard I work. It’s pretty much a 24/7 arrangement. Not that I’m complaining. You see, I’m switched on at the wall continuously. Just like you, I need to keep breathing, and those little plug pals of mine help me to do so. My human’s illness means his mobility has reduced so we do spend a lot of time together. Though, with the help of his son, we combine our efforts and he leaves me for a few hours each day to do his other key activities.
People often ask me what the hardest part of the job is. I know what they expect me to say. Such a cliché. Yet, I do understand. They imagine it must be burdensome and unpleasant when accidents happen upon me. Ha! I’m not covered in the usual material that your typical mattress is. I’m easy wipe. Either way, it isn’t a big deal. It’s all part of the job and I’m humble enough to know my purpose is to serve and helping my human through any difficultly is its own reward.
No, the hardest part of the job is ‘Dismantle Day’. I’ve only experienced it once so far. It was heartbreaking. And I saw it coming. My previous human hadn’t laid with me for about a week so I knew something was up. He too was looked after by his son who even shed a tear when the guys came to take me to my new home. I hope he is doing well after everything. I do miss those guys.
But I’m glad to be working. Been in storage is dull as well as dusty. It’s nice to have a vocation. I have been built to last. I’m proper sturdy. Did you know I even get serviced? It’s one of my favourite days. When the engineer changes my filter, I feel so fresh and rejuvenated. I even had the pipes in my lungs changed once. I imagine you would consider such a procedure to be an organ transplant. Talk about a makeover, I felt twenty years younger.
Best part of the job you ask? I love seeing my human sleeping peacefully. Makes me feel like I’m meeting my purpose. It’s comforting to be comforting. Mornings are also lovely when the curtains go back and some beautiful rays of sun beam down on me. Another aspect of the work I get a thrill from is dressing up. I have some wonderful outfits. My favourite is the green and turquoise sheet as my under garment, with the green duvet cover on top, hanging just above my knees, topped off with that lovely turquoise pillow case. I look wonderful in that matching attire and I smell gorgeous in fresh linen.
Before, I go, did you hear about ‘Power Cut Day’? The son had been fretting about what to do should such an event arise. Would I deflate? How would his Dad be able to get out of me? What would happen with sleep? Ideally, they would have had a back-up power supply but they didn’t. Luckily for them, my maker, whoever they are, planned for this as best they could. If I’m disconnected for any reason, I just hold my breathe in my lungs for as long as possible. This prevents me from deflating straight away. Fortunately, the electricity wasn’t out for long and I resumed service as normal. My human slept through the entire thing none the wiser.
Right, I better get back to it. Will soon be time for us to move to the ‘sitting up’ position so my human can enjoy his afternoon snack with the radio on. Hopefully they play that Amy Winehouse song he loves. You know the one. It’s called ‘In My Bed’.
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