Caregiver-itis
Submitted by Debbie on 2008, February 26 - 11:23.
You know how you feel yucky (can you tell I have kids?) from the flu or whatever. I don't mean a serious illness; I mean the type when everything's so hard to do and all you want is to stay in bed. You know, one of the "itises"-tonsillitis, sinusitis and the like. I figure that we caregivers get "-itises" all our own, like these:
I-donna-wanna-do-it-itis
This is when you pull your protesting body out of bed and head for the shower and coffeemaker, slowly dragging your heels. It's also when you have a pity party for yourself. Personally, I contracted it when my mom received her diagnosis. I wallowed for a bit, then shook myself and had my eureka moment. I knew I had to change my thoughts and responses.
The Cure: Love-and knowing that I want to be with my loved ones.
Not-again-itis
This is when you walk into your loved one's bathroom and realize there was an incident and you think to yourself, Danger! Danger, Will Robinson! For me, it's when my dad says his mother (long since gone) needs him and that he should go home. I say, "Okay, but we will go home tomorrow; right now let's have ice cream." Or it's when I find what used to be ice cream in a puddle on the apples in the fruit drawer of the refrigerator.
The Cure: Patience. I realize that it is me who is impatient and that Dad doesn't do this to annoy me. I find that if I take a time out, I get quality time in with my dad.
You-ate-what?-itis
This is my personal favorite. At one time or another, my dad has eaten cat food, potpourri, spaghetti noodles (not the cooked kind with sauce, but the raw-in-the-box kind) or a container of cream cheese (he thought it was yogurt) to name a few. At first I was horrified and beat myself up. How could I have failed so miserably and let my dad down? Guess what? I didn't.
The Cure: Acceptance-and making the necessary changes to the home environment. When I accept that I am doing the best I can and that I can do no more, I find I can do more.
This-is-not-what-I-signed-up-for-itis
This is the sneaky one. We all had a life plan, but along the way the plan changed. I remember going with my mom to California to see about her getting a liver transplant. First, you have to know, I am a sympathetic puker; if someone vomits near me, I am gagging. Up to this point, Mom had not had any nausea. Lucky for me, she saved it all up for the trip. After a couple of days of fairly constant vomiting, carrying baggies for her to throw up in, watching her not eat and finally just having dry heaves, I became...jaded. But so did Mom. She was a champ. I remember lunchtime on the last day of the trip. I was hungry. I suggested our having lunch and she made a face. My retort was, "Eat something so at least you have something to throw up next time." She and I were laughing so hard, she puked and I cried.
The Cure: Humor. If we laughed about our situation, we were still mother and daughter. I was irreverent, and we were boisterous and so happy to be together.
So patience, acceptance, love and humor are the antidotes for the blues for this caregiver.