Whether alone or with the support of friends and/or family, caregiving is a lifestyle that demands attention.
I did the group care thing my first time down this road, but as I am finding, the experience of managing the demands of caregiving by yourself has a decidedly different flavor.
Caring Together
My first experience of providing care was with family participating. Some family members helped and some did not, but there was a core of dedicated folks willing to pick up and tackle whatever needed attention.
“I’ll pick up Dad’s prescription. You guys corral the cats so we can take them to our place. Dad has an appointment at wound care in the morning, so make sure he is dressed and ready by 9:00”.
Details, details, but there were plenty of hands to make the work lighter.
Of course, some critics in the group thought that those of us doing the lifting were waiting for their strongly voiced opinions on how we were doing things all wrong.
They were incorrect on all counts.
A New Chapter
This time around, I am flying solo on caregiving duties. I try to coordinate support from across the country, but distance lends itself to a special brand of headaches.
Coordinating family support was always a thing. Organizing strangers and institutions from a distance is a whole different dance. The family would walk away. Strangers may not show up at all.
I cannot grumble too much. Many of the old crew that helped with Dad, have now passed away. Some in the family have specifically chosen to not join in on this episode with Mom. They know what they are passing up, and I cannot say as I blame them.
I envy having the option.
Insights
As I have pondered my predicament, I have come to own all of it. Not angry (a little stressed at times, perhaps), but embracing all of what it means to contend with dementia in a family member.
It feels a little different this time for some unanticipated reasons.
My caregiving skills do not seem to have eroded but the circumstances of providing care did change. The cliche of old dogs and new tricks springs readily to mind for some reason.
My time with Dad was about 20 years ago. (Where does the time go?) I had loads of help with his care, we lived much closer to one another, and he demonstrated a willingness to accept help. Most of the time, anyway.
This time around, the underlying disease progression is more advanced. Management of the situation is far less supported (corporate care is highly indifferent to the concerns of the person) and the willingness of the parent to accept help from this son is just not there.
As before, the situation calls for pulling up my big boy pants and doing what it takes to help a parent in distress. I do note that I am less inclined to embrace argument as a tool of caregiving. Quite a change from my past tendency to take on all comers.
Guess I am mellowing with age.
More likely, I finally figured out that one must determine a cost/benefit ratio to fighting. Some things are worth fighting over. Many, however, are not.
Wisdom does eventually arrive.
In some ways, I feel like I am being gifted the insights from receiving the other side of this caregiver coin toss. Learning to try new things is an opportunity that is hard to pass up.
The challenges sometimes remind me of medical school, and I survived that. I think I’ll manage this okay.
“We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and—in spite of True Romance magazines—we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely—at least, not all the time—but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don’t see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.”
― Hunter S. Thompson
Dad's Back 