Wednesday, October 20, 2010

And Mom Was Always There


 
In my crib, alone at night… wind blowing the curtains, the closet door a fright…
Thinking I was all alone, calling out in childish terror…
And mom was always there.

So many days and nights of illness, bedbound in my early years…
Always needing special care…
And mom was always there.

Traveling across the country, paper bags carried with her…
For those unpleasant moments of motion sickness…
Wish we had gone by air!
And Mom was always there.

Several deaths in the family, dad and big sis were two…
I asked, how do you go through this?
“My faith”, she said, “and you need it too”…
And Mom was always there.
Many years passed by, more then we ever imagined would…
I became her caregiver, her parent, her mom…
For over 4 years…
I was always there…

Go home now mom, it’s ok, dad is waiting for you… 
Jesus too!
Holding her hand watching her breath as her time drew near…

But mom was always here….

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Rocks And Sticks On The Path


I am upset, surprisingly and not so surprisingly very upset.  The sad thing is, the only ones who will understand why, are other caregivers, or ex-caregivers.
It appears I made a mistake at something I posted online, and it upset the individual it was directed to, which was not my intention.  The whole situation came back at me, and I broke down.
I realized the request and comment I had made was not inappropriate at all.  But because it upset the other, I became the “bad guy” so to speak.   

The understanding that people say they have is so fragmented and incomplete, even those so close to you.  Why?  Because most people don’t really know the depths and multitudes of emotions that a caregiver experiences.  These things don’t go away just like that, they linger and from time to time are ignited.  Like mine were a short time ago. 

To a caregiver, the simplest happy things given can bring a moment of joy and sunshine into their day, but most don’t see or acknowledge that in any way. 

Now, as an ex-caregiver, trying to deal with all that the years of caregiving have done to me, I also am trying to deal with the grief.  I group myself in with the Adult Orphans now, and I know there are many, but they seem to be even more in the shadows then caregivers tend to be.

I do not normally get so upset over anything the way I did today.  And I can look inside myself and know what was truly behind it.  People always ask how I am, and I say fine.  Truth is I am not fine, really, if I am to be honest.  But no one knows what to do with that answer.  They don’t know how to make it better, anymore then they did when I was a caregiver.   

There are 3 different cultures of individuals, at least that I have discovered during these past years, The Caregiver, The Ex-Caregiver, and The Adult Orphan.  All linked together, but each have individual emotions and mind-sets as well.

As always, when something bothers me I write…no one to talk to about this, and no one, other then someone in one of those three groups would “get” it and understand anyhow.

Friday, October 1, 2010

What Caregiving Taught Me By Carol O'Dell

After a decade of caring for my mother who had Parkinson’s , Alzheimer’s and heart disease, then brought her into our home the last 2+ years of her life, this is the distilled version of what caregiving taught me. I am profoundly grateful for these lessons.
  1. To stand up for myself, and caregiving will give me plenty of opportunities to do so.
  2. There is a time in life in which you sacrifice for someone you love–and a time to stop sacrificing.  
  3. It takes humor to tackle the big scary things in life, like caregiving, disease, and death.
  4. Caregiving will inevitably bring out the worst–and the best in me.
  5. Caregiving will change me, but it’s up to me to determine how.
  6. I can’t stop death.
  7. I can decide how I will live the next moment of my life. One moment at a time.
  8. My emotions are my body’s barometers. I need to listen to these cues, feel them, use them as a catalyst, but know that no one emotion will last forever.
  9. To pace myself. Burnout is very real and very dangerous.
  10. I can’t meet all the needs of another human being. I can’t take the place of my care partner’s spouse, career, friends, or health.
  11. Caregiving is about integrity. I have to choose what is right–for me–and for all the others in my life. No one person gets to be the “only one “ 
  12. When I start to give too much to caregiving, it means I’m avoiding some aspect of my own life’s journey.
  13. Caregiving  isn’t just about caregiving. It unearths every emotional weak spot I have–not to destroy me–but to give me a chance to look at, and even heal that area.
  14. I have to stop being nice and pleasing people. “They” will never be satisfied or think it’s enough. What’s best for me–truly, deeply best–is best for those around me.
  15. Learning to stand up to relatives, authority figures, to my parent or spouse, and even a disease teaches me to be brave, a quality we need.
  16. Give up perfect. Go for decent. Do more of what I’m good at–and ask for help on the rest.
  17. Don’t isolate myself. Being alone, depressed, and negative is easy. Fighting to stay in the game of life–that’s tough, but worth it.
  18. If or when my care partner needs more care than I can provide, or even dies, that doesn’t mean I’ve failed. It means I’ve done all I could and it’s time for change.
  19. You will go the distance. You will live at hospitals, stay up night after night, weep in the deepest part of your soul, question everything you’re doing…and barely come out alive. Caregiving asks, takes this from you. Through this process, you will transform. You will see who you are–the whole of you. You will survive.
  20. Choose to care-give–then do with heart and guts.
 http://www.wellsphere.com/caregiving-article/what-caregiving-taught-me/1035426
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6 Reasons a Parent's Death Is a Special Kind of Loss By Paula Spencer


The death of a mother or father can strike an adult child unexpectedly hard. Parent death brings a unique kind of grieving, whether you've been a hands-on caregiver and helper at the end of life or your parent has been living independently and well. The break in the parent-child bond can reverberate for the rest of your life.
Here are six factors that grief experts say can shape grieving over a parent's death:
1. Our parents are our "wisdom keepers." "We spend a lifetime looking to our parents for answers," says psychotherapist Sherry E. Showalter, author of Healing Heartaches: Stories of Loss and Life. They're the repositories of knowledge about our history, our upbringing, family traditions, the names of all those faces in old photos. With their passing so, too, goes the information and insight that hasn't already been transmitted or recorded.
2. Unresolved issues often follow the parent-child relationship into adulthood. The balance of the parent-child relationship shifts several times, first as we gain maturity and create our own families, and then as parents grow older and often need our support. These realities bring plenty of opportunities for misunderstanding or discord. And not all these bumps are smoothed out by the end. Differences that go unreconciled can leave a forlorn sense of unfinished business, Showalter says.
3. Parent death always feels sudden -- even when it's not. People often expect that the death of someone older or someone who's been ill for a long time will feel easier to endure because it's predictable. Yet the disappearance from your life of a figure you've known since birth is, when it finally happens, always a sudden change.
4. Decisions about rituals are up to you. "Suddenly you're the adult preparing the funeral, the viewing, the obituary, the eulogy -- there's nobody older to tell you how to manage, no one to correct you or say, 'No, that's not how you do it!'" says one woman in her 40s who lost both parents within two years. "I felt pushed to a different level of adulthood."
5. Your children lose grandparents. Many people who lose their parents talk about "grieving for what won't ever be" -- being unable to ask their parents for parenting advice, for example, or having their parents attend their children's birthday parties, graduations, and weddings. Parents may also need to help their children mourn, or they may feel a need to preserve the grandparents' legacy for their children.
6. Losing the "buffer generation" forces us to reexamine our own mortality. When a grandparent dies, there's still a whole generation between you and death. With a parent's death, your own eventual demise may feel uncomfortably nearer.

http://www.caring.com/articles/death-of-a-parent


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After Caregiving By Marc Silver

How do you adjust to life after caregiving? If the future looks bright for the family member who’s battled cancer, caregivers may sail effortlessly into the post-caregiving period. Yet many caregivers suffer from what could be called “post-caregiver letdown.” Like soldiers haunted by wartime experiences, they may have a hard time reclaiming their old identity and leaving the role of caregiver behind.
Mental health experts have identified steps to take, both during and after the months of caregiving, to ease the transition.
During the Caregiving Months
Caregivers know only too well how hard it is to find time to focus on themselves during the often intense months when a loved one is battling cancer. They face more demands on their time than ever before. According to one survey, a third of cancer caregivers spend 40 hours a week meeting the needs of the relative with cancer. They go along on doctor’s visits, pick up prescriptions, battle insurance companies, and give injections. Then there’s the load of household chores to pick up.
In this extraordinarily busy time, several strategies can be a boon to the caregiver, with both an immediate payoff and a long-term benefit.
Don’t be so quick to quit your job. Caregivers who give up a job for the duration of the cancer treatment may find it difficult to land a new position, especially if they’re older. Taking a leave of absence or scaling back on hours, if need be, may be a better tactic. Under the Family and Medical Leave Act, you may be eligible for up to 12 weeks of unpaid leave for an immediate family member, allowing you to return to your job once caregiving duties are over. 
If you choose to continue working, your job can also be a balm during the months of caregiving—a place where you know what you’re doing. As long as the patient is faring well during the treatment, there’s no reason you can’t head to the office (although you do need to be prepared for unexpected absences).
Don’t be afraid to face grim facts. If there is little hope for recovery or remission, the caregiver needs to strike a balance between denial and despair. An overwhelmed caregiver might avoid spending time with the patient. A caregiver who pretends that death is not imminent is likely to avoid meaningful interactions.
In this difficult circumstance, it’s perfectly natural to ask questions about yourself: “Will I be OK? What is life going to be like without her?” There may also be practical concerns: “Can I pay the bills? Will I be able to keep the house?” Thinking about such matters does not make you a disloyal caregiver. Talking about these issues with a therapist or a friend can be helpful.
When Caregiving Ends
Your role as a caregiver will inevitably come to an end. Some caregivers feel as if an important part of their life has vanished. Even if the patient is doing well, the caregiver may have a hard time adjusting to the new reality: Instead of being dependent on the caregiver, the patient is independent again. This change is particularly hard if the patient is your child, regardless of their age.
A former caregiver may find that their mental health is suffering. In the American Cancer Society’s National Quality of Life Survey for Caregivers, participants were asked about psychological distress. Caregivers reported levels higher than in the general population—even when the family member with cancer was doing well. The explanation: A newfound anxiety about recurrence is embedded in both the survivor and the caregiver’s psyche.
If the patient has died, guilt can weigh on caregivers. Maybe the caregiver feels he or she didn’t do enough. Or perhaps the caregiver is relieved that the family member is no longer suffering and that the difficult role of cancer caregiver is over. Such emotions can lead to a feeling of guilt. Caregivers who do resume old activities may feel disloyal to the patient’s memory.
Here are some general points to keep in mind about difficulties adjusting to life after caregiving:
Time helps. The passing of weeks and months may not heal all wounds but will help with the caregiver’s return to normalcy.
Don’t minimize your caregiving work. Caregivers may feel frustrated that they didn’t or couldn’t do enough. In fact, a caregiver’s physical presence and emotional support are invaluable. Understanding that you had an important role to play as a caregiver, and that you did it well, is a way of coming to terms with the sacrifices you may have made. You also need to tell yourself that even the best caregiver isn’t perfect—in every case, there are times when a caregiver was not able to meet all the patient’s needs.
Seek help if necessary. When guilt or grief leads to feelings of depression or hopelessness that are overwhelming, that’s cause to seek the counsel of a mental health professional who’s worked with cancer caregivers before. In less extreme circumstances, attending a support group for caregivers or confiding in a friend can be helpful. In fact, by sharing such feelings during the months of caregiving, you may be able to avoid a meltdown after caregiving is over.
Look for new challenges. One way to fill the gap in your life after caregiving ends is to tackle a new project. Some caregivers find fulfillment by launching a long-delayed home renovation. Others embrace volunteerism. A former caregiver might imagine never wanting to utter the word cancer again, but plunging into cancer activism can bring fulfillment by putting the caregiving experience to good use.
Reflect on what you’ve been through. For caregivers as well as survivors, the encounter with cancer can lead to a stage of life referred to as “the new normal”—a deeper appreciation for life and, perhaps, a shifting of priorities. In one study of breast cancer couples, both partners reported personal growth after the suffering caused by cancer.
Friends and family members may urge survivors and caregivers to look toward the future, not the past. But thinking about what you’ve been through is the only way to take stock, figure out what’s meaningful in life, and act upon that hard-won knowledge. Self-reflection is a potent weapon in the efforts to vanquish post-caregiver letdown.
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