Twenty-eight years ago I said “I do” to my sweetheart, Chris. In that time we have been through raising teens, loss of parents, and welcoming grandchildren to our family of misfits. I have been very fortunate that Chris has stayed far away from surgical repairs of any kind. However, I have had multiple surgeries on a crummy foot and required other flesh-fixing procedures. During these times my dear partner has provided me with tender loving care. He is always unselfish, and a true servant leader. Now, after decades of (mostly) wedded bliss, it is my turn to offer selfless, tender mercies to the one I love.
As a hospice nurse, I have presumed this thing called “caregiving” should be a no-brainer for me; no struggle, no problem. I have spent more than two decades in service to those whose bodies are no longer well; no longer whole. I’ve offered prayer, shed tears and provided “active listening and support” as I often document in a patient’s chart. So, I anticipated this new season of providing service to the one person I promised to love, honor and cherish, would come naturally. I was sure it would be like taking a deep breath before I dive underwater and looked forward to time off work. My plan was to write, watch long-anticipated movies and thin out overstuffed closets. I envisioned myself plopping down on our well-worn, dog hair-covered sofa with a bag of popcorn in one hand and a blow pop in the other. (Yes, at times I still consume food like a twelve-year-old. Maybe that’s why the scale so often goes in the wrong direction)! How hard can this caregiving thing possibly be, right? I have one husband, two dogs and a house to keep in order. Not a big deal, I can do this in my sleep…”vacation here I come!”
Shamefully, I confess that sometimes I listen to my patient’s caregivers telling stories of exhaustion and ” burnout”, and have ugly private thoughts like “man up!”, or “put on your big girl pants!” Thank you sweet, gracious Lord, that when I’ve felt this way, the Holy Spirit locks my jaws shut, and these hurtful, judgmental and destructive words don’t spew out of my sinful mouth…thank you, thank you, God!!
This thought process that providing care is “easy peasy” only turned out to be a fairytale…” no way Jose”, you’re wrong again Karen Sue! I have discovered that caregiving is NOT a no brainer and it’s not an opportunity to “veg out”. It is hard, and I am exhausted! Because of my preconceived ideas, I was ill-prepared, and now I am humbled (once again).
Here are just a few things I have learned over the past few weeks about caregiving, sacrifice and the emotional and physical exhaustion that comes with it. A caregiver may have to say goodbye to a cozy bed way before the rooster crows to keep her house in order and afloat. She may have to sit in a waiting room that has a chattering television which no one is watching and wait for hours beyond normal meal times where food and drink are banned out of respect for those who are waiting a procedure and are fasting. A caregiver once again gives up her shut-eye to receive deliveries of medical equipment so their loved-one is supplied with the best technology for healing and comfort. Most likely this person will take on all the household chores, pet care, and financial issues. There are texts to send, Facebook posts and emails from well-wishers to respond to. The caregiver may be too physically tired to eat healthy food, to tend to their own spiritual and physical needs, or too tired to be a good friend or neighbor. She may just have nothing left to give.
These examples are only a quick peek of what a caregiver may experience. Just a stolen glance at what I saw during my very brief time as a caregiver.
I assure you, the rationale for writing this post is not my need for validation, or a “that a girl”! Reminding my husband to take his pills and do his physical therapy neither qualifies me as a caregiver or places me near that level of sacrifice. I am writing to dispel the myth that caregiving is easy. No, my friends, it is not for the faint-hearted. My personal experience is a temporary struggle. It is a splattering of grease out my pan of bacon. It is a short blip on the sonar screen of our married life.
I am fortunate to have every reason to believe my husband will eventually be able to make his own meals, walk the dogs and “pull his weight”. I see a future with him laughing without wincing in pain. He will be able to join me in our king size bed and say farewell to the recliner.
Unlike so many caregivers, I have no crippling “anticipatory grief”, I have no fear of the future for my adult – child who is likely to outlive my ability to provide a home. For me, there is no job on the line when work is missed in order to taxi my loved one to specialists, counselors or treatments. I have no shattered dreams; I am not second-guessing medical decisions, and no “shoulda, woulda and coulda”. For me, this is not a lifetime assignment, it is temporary; it is a season.
To those who give every ounce of energy and every tear, I salute you. I admire you for sacrificing vacations, new clothes, and hearty slices of family finances to care for a loved one. To the wife of a stroke survivor, the daughter of a parent plagued with dementia, the mother of a precious special needs child and many others, I honor you. Your perseverance, tenacity and smiling faces amid indescribable pain and fear inspire and awe me. I take my hat off to the raw selflessness that allows you to go one more day, make one more phone call, and offer one more meal. Never think your sacrifice goes unnoticed by The One who loves you most; The One who can provide you with the strength to make it through one more day of service.
May I encourage you to lean into the One who has for you a place of rest, a safe place to fall, a place to refresh.
Jesus said:
“Come to me all you who are burdened and heavy laden, and I will give you rest”. Mathew 11:28
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” Mathew 5:4
“Blessed are those who are merciful, for they will be shown mercy” Mathew 5:7
For those of us who have the opportunity to rub shoulders with these heroes of sacrifice, let us share their burdens. Bring a meal, provide a short respite, offer a hug or just a listening ear. Share in their journey, just a little, and you too will get a sweet taste of giving yourself away.
Humbly,
Karen
Thank you for your thoughts