Wednesday, June 16, 2010

She was still a caregiver

I came across something I had jotted January 7 of this year. Settling into my snowy, frigid car after leaving the hospital room of my dear friend, Molly, I remember the need to quickly transfer the emotions from my heart onto paper, to capture what I had just witnessed …

She watches and listens to the IV machine pump fluid into her body. Finally, she rests for a little while or at least closes her tired eyes, though you know her brain keeps pace with every rhythmic drop.

She's a caregiver, the spouse of an Alzheimer's patient who now resides in a care facility. His day-to-day care, though he is ambulatory, became too much for her and the family, and they made that difficult decision to place him in a nursing home.

Believe it or not, some people think she's NOT a caregiver anymore now that he is under the 24/7 eye of a facility. But she IS and will continue to be until he draws his last breath. She visits every day, makes sure his medical needs are met, sorts and makes sense of endless and redundant paperwork, and writes that expensive check every month for his care.

Most important, she loves him and shows him that every time she visits … whether she's laughs at his smile or cries in grief at his horrifyingly slow decline.

However, she's an exhausted caregiver, one whose own needs have gone unmet, albeit unintentionally, because she was consumed with worry and his care. She has a devoted family and circle of friends that have pitched in and assisted wherever possible …


My mini-essay ended there. I didn't finish it because Molly passed away two days later as she no longer had the energy to sustain her weakened body.

I can't believe Molly has been gone five months, exactly five months to the day on my birthday last week. My heart still aches at times missing our almost daily phone conversations. I know we'd be talking even more as I have now become an Alzheimer's caregiver for my dad-in-law, Pepaw.

But we wouldn't have depressed ourselves with talking Alzheimer's all the time. No, we would have laughed and talked about LIFE!

Oh, Molly, you would have loved Pepaw! You would have hit it off with this soft-spoken, sweet talkin' Tennessee native immediately! You would have engaged him in conversation just to hear his voice! And I would have smiled listening to the two of you yak the afternoon away …

Oh, Molly, what advice have you been whispering in my ear? Have I been paying attention?

I think it was your voice I heard two Sundays ago when I suddenly knew I HAD to take a day off, that my husband Roger needed to check on his dad and make sure he was eating properly. I had to give myself permission to take Alzheimer's off my to-do list for the day.

And I'm positive I heard it the other day when I checked on Pepaw after lunch. I thought he might want to leave his retirement center for a while and go shopping, but no, he said he was just going to watch TV for the afternoon. I asked if he was sure, and he reassured me with a smile that he was going to take it easy.

So I took it easy, too, and didn't feel guilty because Molly told me it was OK.

I cannot begin to compare what I have experienced in six weeks with what Molly experienced in six years, or what her incredible family continues to cope with today in caring for her beloved Joe.

But the most valuable lesson she taught me was to take care of yourself from the beginning … if YOU want to survive your loved one who has the Alzheimer's. That damn disease doesn't care who else it destroys in the process.

That's become my battle cry since Molly passed away, to educate every caregiver and family facing any catastrophic illness or injury, to pound these messages into them:

Take care of yourself!

Forgive yourself!

YOU cannot do everything yourself!

Nobody will do something as well or perfect as YOU, but it's OK to let them try!

Ask for help!

Accept help!

It's OK to be human!

It's OK to love yourself as much as your loved one!


That gives ME the energy for the coming days. That gives ME permission to be ME.

That's who Roger needs so WE can do this together.

That's who Pepaw needs.

That's who I need.

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