The doctor told me to go home and wait for the phone call to tell us which hospital to go to.

We took Ben to Pinderfields hospital where he had an operation to close up two holes in his head. After 5 hours we were told it’d been successful. He was just 2 weeks old.

Over the next few years he had another twenty five operations along with physiotherapy and speech therapy.

When Ben was two I found out he had cerebral palsy. I thought the worst. He had a left sided weakness and his left foot was twisted. He had surgery to straighten his foot when he was four. He was in plaster for four months and so started school with his leg in a pot.

My eldest son, David, had to be independent because Ben needed so much attention. Washing, dressing, cutting up his food. We had to do everything for him. He didn’t seem to need much sleep. Most nights he wouldn’t go off until half past ten and he’d be awake at 6 the next morning - sometimes earlier. He’d want to get up and go downstairs. I felt exhausted.

At the same time my husband Bill started being ill with severe joint pain and he was losing weight. It was Rheumatoid Arthritis and eventually he had to give up his job as a car mechanic. We struggled financially. I was now a carer for two people.

At that time I  didn’t know about the help I could get through Carers Gateway, so my 12 year old son and myself struggled to turn Bill over in bed on our own. Eventually he improved but he has trouble with getting around.

I was invited to come along to Gateway. I was reluctant at first but decided to give it a try with one of their coffee mornings. There I met other carers and joined the Ace Project which helped find my job as a classroom assistant in a primary school. I’ve learned sign language and help children with special needs. Social Services provided us with a cleaner. She comes in once a week - an absolute godsend.

I discovered that sometimes you have to swallow your pride and ask for help. I did and it helped me to make so much more of my time.

He had been a policeman and an all round sportsman who kept himself very fit then he joined the Probation Service and found he was having difficulty with the simple daily things of life.  Walking, dressing and speaking.  We guessed what it was but he was finally diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 1999.

Gil was a determined man who worked very hard to stay in control and get on with his life much as before, doing everything he could to keep himself strong.  I was very proud of him and his attitude to the illness.

In October 2006 following a sudden catastrophic change in his condition whilst we were on a cruise, he was in hospital for three and a half months.  I was told that I wouldn’t be able to cope with him at home.  I was adamant that I could.

It was during this time that I had great help and support from Karen Asquith at Carers Gateway.  Her help meant such a lot and her phone calls lifted me when I was down.

In February he was home, complete with loads of equipment, wheelchair, profiling bed and carers coming in each morning to wash and dress him.  After caring for him totally on my own for years, our life changed somewhat.  I had to do absolutely everything for him by now.  24 hours a day.  Quite exhausting for a 74 year old with health problems of my own.

During that year I took him to concerts, on outings to many places including his favourite Fountains Abbey, for meals out and visiting friends and family until December 2007.

During that time I became adept at handling a 12 stone man and his wheelchair, getting him in and out of the house and car.

On January 2nd Gil was in hospital again, coming out 5 days later with an infection which did not respond to anti-biotics.  It became clear that he was very ill when after getting up during the first week for a time each day he never asked to again despite having been up and fully dressed every day up to going in to hospital.

During his last week with my daughter’s help I was able to be with him day and night and he died very peacefully on the afternoon of January 31st just 6 weeks before our 55th wedding anniversary.  He was at rest after a long and brave struggle which earned him the admiration of all who watched it.

I will always be grateful that I was able to keep him at home and care for him when his life became almost unbearable.

Toby was born early on a foggy February morning. He appeared literally five minutes after we arrived at the hospital in the early hours. It seemed to be a completely normal birth. Clearing his airways was a bit complicated but everything seemed fine.

Toby George Booth is one of the happiest little boys that you could meet. He really enjoys his life at home and at school. He attends a special school but is gradually being introduced to mainstream and now attends an infants school part time. He’s managed to pick many skills that we never thought he would. Reading, writing, and speaking languages such Polish and Urdu - not bad for a five year old.

Up to being 18 months old we had no real concerns for Toby, but by now tell tale signs were starting to appear. We knew something wasn’t quite right. He still couldn’t crawl properly, or sit sit up and a turn was developing in his legs.

We saw a specialist just before Christmas 2004. It was confirmed to us that Toby has cerebral palsy. This was a massive shock. Just weeks later we were told he had problems with his eyes too.

Friends and family were great and helped us in any way they could. We couldn’t find qualified childcare so we decided that I should give up work and become Toby’s full time carer. It was quite challenging but is very satisfying.

Toby needs help day to day help with feeding, bathing, getting dressed  toileting and he has a walking frame to help him walk. His muscle tone changes from one day to the next and sometimes he really struggles to get around. When he walks with his frame he tends to drag his feet so we’re lucky to get a week out of a pair of shoes.

Toby keeps pulling himself up and tries to walk unaided. Even though he falls flat on his face he always gets up and laughs it off. What a happy young kid - and I love being his dad and his carer.

It’s taken twenty years to realise I’m a carer or PA as I prefer to be known. My role has developed over the years as demands have increased.

Caring for my parents has just been part of everyday life for me. When I was at university my dad developed angina and Bell’s Palsy. Believe it or not he was advised to eat pigeon, which my mother actually turned into a curry. My dad’s condition has since deteriorated as he has high blood pressure and arthritis and is on constant medication. My mother too has fibromyalgia which gives her a lot of pain but she still tries to lead an independent lifestyle. I help out regularly with shopping paying bills making appointments and collecting prescriptions.

My parents came over in the 60s to start a new life and worked extremely hard. My mother had a material shop which she ran successfully for about 18 years. My father worked in a textile factory and had a cafe which he ran in the evenings. Their hard work has taken its toll.

After marriage I moved into the next street and have a beautiful baby boy. My parents dote on him and he brings them a lot of joy.

I wasn’t aware of all the help and support that was available, I just wandered into Carers Gateway by chance one day as I was strolling past. I was given lots of information including a newsletter.

Initially I thought all the courses and coffee mornings were for people who were cared for. After speaking to one of the advisers I realised it was for people like me. I was quite surprised and put my name forward for a number of courses and activities including creative writing which I love. I’ve also joined other carers for a meal out. I find it interesting meeting them and sharing information. I’m hoping to access some support for my family, but that’s something I might have to help them to accept.

But why has it taken twenty years to find out there is support available?