Some time in the late hours of Friday and early morning hours of this past Saturday, I sat mostly upright in a chair next to the bedside of a family member in the emergency department of our local hospital. While we awaited test results, we both occasionally dozed off until another doctor or nurse entered the room for a consultation, a test, or application of a medication. Every time the door opened or I heard a sudden sound, my head snapped up, and I blinked gritty eyes trying not to wonder what time it was. When they left, my family member would return to resting, and I would return to my zombie like state of trying to relax without falling completely asleep. Thankfully, I kept bumping my head and shoulder against a bin on the wall behind me in the tight space so it kept me just disturbed enough to remain awake.
Around two in the morning, my family member was moved to a room, and I found myself sleeping on one of those hospital couches with an infamous reputation. The next morning a nurse asked me how the couch had treated me, and I simply responded that it had “treated” me. My whole body ached while I tried to rouse myself Saturday morning after three and a half hours of sleep. At some point, your whole body is just running on the last bit of energy available. You’re doing your best to hold your head up and keep your eyes open, and you aren’t even certain if what you are saying makes sense. You listen closely when doctors enter the room, and you take notes on your phone because you’re afraid you won’t remember it all later. When another family member arrived to give me a break, I left to grab a bite, freshen up, and pack a few items in case we stayed another night at the hospital.
When I finally felt human again, I realized that some people don’t really know what it means when you talk about caregiving. They don’t realize it’s a full-time, sit-by-the-bedside, pray-for-good-results, skip-meals-to-be-present-when-doctors-arrive, forego-a-shower, and miss-sleep-while-sitting-in-the-emergency-department kind of job. Some people have the money to pay someone else for this kind of work. Some people let others in the family take care of it. Then there are the rest of us. We’re the ones who can nod off sitting up and wake at a moment’s notice when needed. We’re the ones who push through the headaches caused by stress and lack of food because we’re worried we can’t keep it down and take care of family. We’re the ones who look up medications and procedures on our phones so we know what is going on and ask nurses and doctors for explanations so we can then explain it to the family member.
Now, don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m not criticizing people who have the money to pay someone else to do the caregiving. You’ve earned the money to do that. I’m not criticizing the people who let others do the caregiving. Maybe you know caregiving isn’t your strong point. However, what I am saying is it’s important to have compassion, forgiveness, and mercy upon family caregivers. They’re performing an unpaid job out of love for their family. They are taking responsibility so others won’t have to. If you aren’t part of the caregiving, you don’t get to question, advise, or judge. You can offer support, encouragement, and help instead. If you are a family member, offer to do something to support the caregiver if you can’t assist with the caregiving. If you are a friend, offer assistance to the caregiver. If you are an employer, take off the management hat and put on the compassion hat for a few minutes. Caregiving is stressful enough without a bully of a boss giving a caregiver trouble.
I rely heavily upon my faith, my family, and my friends to do the caregiving that is expected of me. I couldn’t keep going without all that support. Sometimes, I don’t need someone to do anything except give me words of encouragement and prayers. Those mean the world to me. Caregiving is the unpaid full-time job I do out of love for my family members and because I don’t want to regret not having done enough someday. I’ve lived with that kind of regret in the past, and it isn’t something I care to repeat.
If you are a family caregiver of any type (parent, grandparent, caregiver to another adult, etc.), you are not alone out there. I see you. I hear you. You can do this. Even on days when you are barely putting one foot in front of the other. Even on days when you lock yourself in the bathroom or cry on the way to or from the grocery store. You matter. You are loved by this total stranger who understands your difficulties. Hang in there.
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Inspirational Verses for the Day:
I rejoiced in the Lord greatly because once again you renewed your care for me. You were, in fact, concerned about me but lacked the opportunity to show it. I don’t say this out of need, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself. I know how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content—whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need. I am able to do all things through him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:10-13, CSB)
All Things Subject to Change 