This week I joined Mark Gibson on ABC Breakfast to talk about being part of what’s called the sandwich generation, and let me tell you— I’d like to scrap that term entirely. Sandwiches are lovely. Caring for two groups of people with completely different needs is not. It’s trying to soothe a crying child while taking panicked calls from your dying parent. It’s joy and grief and nappies and medications and school drop-offs and chemo. All at the same time.
And it's more common than we think.
With aged care reforms on the horizon in Australia, I wanted to share four truths from the frontline of being next of kin for the three million + carers around the country. These learnings are hard-won, deeply felt, and—if you’re walking this path too—I hope, somewhat valuable.
1. Patient-led means carer-powered.
When we say the system says is patient-led, we are not mucking around. It’s patient-led, patient-driven, and patient-navigated. And when the patient is tired, unwell or not coping, the baton falls squarely into the carer’s hands. Navigating appointments, medications, specialists, paperwork, bills, transport, rehab—it’s a full-time, unpaid, emotionally fraught job. That’s why carers must be supported as part of aged care reform. Because they’re not just helping. They’re steering the ship.
2. We have a world-class system… that’s a nightmare to navigate.
Australia’s healthcare system is one of the best in the world. It’s also a labyrinth, jargon-heavy, and completely overwhelming when you’re in crisis. It’s good advice to engage with services like My Aged Care early but who is voluntarily logging into myGov or the like in their free time? Nobody. We don’t go looking for fire until we smell smoke. So when emergency strikes and we don’t know how to move through the system, things fall apart. That’s why we need education and support long before the wheels come off.
3. Nobody can sit in crisis forever.
Care is beautiful and brutal. It’s physical, emotional, social, and spiritual heavy lifting. You’re often watching someone you love suffer and powerless to fix it. The weight is enormous, which is why burnout is real and carers fall through the cracks. And it’s why we need to stop glorifying resilience and start resourcing people properly.
4. Caring for Dad changed me. Forever.
We cared for my Dad, Jack, after he was diagnosed with Mesothelioma. While he was given 6–12 months, we got 2.5 years and I will never, ever stop being grateful for that time. It was raw and excruciating and awe-inspiring and luminous all at once. It broke me wide open.
That experience is what inspired my new book, Next of Kin. It’s everything I wish I knew before stepping into the fire—and everything I learned while walking through it. It’s a warm, honest companion and a practical guide for anyone navigating care, loss, grief, or just trying to keep the wheels on at home.
If you want to take a listen to the interview, you can do that here (it’s the full show, so scrub through to 2:09 for my segment).
Next of Kin is out August 27 in all good bookstores, you can pre-order it here.
If you’ve already stepped up into the role of next of kin—or you're about to—I see you. Please know you’re doing the most important work in the world.
Big love,
Casey x