Okay, overly dramatic sounding title, but utterly factual.
Moving in with her is not yet appropriate nor a real option due to space limitations.
Her food intake is minimal anyway due to loss of tastebuds after chemo, so finding things to keep her somewhat nourished is a daily priority.
Before the current shitstorm, noises were made about carers on a palliative plan when the time was right, but the idea of this or even a hospice space feels like a pipe dream.
She now has a drain that District Nurses are coming in to sort out every few days (no mask wearing so far either) and I and my son are tag teaming errands to pharmacies, GPs etc. I am wearing a mask and gloves routinely. I have to go inside her flat to help her with day to day tasks that she can no longer manage. Other than swift shopping trips to the local Tesco Express which is virtually empty of shoppers, and heading the same way with stock, I am not going anywhere else nor socialising with anyone other than my DP and other members of the household. We are all taking appropriate precautions and we have no symptoms.
AIBU to think that as long as I exercise the utmost caution I should keep doing what I'm doing - it means no extra demands on HCPs until absolutely necessary and also I know exactly the level of risk and can act appropriately.
She has said if she gets it, well, she's going to die anyway, but of course her death isn't going to be easy as it is, and an added serving of CV19 would be even worse.
I really don't know if there is any other option. I rather think not.