Some time in the late 1990s, when I was in my early twenties, a much older, and now sadly departed, friend said to me, ‘You’re going to be a nurse one day’. I remember pooh-poohing the idea. I couldn’t stand the sight of bodily fluids, and the long hours didn’t appeal to me at all. Many years later, what I thought at the time to be a gross misjudgement of my character was actually an insightful prediction.

Years later, I returned from a spell in Hong Kong teaching children English as a Foreign Language (TEFL). The experience taught me many things, but most of all, I realised that I wanted the security of a career path. Arriving back in the UK and needing money, I applied for a job as a care assistant at a private care home. Intended only as a stop-gap, it was the first step on an incredible journey. The hours were long and gruelling, and the pay was chicken feed, but gradually, I realised that I had – at last – found my niche in life.

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