Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts

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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Monday, September 20, 2010

Ways to honor your parent's legacy By Annette Gonzalez

Wednesday, November 18, 2009


I want to continue my family’s legacy, to honor my parents and the lives they lead. In order to do this, it is important to keep their memory alive.
Here are a few suggestions to honor your parent's legacy:
o Maintain an intergenerational link. Your children should hear stories about their grandparents and great-grandparents. They should experience the food of their ancestors. You should share pictures from the past. You should discuss how their ancestors arrived in this country
o Record an oral history of your family and provide it to your children
o Think about a saying or advice your parents once gave you and share it with your children or your family
o Carry a memento of your parent(s). This will keep your loved one close to your heart
I feel it is my responsibility, being the eldest in my family, to make sure the generational link is never severed.

http://orphanat60.blogspot.com
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Ways to release the pain of losing a loved one. by Annette Gonzalez

Sunday, November 8, 2009

When I tell people I am writing and speaking about the death of my parents, they say “how brave of you” or “you have such courage to dig down into those feelings of grief”. I don’t see myself as being brave or courageous. I had to do something to honor their memory, fill the hole in my heart, and help others who feel or have felt the same kind of grief.
I did not know that writing and/or speaking about my feelings would be such a wonderful outlet for the great depth of pain I was feeling. I grieved and still grieve over the loss of my parents. Writing about my parents when they were ill and dying and about my grief after their deaths has been therapeutic. Every time I have a memory, I write about it and immediately I experience a release from my pain. When I speak about my parents it keeps their memory alive.
I encourage anyone who has experienced the death of a loved one to journal your feelings, speak about your feelings to family or friends, and remember your loved one in some special way
http://orphanat60.blogspot.com
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Thursday, September 16, 2010

Adult Orphans



I just posted this on a forum I found early this morning, it was in response to the topic of  caregivers, who have lost both their parents, and now feel like adult orphans.



My father passed away in 1969, I was 17.  The past 4 1/2 years, I was my mom's full-time caregiver as she advanced through the stages of dementia.  She passed away the 16th of last month.  It is a peculiar feeling to no longer have at least one parent here, even one that did not define what a parent actually is because of an illness, but none the less they were still your parent, and still present.  I have spent all this time quite isolated and alone as I have cared for her.  My husband has been the only real constant help or support, but he had to be gone most of the time to work.  I had no help from brother(s), both sisters died years ago.  Now, with mom gone, and my new life, or is it my old life, is unfolding each day, I am feeling more alone then before, abandoned even by the hospice people who didn't even offer grief support counseling.  I have done, and continue to do, a lot of writing since 2006.  I have 3 blog sites I work on about caregiving, during and after it, 3 twitter accounts, a facebook, I am involved with another caregiving website, and I have my own Blog Talk Radio show on caregiving, so these things have been my "salvation" through the years of caregiving.  They help to keep my busy now too, but there is a gap, a incompleteness, a void, in my day, my moments of the day.  Their is so little offered or even written about life after caregiving.  A fish out of water?  A fish swimming up stream, against the current?  It is a struggle each day no matter how I try to define it.  Going places, doing things with my husband or others, foreign to me, hard to relax, hard to enjoy them.  In the back of my mind is always, I have to get back, have to do this, have to do that...for mom.  Hard to reprogram!  So, I continue to write, to blog to share, just like I have been doing these past years, but can't find that place in it all that really helps me enter into my new life with strength and confidence...at least not yet.
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Saturday, August 28, 2010

Traveling On The Road Called Grief

Grief, it does not happen only when a person passes away. It is an emotion that accompanies some type of loss or tragedy that has taken place or is taking place in our lives.

"I recently had a moment, where I allowed myself to look into mom’s eyes, and linger there for a minute or so. That moment opened up those feelings of grief, the loss of the person mom once was. I do not allow myself that moment very often because it is painful; however it is a release to let the tears flow even for a few minutes."    I wrote this months ago, and felt it fit into this post on grief, because that was what I was experiencing, even though mom was still with me.

As your caregivers journey takes you on this road called grief, it is important to recognize and share with others these moments.
 
On Friday, August 9th mom stopped eating.  I managed to give her a few bites of pudding, but most of the time she just shook her head no, didn't want anything.
It is Saturday, August 14.  Last Friday mom, stopped eating.  I in my desperate need to feed and nurture her, would continue to offer her some of her pudding.  I managed a few times through those days to get her to take some of it.  But most of the time she would give me a little no head shake.
With mom’s passing on 8-16-10,  grief moved into my life in full force.  I do have the assurance and joy of knowing mom is in heaven and I will see her again.  She is strong, straight, free of wrinkles, and has thick beautiful hair.  But, I miss her. 
We have her remains here in a beautiful scattering tube that was purchased so we could scatter her remains along the Ohio River, her favorite place to swim when she was young.  I go into her room and pick up the container at least once a day, and I cry and I tell her how glad I am that she is in heaven and is perfect and whole now and with dad.  But, I say, I miss you mom.  So much has happened in these days since she left, wonderful things, but on the days that I am home all day, just me and the cats (and now we have a ferret too), I feel the loneliness and emptiness all around me, so keenly aware of the absence of her presence.  I miss her.  Grief is hard to bear yes, but how worse it would be if I did not know where she was and that I will see her again.  Faith and hope, more powerful then grief.
For a season, there will be grief, mourning the loss, missing here and I will go on.  As I was told about 2 ½ years ago, when mom is gone, I will continue on without skipping a beat.  That is so.
For those who have not yet followed my journey as mom’s caregiver these past years, you can do so on my first blogsite, The Bear Hug Waltz,  http://bearhugwaltz.blogspot.com  I will not be posting to that site anymore, as the waltz has ended.   
This Monday will be two weeks since mom passed.  Some days have dragged by unmercifully, while others zipping by.  It seems like a long time ago, yet just yesterday, or maybe the day before, I was sitting here typing and I started to get up to go check on mom.   I slowly sat back down.  No, I don’t have to do that anymore.

I want to include in this blog a post I wrote called the Long Goodbye.  Quite a few people have written posts or articles titled the same.  This one is my version.



The Long Goodbye

goodbye to sewing
goodbye to tole painting
goodbye to quilting
goodbye to doing laundry
goodbye to driving
goodbye to managing money
goodbye to taking trips
goodbye to shopping
goodbye to baking
goodbye to cleaning house
goodbye to doing dishes
goodbye to sending cards
goodbye to talking on the phone
goodbye to cooking
goodbye to reading and word search puzzles
goodbye to walking alone
goodbye to getting in the tub
goodbye to making it to the bathroom during the night
goodbye to telling time
goodbye to cooking
goodbye to going out
goodbye to remembering some times and places
goodbye to remembering some family and friends
goodbye to bathing
goodbye to using the bathroom, only the potty
goodbye to knowing morning from night
goodbye to eating solids
goodbye to drinking liquids
goodbye to feeding herself
goodbye to using a straw
goodbye to dentures
goodbye to blowing her nose
goodbye to sitting in a chair or on the couch
goodbye to using the potty
goodbye to controlled body eliminations
goodbye to talking
goodbye to my name
goodbye to standing
goodbye to sitting unassisted
goodbye to being up in wheelchair for more then once a day
goodbye to always sleeping at night
goodbye to eating what I determine to be enough for her
goodbye to skin staying strong and intact.
hello mom with the twinkle in your blue eyes......

But now the twinkle is gone, at least the earthly twinkle, now a sparkle exists that I can’t wait to see!

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Saturday, August 14, 2010

My Role Has Ended

 

This is taken from Denise Brown's Book:  The Caregiving Years, Six Stages to a Meaningful Journey

 

Stage 6: The Godspeed Caregiver

My caregiving has ended.
Who are you?
Your role as caregiver ended more than two years ago. You find yourself compelled to make a difference in the lives of other caregivers. You share information readily with caregivers in the earlier stages, or you start a business dedicated to helping family caregivers, or you find a job in which you assist family caregivers. And, you treasure each relationship you have in your life, recognizing that each day, and your health, should never be taken for granted.
Your Keyword: Treasure
–Treasure your dreams;
–Treasure your challenges which led to your opportunities and new skills;
–Treasure your opportunities to share lessons learned;
–Treasure memories of your care recipient.
Your Purpose:
To implement your lessons learned from your role as caregiver, from your care recipient and from your family members and friends. During this stage, which can last as long you wish–even your lifetime–you reap the benefits of your efforts.
As a “Godspeed Caregiver”, what can you do?
1. Follow your dreams.
Make your goals your achievements.
2. Family caregivers will look to you as a mentor and leader.
Allow caregivers in earlier stages the same freedom to stumble and steady themselves that you had. All worthwhile journeys have trips and wrong turns; the journeys become meaningful as we learn from our mis-steps.
Share your experiences with expectant caregivers, freshman caregivers, entrenched caregivers and pragmatic caregivers. They can learn from you! (Many of the books, web sites, audio tapes and videos which helped you along your journey were developed by Godspeed Caregivers. !)
3. Treasure the memories you have of your care recipient.
Continue to remember your care recipient regularly through rituals, such as enjoying an ice cream cone in her honor on her birthday, or by planting trees in her name. Reading and reviewing your diary will be a great way to remember.
Of course, your best memorial to your care recipient’s memory is a life you build for yourself filled with healthy relationships, productive careers and joy and laughter.
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