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Who Cares for Caregivers?
The ugly truth about Caregiving.
Caregiving isn’t for sissies. You can either do it or you can’t. There’s no middle of the road. It pisses me off when non-caregivers think anyone can take care of a person who’s incapacitated or (as in my case) a person who has cognitive deficits, no filter when he speaks, and thinks he’s fine.
When I first became my husband’s caregiver, all of our friends promised to help me. “Anytime you need anything, just let me know.” It’s amazing how many times I heard that when everybody thought my husband was going to die.
But he didn’t die. He’s still here eight years later. The first time I asked a friend for help, I needed a break and wanted to go to a local airshow by myself. I hadn’t had any “me time” in months. The answer I got? “Gee, I can’t. I’m riding my bike today.”
I asked his visiting friends to hang with him while I went to Home Depot. I came home to see my husband try to climb stairs while his friends just stood there without a gait belt and nobody to spot him if he fell. I helped my husband get back in his wheelchair and ushered the friends out the door.
To be fair, there are a few friends left that I know I can count on. I make those phone calls sparingly because I’m afraid to cross the line of “a friend in need” to “that pain in the ass…
