State of the Caregiver Address
Submitted by Debbie on 2008, April 16 - 13:14.
Crisis averted! We have stepped down from Threat Level Orange. My doctor has given me wonderful news, and I am pleased to report I am cancer free. I will spare everyone the gruesome details, but the condensed version is that they were able to get it all and we are going to use hormones to create a hostile environment to ensure I remain cancer free. Part of the process will involve frequent meet-and-greets with my doctor (oh, joy!) but I should be able to remain healthy.
Looking back over the past month or so, I learned I am a great big chicken. The thought of being sick scared me stupid. I was shocked and horrified at my own inability to cope with the idea. I once again was struck with "this is not the plan" thinking. My role is to PROVIDE care, not to RECEIVE care. So, once again, to resolve my internal dichotomy, I sat back and took inventory.
The healthcare team (and, man, what a team they are! I can say I have been blessed with wonderful and supportive health professionals in my life) even included my dad's doctor, which was a shock. To be honest, when I started taking Dad to his appointments, I was, to put it nicely, stressed and difficult. My mom was so very ill, life was going in so many directions and every one of my dad's appointments was a reminder of each one's illness. Looking back, I realize Dad's doctor was not torturing me and not trying to make me feel incompetent and out of control. Rather, he was teaching me how to bring Dad to the doctor. I know, going to an appointment, how hard can it be? Well, it requires some homework. I needed to know his medicines, how well they were working, how he was feeling, changes to note and more.
Over the years, Dad's doctor and I have bonded and developed a lovely relationship. During my struggle with my illness, Dad had an appointment. Dad's doctor pulled me outside the room and asked, "What's wrong?" This wonderful man, who cares for my dad, reached out to me. I told him what was the matter and he gave me some wonderful advice and a hug. He looked me in the eye and told me I had to take care of myself because, without me, my dad does not exist. At that moment I realized how lucky Dad and I are to have him as our physician and how glad I am that I swallowed my pride and let him show me the ropes.
My incredible, wonderful and loving friends, circled the wagons and created a safe place for me. I was so tired, so scared and, let me say for the record, not one of the procedures was even close to a good time. But my friends were there with calls and good strokes. The love, affection and humor that came my way were unexpected gifts. I even received a care package from Care Team Caring Today; I got cookies!!!! For those who don't know, I have a thing for cookies. And I will confess to having cookies for dinner more than a few nights (lol).
As a caregiver I have many times felt cut off from the world; sometimes lonely, many times overwhelmed and convinced I had been abandoned by all. I mean, come on, how could I still have friends? I can't go dancing all night anymore, because I am too tired. I can't drop everything and go to the movies with my friends, as I need to arrange Dad's care. If I do go out for coffee, I compulsively check my cell phone for any missed calls or emergencies. But guess what? My friends were still there, waiting for me. As word got out that I was ill, the calls and emails flooded in. Every conversation with a friend included the message that I need only ask if I need anything at all. Wow!
Once I had my clean bill of health, I sat back to review the experience and came to a wise decision: I am running away from home. Not forever, but for a couple of days. As for those friends who offered assistance, I have taken them up on their offers to help and asked that they check in on Dad and my children while I am gone. If there is an emergency—like the roof collapses or the house is struck by a falling star—leave a message on my cell phone and I might call back. (Harsh, hmm?) I told Dad's doctor that I was going out of town and made sure everything was in place in case something did happen while I was gone (DNR, Advanced Directives, Power of Attorney, etc.) so Dad could receive the appropriate treatment.
My plan: Get on a plane and go to a hotel! That's the only hint I am giving. I'll sit by a pool (if the climate is appropriate), order up room service, not make my bed, go for a walk, read a book or two, knit some socks and just recharge my internal battery. All calls to my phone will go directly to voicemail (I will check it frequently; I am a caregiver, after all). I am giving myself permission not to return unnecessary calls. So, look out world, here I come!