2006 "Give a Caregiver a Break” RUNNER-UP
"There Are No Dragons I Cannot Slay"
One day we were enjoying shopping and dining out with friends and family. The next, I was sitting in a hospital, watching my husband’s every breath. He was in a coma. I learned it was due to the administration of the wrong drug. That day—April 1, 2005—I became a caregiver.
Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. Being a caregiver is a 24/7 job. I am his nurse, maintenance man, health aide, physical and occupational therapist, dietician, counselor, scheduler, inventor and activity director. And that’s in addition to all the duties of running a home.
Jack is confined to a bed in a 12x15-foot room. I am also confined. He cannot attend to his needs, so I must always be there to assist with any activity. When I leave the room, I take a walkie-talkie in case he needs me. I must arrange for a sitter 48 hours ahead if I have to leave him. I have no freedom.
I have learned to say no and mean no. No, Jack is not going to a nursing home. No, I cannot attend. No, I cannot donate to your cause. But it is so hard to miss activities with family and friends.
I have learned I cannot do this alone. I must accept the help. My brother does my grocery shopping; my sister does my Wal-Mart runs. My neighbor takes care of my yard. A friend brings supper on Monday nights. I receive emails, telephone calls and cards letting me know friends and family are thinking of us. All this helps with the isolation that I have learned to accept.
Alternatives for the Older Adult helps me find resources I need. Help is out there. You must seek it. And when you find it, accept it.
I have learned I am not the weakest link. I am strong. I am powerful. I am a caregiver. There are no dragons I cannot slay. I can handle anything. I have learned not to sweat the small stuff and that it is all small stuff. All that is important in my life is the man I married almost 36 years ago.
I grieve for the life I had. I have learned how fragile life is and try to make every minute count. We leave nothing unsaid.
No matter how hard I think it is to be a caregiver, it is a lot harder being a care receiver. Jack has lost all his freedom and dignity. He must rely on someone for all his needs. He fights for every breath he takes. It would be so easy for him to give up, but he is fighting and struggling every minute for me.
I am the luckiest person in the world. The last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning is “I love you. I am so lucky I found you.” What more can I ask for? I am a caregiver.
—Diane Cornelius, Moline, IL