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I usually work in the creative industries but for now, due to work being cancelled, delayed and postponed I’m working as a carer, again (as I sometimes do to supplement my income) looking after people living with dementia.

The preservation of life is paramount.

When I first started working in care, I briefly did it full-time and realised that I had joined the ranks of the working poor. I was steadily going into debt even though I had full-time employment. I think I was clearing about £270 a week.

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I’m used to working in stressful situations with vulnerable and sometimes difficult residents, but add a life-threatening virus to the mix and the work has become dangerous and toxic.

In the care home where I work mostly, the manager asked if one of us would go to work in another home – with a confirmed and another suspected case of Covid-19 – as they were short staffed. I volunteered to go.

Apparently this particular home was short staffed because some of the permanent staff there were off sick (possibly self-isolating) and agency staff – on hearing about the confirmed case of the virus – refused to go there.

Normally when you arrive at a new care home there is an induction to it given by a team leader. When I arrived at this care home there was a palpable sense of anxiety and stress; I came with my own. My fear is not for my own health – I’m approaching sixty and healthy – but that I might inadvertently pass something on to a resident or co-worker. I was thrown in at the deep end and set to work straight away to shower a resident. I was provided with no information about her and given no induction. It made me feel a little uneasy, to say the least.

In a home like this, with vulnerable residents and a risk of cross contamination, I expected that I might be issued with appropriate PPE. None was given apart from the gloves and aprons which we use as a matter of course, in normal times. None of us are certain if this is sufficient to protect us and this is part of the problem. Staff are anxious and yet no one in charge seems to be fully aware of how to keep staff and residents safe. No one can say with certainty that plastic gloves and aprons will be effective in a home with the virus.

As it happens I wasn’t working directly in the unit with the patients affected by Covid-19. But residents from that unit were wandering around the home. It seemed like madness to allow this to happen. I immediately brought it to the attention of the manager and steps were taken to curtail people’s movements – with some success.

Along with all of this extra anxiety, there is the daily routine of looking after the residents and assisting them with their basic daily needs; dressing, washing, feeding etc.

A lot of the time I really enjoy the work I do. I have a naturalIy caring disposition and I get great satisfaction a lot of the time. But the work is also routine – and a drudge, at times. I often wonder if people understand what being a carer is like, what sorts of things we have to do. I can give you an idea from some of my recent experience of being on the coal face.

The shift is 12.5 hours long. We get two half hour breaks and are paid for one. So effectively we take a break on our own time.

One resident I have looked after spends most of his time in bed. I was told that he frequently defecates in it and then refuses to wash. We wash, clean and dress him. The other day my co-worker and I were summoned to his room by an alarm. He was in the bathroom. He had defecated in his trousers, taken them off, thrown them on the floor, sat on the toilet and smeared the seat, his legs and his bottom. We had to wash him, clean him up and dress him. I offered to shower him. His response was to round on us and abuse us, viciously. And then we have to provide him with food and sustenance, still answer the bell when he calls or shouts through the door. That

takes a great deal of self-control.

I don’t deal with him on a daily basis, but someone does. It’s threatening and possibly dangerous.

I went to his room later as I heard him roaring and when I asked him what the matter was he told me that he was having a heart attack and thought he was dying. I didn’t think this was the case but I got the team leader to check. She told me that it was just his behaviour and didn’t I see it in his notes. I wonder when she thought I’d had a chance to read them.

It isn’t all doom and gloom. Colleagues can be kind, funny and caring.

At the end of my shift, my two colleagues finished for the day and I – an agency carer – was left on my own, in charge of two units. The team leader came in to ask that I assist one of the residents with drinking and eventually to get him to bed. I suggested it might be better that the night staff did it as they knew him better; I was told that they had a medicine round to do. So I was left alone.

I eventually left the home at about 8.30/8.45pm, exhausted, drained and angry.There are many problems with the system, but mostly people do a good job despite the circumstances. Generally, the work is not valued; the workers (mostly women) are seen as “unskilled”. Nothing could be further from the truth.I don’t think all carers are saints but I’ve seen the greatest acts of kindness carried out by carers on a regular basis. In my experience, their advice is not often listened to, and opinions are not often solicited.

Witnessing sloppy practice at a time like this is really difficult to deal with, as the consequences now could be literally life-threatening.

A friend was horrified to hear I am paid £9.91/hour; less than her 20-year-old student son earns stacking shelves at M&S. If I was walking dogs for a living I’d be earning more than I am now.

Why are we willing to pay more to those who look after people’s pets, than to those who care for the most vulnerable in our society?

At a time when the efforts of the NHS and care workers are being praised it’s time for the government to put its money where its mouth is, and pay carers a decent living wage.

Your thanks or clapping won’t pay anyone’s rent, mortgages or bills but if you show us the respect we’re due and pay us a decent wage – that will.

'It’s time for the government to put its money where its mouth is' - This is the diary of a frontline care worker