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For most of us, caregiving begins subtly. An errand here. A doctor appointment there. Fix something at the house, today. Help with the checkbook, tomorrow.
To be sure, a stroke or accident – something that happens in a flash – can turn our lives upside down. Even then, however, we often don’t take time to label ourselves caregivers. We just jump in and do what is needed. Then the domino effect takes over.
Here’s my story. Here’s how the domino effect took over, long before I stopped and said to myself, “I have a job. A huge job.”
I was doing some freelance writing, but that didn’t pay much. I was caring for two children, one with undiagnosed health problems – more developing by the day. My in-laws’ need for help was ever increasing. My mother was scheduled to have a second hip replacement. My childless aunt and uncle had moved to North Dakota to be with us, their only family. Then my aunt died from cancer and my uncle got busy having strokes.
My mother’s first hip replacement had left her unsteady so she used a walker. Her mind was still pretty good, and she still drove, so she was driving my newly widowed uncle to his doctor appointments. Mom called me one morning from the clinic. She had fallen in the snowy clinic parking lot as she was trying to get my uncle out of the car for an early appointment. She got up, but said taking Uncle Wilkes to the doctor was now my job.
My dad, the night before, had developed a high temperature from an infection and was hospitalized, so both Mom and I were dealing with that, too. My eight-year-old son was home sick.
When Mom called after her fall, I started flying around, handling all of the emergencies. It was natural, since I’d just finished a five year stint caring for my elderly, totally deaf neighbor. Emergency mode was my norm. Sick child? Got it! Elder fall? Got it! Hospital run? Got it!
Mom had her second hip replaced and never fully recovered. Dad ended up having brain surgery which left him totally demented. My uncle had a massive stroke, which left him in a nursing home, where my dad eventually joined him. My father-in-law died, leaving my mother-in-law alone in the condo, with her growing paranoia. The doctors continued to be baffled by my son’s illnesses.
My days went like this: Get the kids up and ready for school (or see if Adam was well enough to go) and drop them off. On the way to Mom’s, stop at the grocery store for her fresh fruit and other things she wanted (you see where this is going)?
Drive over to Mom’s apartment and help her shower and get breakfast. Throw in some laundry at her place and drive back home to throw in my own laundry. If Adam was home, see to his needs. If I’d dropped him off at school, I’d always worry if he would be able to stay for the day – no cell phones then. Drive back and pick up Mom so I could take her to the nursing home to see Dad and Uncle Wilkes.
While Mom visited, I’d go to fix lunch for my mother-in-law and visit with her. Then, I’d go back to the nursing home and visit Uncle Wilkes and Dad, then take Mom home, then go get kids. This was a normal day – one without Mom falling, so I had to go over at night. One without an emergency at the nursing home that meant I had to meet someone at the ER.
To be sure, a stroke or accident – something that happens in a flash – can turn our lives upside down. Even then, however, we often don’t take time to label ourselves caregivers. We just jump in and do what is needed. Then the domino effect takes over.
Here’s my story. Here’s how the domino effect took over, long before I stopped and said to myself, “I have a job. A huge job.”
I was doing some freelance writing, but that didn’t pay much. I was caring for two children, one with undiagnosed health problems – more developing by the day. My in-laws’ need for help was ever increasing. My mother was scheduled to have a second hip replacement. My childless aunt and uncle had moved to North Dakota to be with us, their only family. Then my aunt died from cancer and my uncle got busy having strokes.
My mother’s first hip replacement had left her unsteady so she used a walker. Her mind was still pretty good, and she still drove, so she was driving my newly widowed uncle to his doctor appointments. Mom called me one morning from the clinic. She had fallen in the snowy clinic parking lot as she was trying to get my uncle out of the car for an early appointment. She got up, but said taking Uncle Wilkes to the doctor was now my job.
My dad, the night before, had developed a high temperature from an infection and was hospitalized, so both Mom and I were dealing with that, too. My eight-year-old son was home sick.
When Mom called after her fall, I started flying around, handling all of the emergencies. It was natural, since I’d just finished a five year stint caring for my elderly, totally deaf neighbor. Emergency mode was my norm. Sick child? Got it! Elder fall? Got it! Hospital run? Got it!
Mom had her second hip replaced and never fully recovered. Dad ended up having brain surgery which left him totally demented. My uncle had a massive stroke, which left him in a nursing home, where my dad eventually joined him. My father-in-law died, leaving my mother-in-law alone in the condo, with her growing paranoia. The doctors continued to be baffled by my son’s illnesses.
My days went like this: Get the kids up and ready for school (or see if Adam was well enough to go) and drop them off. On the way to Mom’s, stop at the grocery store for her fresh fruit and other things she wanted (you see where this is going)?
Drive over to Mom’s apartment and help her shower and get breakfast. Throw in some laundry at her place and drive back home to throw in my own laundry. If Adam was home, see to his needs. If I’d dropped him off at school, I’d always worry if he would be able to stay for the day – no cell phones then. Drive back and pick up Mom so I could take her to the nursing home to see Dad and Uncle Wilkes.
While Mom visited, I’d go to fix lunch for my mother-in-law and visit with her. Then, I’d go back to the nursing home and visit Uncle Wilkes and Dad, then take Mom home, then go get kids. This was a normal day – one without Mom falling, so I had to go over at night. One without an emergency at the nursing home that meant I had to meet someone at the ER.
