Gary Barg, Editor-in-Chief
I have heard a lot recently about a phrase that I really like: Care Partnership. We have always used this phrase mostly in relationship with the family caregiver becoming an equal member of their loved one’s care team. Garnering the respect that you deserve and being heard for your concerns as the CEO of Caring for Your Loved One, Inc.
One other way this phrase works is by partnering (if possible) with the person for whom you care. Admittedly, this is sometime an exceeding difficult task and other times it involves a bit of gamesmanship. If your mother living with cognitive decline used to do all the laundry and still wants to do so, as opposed to having her underfoot as you are doing housework, a basket of mismatched socks has been known to make a difference.
My grandfather was a tremendous artist and loved to teach art before his Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Creating his own beautiful canvas’ and having exquisitely made brushes, he would always bring out the best of his students. When the dreaded disease started to take over his mental acuity and he joined an adult day care facility, he would take to teaching again. This time using crayons and coloring books. On the days he would be teaching, I swear there was an extra spring in his step.
Realistically, this type of partnership is not always possible during a caregiving situation, but sometimes there is a loving light at the end of the tunnel.
Please share this message that was posted on caregiver.com after last week’s newsletter.
My Caregiver
She got me up every morning to give me my meds and do exercises. I screamed at her and was verbally abusive around the clock, angry that I lived through brain surgery and lost my independence. Sometimes she would go into the bathroom, turn on the shower and just cry. She didn’t know I could hear her sobs.
My daughter took an extensive training program, so she could take care of me in my home rather than send me to a nursing home. Her seven-year-old daughter also had to work hard to help grandma. My poor baby’s happy, smiling face didn’t shine anymore. My daughter thought I was looking at her with pure hatred in my eyes. She didn’t realize that hatred was because I had lost my life. Why, oh why, did I ever wake up after brain surgery.
One day I screamed at her and told her I wished I was dead and she was the cause of it. She raised her voice and said, “Not on my watch you won’t.” When I told her it was her fault I wished I was dead, what I meant was why won’t you just let me die?
Now I am better, and my poor daughter is in therapy. The BEST caregiver EVER. I can now walk, feed myself, shower and clothe myself without any help. I can walk unassisted most times, although sometimes my brain disconnects, and I can’t remember how to lift my leg. I still do stuff like put trash in the sink and dirty dishes in the fridge but she hangs in there. Did I say SHE IS A SAINT? I am begging you to recognize her selflessness.Jeanette,
Jeanette, We recognize the both of you. Thank you for your honest and heartwarming story.
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