Tag Archives: Caregiver holiday

Losing a Sense of Myself–Who’s Responsible? Caregiver? Or Patient?

So I seem to think Chris, who is ill, has more freedom than I do as caregiver.  But surely that is an oversimplification.

After all, he is a man, who, with diabetes and severe coronary artery disease, still gets up out of bed once or twice a week and goes out to appraisals, to check how things are going on the work site.

A man who  always has and will still get breakfast if I have a morning meeting, or make himself a sandwich if I’m having lunch with friends.

Who really loves to have his coffee brought to him in bed, who wants me to sit and watch TV with him. Who in the past has enjoyed helping prepare and share meals.

And he seems to appreciate the cleaning and laundry that go with keeping a place up.  So it’s not like he’s taking advantage of me.

Alma Vaugeois, a friend and clinical counselor, talked about Chris.  Although he is very sick, he has not made illness his primary identity, she told me.

The way he has constructed his identity, including his illness but not entirely focused on it, there is a generosity in him.  That and his deep sense of humour make him strong enough to allow you to be you, she said.

This will not be every caregiver’s experience, Alma added.  Not everyone is like that.  Some people who are very controlling will not be able to give their caregivers that support.

So it’s not about Chris, this sense of losing myself to the suction of the demands of his care.  It’s more like I’m not making quite the right decisions.

That’s the issue that needs a closer examination.  Now.  Before his condition deteriorates and his needs escalate.

Yours truly

Margaret Jean.

A Caregiver’s New Year’s

Happiness is not something that occurs on its own when there are no bad things happening.  It is our ability to find joy amidst the tragic, to add colour and life to the mundane, to find meaning in maintenance.   Suzanne Clydesdale.

 Chris brought in the New Year saying the rosary.   Around twenty after twelve I woke.  Looking at the time, I turned and hugged him and said, You made it!  You made it to 2015!

People often express sympathy for me, caring for a loved one who is leaving this world.  Sympathy is not necessary.

You  see, Suzanne Clydesdale is right about finding “meaning in maintenance”.  Being able to take this journey with someone you truly care about?  Is a gift, not a burden.

Not that there aren’t problems or concerns.  But there is growth, there is recognition.  There is a new and fresh perspective.

I see how precious my own health is.  How much it needs nurturing.  How a healthy body is a key to a happy and productive long life.

I realize how forces beyond our control—genetics, environment and other external forces—can change our lives in an instant.  And that realization fills me with knowledge of the beauty and frailty of every moment of our existence.

I see how love encourages, refreshes, comforts and challenges us. How words and actions, no matter how humble, how common-place, can make an amazing difference in someone’s day.

Dying is a journey, and I am watching someone bravely advance in that journey day after day.  It is my privilege to be at his side.

If I did not want to be here, then I would need your sympathy.