Care workers in Grenaa street offer dignity amid addiction

In Fredensgade, a street in Grenaa where many residents struggle with severe alcohol addiction, social care workers Anna Toft and Cecilie Brunhøj enter homes that others avoid, reports DR.

Their workdays sometimes begin with protective gear—white coveralls, masks, gloves, and menthol plugs to block the smell. The equipment might resemble that of a cleanup crew or a farm, but their mission is different: to provide care.

When they visit, residents may have had accidents involving vomit or feces. Yet Toft and Brunhøj do not arrive with judgment. Instead, they bring coffee, clean clothes, and questions: How are you today? Would you like a cup of coffee? Do you need help with a shopping list?

Toft, 28, who has worked in Fredensgade for five years, rejects the idea that residents should be treated differently because of their struggles. “I think: I want my morning coffee. Why shouldn’t Kristian be offered his? Just because he drank beer the day before? He’s still a person,” she says.

The work is not romanticized. Success stories are rare. There is addiction, illness, and days when the two must steel themselves before knocking on a door. Often, a resident’s face reveals the kind of day ahead.

“Just by looking at their face, we know what kind of day we’re in for,” Toft says.

Brunhøj, 29, a social care assistant with over a year in Fredensgade, calls the work demanding in ways that blur professional and personal boundaries. “It requires a different kind of human perspective,” she says.

Both emphasize the importance of consistency—they are fixed assignments in Fredensgade, so residents do not face new faces daily. Trust is critical: without strong relationships, their work stalls.

“60-70 percent of our work depends on knowing them. If we don’t have a good relationship, we get nowhere,” Brunhøj says.

Proximity to residents has revealed the people behind the addiction. “It takes a lot to get close to people who might have no one close,” Toft says. In return, they gain deep conversations and rare access to residents’ lives.

Resident Knud Erik credits Toft and Brunhøj with helping him stay sober by administering antabuse twice weekly.

The work is not for everyone. There are days when they encounter situations they would never accept in their private lives. But they remain committed, finding hope in small victories: a resident taking a bath, visiting a barber, or drinking fewer beers than usual.

“We hope for change,” they say.