Monday, June 06, 2005

Caregiving

If you're reading this...you may be an elder caregiver. Or you may one day be an elder caregiver. Or you may be a friend or helping professional for whom this is a relevant issue. Statistically, more of us are providing some degree of help to an elder loved one; and while this has been traditionally thought of as women's work, more men -- 44 percent of all caregivers these days -- are involved in caregiving to some extent. But statistically the average caregiver is a woman in her early 40's, caring in some way for an elderly mother in her late 70's while holding down a job and taking care of her own household.

My 80-something mom lives with me. While I tell my friends that at this point it's hard to tell who's caring for whom, in reality I find myself gradually taking on more responsibility as my mother becomes more frail; this year, for instance, she's resigned herself to using a cane, something she had been resisting despite several falls, including one that broke her wrist. She's always prided herself on being a good cook, and she is -- and in fact when I moved home we would engage in low-grade turf warfare in the kitchen -- but I notice now she no longer protests when I cook a meal in the evening to reheat the next day; it's a relief for her. And while she is still usually mentally sharp enough to tend to her own affairs, if she is unusually preoccupied, sad or otherwise not in a good place emotionally, our conversations become like the one I had on a Saturday morning a few months ago, when I was feeling sentimental for her French toast and proceeded to make that for breakfast; I used whole-grain bread, and added some vanilla to the eggs and milk, and griddled it to perfection in a little butter -- brown on the outside, custardy on the inside. Mom had gotten up achy and depressed, so I thought French toast would be a treat for her too.

"This is really good," she commented, as we sat at the breakfast table eating. Then there was a pause.

"What do you call it?"

I heard a metal-fatigue screech in my head, and saw a vision of my mother in a nursing home, slumped in a wheelchair, mewling like a baby, her eyes fixed in a thousand-mile stare. Oh, no. (I later had social-worker friends tell me that it isn't unusual for older adults to experience a sort of situational cognitive deficit if they're stressed, and that it is not necessarily indicative of something more serious. One of the nice things about working in a human services agency is that, when I wig out, I'm surrounded by helping professionals.)

Sometimes this caregiving thing can be a tough gig.

Two resources I'd recommend highly to anyone who is a caregiver, who may be one, or who counsels caregivers: And Thou Shalt Honor, by Beth Witrogen McLoed; and Counting on Kindness by Wendy Lustbader. The first book is a wonderful, comprehensive resource spanning everything from pre-caregiving planning when one's parents are "young seniors" to the concerns of persons providing 24/7 eldercare. McLoed covers issues like finding senior services, legal issues, calling family councils when important decisions need to be made, advice for caregivers whose loved ones suffer from particular disabilities or diseases, and self-care for caregivers themselves. The second book talks about caregiving from the perspective of the person being cared for -- the shame and frustration that dependent persons often feel, and how caregivers can minimize those feelings. Lustbader approaches this topic from a spiritual perspective, and talks about caregiving as a mitzvah, a good work, especially insofar as the caregiver protects the dignity of the person being cared for. For those of us whose peers tend to look askance at taking on this responsibility...well, sometimes it's good to hear some outside validation that we've made the right decision.

Anyhow...two excellent books. Whether you are assisting an elder or providing some moral or practical support to someone who is, you will find these most useful.

10 comments:

Sheryl said...

Thanks for those two resources. I work in home health care, and the owner of our company is always looking for books like this to get for our clinicians. The second, in particular, sounds really useful.

bls said...

Yeah, I know just what you mean. (I fit the statistics perfectly, BTW, when I was doing this.)

It's really tiring, both mentally and physicallly. I know we've talked about this before, but it's important to find some help, at least occasionally, so that you don't get overwhelmed. It's harder, I'm sure, when you're an only child; my brothers both did try to help me, although my Mother felt more comfortable with me, mostly. (Ironic about that, because we fought like cats & dogs for the most part. I think she liked that, actually.)

One thing we did, though, in the last year of my Mom's life, was to hire my sister-in-law's sister to come stay with us to cook and clean and just generally help out. I was working 60+ hours a week then, so that was wonderful. If you get exhausted, this kind of thing can be great. Obviously it's really helpful if this person is someone you both know and like.

You gotta take care of yourself, as well as your Mom. I was very glad I was able to help both my Mom and my Dad when they were sick and needed help, but it's exhausting when you do it for a long while and without help. As I'm sure you know already.

I really admire you for your patience, and your kindness to your Mom.

bls said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
LutheranChik said...

Sheryl: I work in aging services...I'm not out in the field with clients, but I do PR and community education and try to round up volunteers for local aging programs. One of my coworkers went to hear Wendy Lustbader a couple of weeks ago and came back really impressed...and we've all passed around the Counting on Kindness book. The irony is that so many of the other caregiving books approach the subject from an angle of "How to keep from going crazy taking care of your annoying and needy elderly parents"...and frankly, if you're in that frame of mind already, that's really not what you need to hear, because it just feeds the frustration and resentment factor. Lustbader's book is ennobling; it's a reminder that people who take care of others, personally or professionally, are doing a good thing in the world.

LutheranChik said...

Bls: Wow...both parents. I think that would have done me in, in my family, mostly because my dad was this really large-and-in-charge personality, and I think it would have been extremely hard to deal with him in a dependent state. (He died of an aortic aneurysm, when I was living away.)

While I thank you for your kind words...fact of the matter is, I was so immature, in some ways, and self-centered, when all of this came down in my family...I credit my caregiving experience with bringing me to the level of responsibility that most people my age are at anyway before they take on eldercare.;-) So I still feel behind the curve.;-)

It's ironic, isn't it, that so many of us live through this experience, yet there's very little validation in society for it...I know when I made the decision to move back to the hometown most of my friends and coworkers, and even my therapist at the time, were less than encouraging. And the agency I work for oftentimes has to pick up the pieces when adult children won't take responsibility...the kids (some of whom are already living in the area) respond with a "Make it go away" attitude, which we can't do, because our own services only go so far; some of these elders really shouldn't be living alone.

Good advice about self-care. One thing I can do for myself these days is the occasional day trip, like my recent pilgrimmage to the nearest food cooperative (how pathetic is it to have a peak experience finding tamari and organic Swiss chard? LOL Yes, I need to get out more), or my cherished excursions up to Benzie/Leelanau. And my quarterly program retreats are a nice break, too. Because falling is my huge anxiety with Mom, her recent willingness to use her footed cane has really been a big help not only for her but for me as well.

bls said...

The emotional part, I agree, is very hard. Worrying and all that. Actually, I was lucky because my Mom was lucid until the end, and absolutely insisted on climbing the stairs to go to bed every single night until the last week. (One of us had to stand behind her, of course, and give her a hand. It took about 15 minutes sometimes; she had respiratory problems and it was a huge effort. Stubborn lady.)

And BTW, with my Mom & Dad it was consecutive, sort of. My Dad got sick and died first, then my Mom. But in any case, I was glad to be around to help them in their later years - cleaning, yardwork, helping them go on vacation, all that stuff. It was hard sometimes, but it was a really worthwhile thing.

I was impatient a lot with my Mom - but was with me, too. Like I said, we fought a lot - but she like to fight and argue. It was entertainment for her, I think. It got her blood going. She liked all that screaming on talk radio, too.

BTW, I said the exactly same thing about having previously been pretty self-centered, too. Like I said, I think we're living the same life....

Sheryl said...

That's the kind of thing our owner tends to look for. Unlike most for-profit agencies, he believes that the patients and their families have to come first, and have to be treated with dignity and respect. Yes, he wants to make a profit, but not at the expense of patient care. And he believes very strongly in teaching our clinicians about the nobility involved in caring for the elderly, and helping them to support the families in that.

In my own life, I was very young when I had to take care of my parents - they were older when they had me, so they hit that point of infirmity pretty early in my life (I was almost 22 when my dad died, and just turned 24 with my mom). I sometimes feel guilty that I sometimes resented having to take care of them when I wanted to be out starting my own adult life. I was just too young and immature to view caregiving as the blessing it undoubtedly is.

LutheranChik said...

Bls: Sharing the same life except for the opera part, LOL. Although I grew up in a rather Wagnerian family, Sturm und Drang-wise. I should probably be walking around in an iron bustier and horned helmet, spear in hand.;-) (And I have been known to, very occasionally, exhibit diva-esque behavior.;-))

LutheranChik said...

Sheryl: Oh, I've guilted myself plenty...not so much over my mom, because we've really gotten much closer since I came back home, but over my aunt, for whom I'm a guardian. She's mentally ill; she had some sort of psychotic breakdown when she was a young woman, was treated, went back home to live and was fine for decades, but then she began to deteriorate again...when I got involved, she was living like a bag lady and had in fact severly injured herself. Literally no one else in the family could or would help; I had to go to Community Mental Health and get her evaluated, I had to petition the court for her involuntary hospitalization and I had to call in the sheriff's deputies and have her dragged, kicking and screaming, to the hospital. This saga took about five years from the time she began exhibiting psychotic symptoms to the time I was awarded guardianship, and I was in a perpetual state of rilement the entire time: Why me? Why is this happening to me? (Which in retrospect is rather comical -- why not me -- but at the time I felt like the Universe had painted a big bull's-eye on my back.) Anyhow, I still get annoyed at some of the paperwork I'm periodically required to do for her -- not at her, but at the system -- but that really poisonous resentment isn't there anymore.

bls said...

That reminds me. I have to renew my subscription for next season - I desperately want to see Don Giovanni.

I won't buy a ticket for you....

;-)