Ursula grew up in ST Mary's Hospital, Baldoyle and moved to residential care when she was 18 years old.
"At first I was in a room of five other women, one of whom was 73 years old. Things have change dramatically since I first went there. The rule then was that if you needed assistance you had to go to bed a 4.30 p.m. as a female. I found it most daunting to spend long evenings with elderly women.
"After a while, I got my own room in the institution and my partner shared it with me. This was never questioned and I am pretty pleased about that. It WAS very small, but quite fun really. It allowed us to see if we could manage. Without sounding too simplistic, Jim is like the arms and the legs of our relationship and I work out the rest, We both absolutely need each other to be the very best that we can be.
"We were on the Dublin Corporation housing list for years and I don't think we ever moved up a point . this is because it was worked out by the square feet you have, plus the toilet facilities available. Even though my room was tiny, right outside was a row of toilets, so we hadn't a chance.
"We decided we'd have to buy our own place. I was adamant I needed to be able to wheel to work in the Department of Agriculture in Kildare Street.
"I am not sure if me and Jimmy would be still together if I hadn't got out and got a PA. He still helps when I don't have a PA. It is important to me that he doesn't feel overwhelmed, feel that he couldn't get away. I encourage him to tell me if it is really pissing him off, or if our living together is less than what he hoped it would be. Recently we got a hoist. I miss the personal touch of Jim lifting me, even if it was just up and over and into the chair. All those lifts in a day were quite nice. But I wouldn't give the hoist back now.
Independent living has taught me that trivial things don't matter. I have exactly what everyone else has. I am no different in that respect. It just means that I am contributing to the taxman and that fells good. It feels good to be part of everything. I have never thought of going back.