Caregiving
“I spend most of my days at the care center”, said my friend recently. Or, “I always have lunch with my partner even though the food isn’t that good. He eats better if I’m with him.”
Lurking in the back of our thoughts, often unspoken, is the specter of becoming a caregiver. Most of us know someone who dropped everything else in their lives to devote most of their days and nights to keeping their partner safe and comfortable. What if my partner was injured, or sick, developed a chronic condition, or couldn’t function independently? What if I needed my partner’s support in a similar way?
And what if we both needed help? Sometimes the abilities can balance each other. Years ago, I regularly provided transportation to the grocery store for people who lived in an independent, active retirement community. I remember one couple who managed the weekly shopping trip very well together. He could barely see and she was quite unsteady on her legs, but they went arm and arm, plus a cane, and managed the tasks. He’d been the editor in chief of a major city newspaper, and both of their minds were still sharp. They devised a way to get around safely and effectively. Plus, they’d planned ahead and moved to an environment where more support was readily available if/when they needed it.
I notice we are starting early in our household: beginning to attend medical visits together; or be more attentive to each other’s physical issues before we really have to; becoming quietly attentive to changing needs.
What if I also adopted the role of being caregiver to myself? What would that mean? Perhaps instituting a bit of the rigor and commitment to self-care that I would expect of a responsible caregiver. Would that change my behavior on the days that I get discouraged or just plain tired of the careful tracking of what’s good for me? Isn’t my own health as important as the health of someone I cared for? Or worked for? Well, of course it is. I’m just shifting my thinking to see if it has an encouraging effect on me.
