Monday, May 21, 2007

 

Here's something for all of you, who know in-home caregivers...

...and either think it's no big deal or don't think about it much, to ponder:
    I've recently struck up a friendly acquaintance with a woman who is, among handling other family challenges, caring in-home for her elderly mother (who has cancer), and her husband (who has a variety of escalating health problems that have led to clear disability).
    What you need to know about this woman: Prior to finding it necessary to become an avocational in-home caregiver, she was a professional nurse. She spent many years working in hospitals, live-in facilities, in private duty and in hospice. She is highly skilled, extensively experienced and loves her vocational work. She is the kind of professional health care worker you'd want handling your own relatives if they ever needed professional intense needs care.
    Her current situation: Despite a sterling professional resume, she is clearly overwhelmed by in-home caregiving, for a variety of reasons, all of which are well known to all avocational caregivers:    She is, at this time, going through an entrenched period of caregiver burnout. She describes herself as a once easy-going, live-and-let-live kind of person who could deal with anything. This still comes through in our mutual correspondence, but she is also, now, clearly desperate and beside herself. She is displeased (to say the least) with what she senses she's becoming as a result of pursuing in-home, intense needs caregiving and fears for her future self. She continues, here and there, to gratefully experience extended moments of deep joy, inspiration and exhilaration through her in-home, intense needs caregiving, but she is more often so inundated that she continually wonders if and when she will fall into the deep end.
    I'm going to take a moment to spell out the point of this post: This woman is highly professionally skilled and experienced in the type of care many of us have found ourselves offering avocationally; not only this, she was a superior professional caregiver. She loved giving care when she was a professional. It was her calling. If her in-home care recipients disappeared today she would probably go right back to her former career and find as much satisfaction in it as before. She was able to remain grounded, familiar with and pleased with herself throughout her long career. She is now doing it avocationally and is finding that in the home environment exactly the same skills, experience and demands in which she reveled are ripping her apart, changing her in ways which confuse and try her.
    People, how many times do we caregivers have to shout this before the rest of you get it???? In-home, intense needs caregiving is extremely demanding. It requires a level of dedication and devotion, emotionally, intellectually, physically, socially and psychically, that can undo even the pros. Why do you suppose this is true? I can tell you: We live in a society that, for the most part, is extremely caregiver unfriendly...so caregiver unfriendly that it's hard to find pros like my friend; so unfriendly that the best advice caregiver advisers can offer us is akin to no advice at all: Hire someone to cover for you so you can take a break, regardless of the very real possibility that when you return from your break, you'll have to work double time to clean up the mess your hired help created.
    Shaking head, closing eyes, humming to myself..."when will we ever learn, when will we ever learn..."
    Later.

Comments:
Originally posted by Mona Johnson: Fri May 25, 01:04:00 PM 2007

Gail,

I think the phrase "no advice at all" is amazing. How many caregivers are there in the country, or in the world? How isolated they (you) must be, if there's "no advice at all."

Why is it that parents caring for children have advice showered on them, while children caring for parents hear few wise words? Where is the Doctor Spock of the eldercare world?


Originally posted by Gail Rae: Fri May 25, 01:57:00 PM 2007

Excellent comment and good question: Where is our Dr. Spock??? The very, very sad truth is that I read not too long ago in NYT that fewer and fewer medical students are specializing in geriatrics as time goes on. Part of the problem is Medicare/Medicaid...doctors are still expecting God-pay (which isn't that surprising, considering that medical schools and supply houses continue to expect to be compensated for training and instruments as though they were God) so Medicare/Medicaid isn't enough to keep geriatric physicians minimally compensated, especially considering medical malpractice insurance, nowadays. Also, though, few people want to deal with the old. I slightly know someone who is focusing her education toward medical school at the moment. I asked her if she might consider geriatrics. Her response was, "Old people? No way!" Then, she laughed, as though I was the stupid one for asking.
Caregivers could definitely use a Dr. Spock, or, for that matter, a Spock. "Beam me up, Scotty. Tell McCoy to have his tricorder ready, I've got an Ancient One, here, who needs a little doctoring..."


Originally posted by Deb Peterson: Thu May 31, 04:48:00 PM 2007

Gail--I'm finally catching up with the dear friends I've neglected for awhile--I've read quite a few of your posts tonight and realized how much I've missed you.

I have just a quick comment on this post, and on your and Mona's comments: I can't help but think that so much of medicine is still about "curing", which may be why geriatrics is not attractive to so many young doctors. Old age is the ultimate, inevitable state that cannot be made to go away. To face this is to face not only our own future, but also the shallowness of our present. "Successful" lives are now expressed in terms of action and acquisition--that's how we define usefulness. Getting old--and taking care of someone who is getting old--is learning how to wait well. Learning patience. Moving inward. Risking social esteem for something less showy. How many people have the backbone for that?
 
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