We All Need to Pop Before We’re Toast
Let’s make sure family caregivers get their deserved break in 2022.
Last week, I shared my recent caregiving experience in an online article in The Wall Street Journal. The story focuses on three difficult months during the second half of 2021 when burn-out intensified for me.
The truth is that I was toast before the difficult events shared in The WSJ article started. I was burnt over the Fourth of July weekend because my father’s home health nurse recommended he go to the Emergency Room on a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon for a blood test that could have waited. My father worried about a problem that I knew wasn’t a problem. His home health nurse added to his panic. When my dad shared his concerns with me, I reminded him that we’ve been through this situation before, it’s not an emergency and the problem clears up in a few days. He wasn’t convinced and insisted we follow the nurse’s recommendations.
To say that I was pissed would be an understatement. I was angry the nurse increased my dad’s anxiety. I was angry that the nurse never took into account that she blew up my Sunday. I was angry we were using the emergency room as a lab. I was angry I had to give up a beautiful sunny afternoon. I spent the time with my dad in the ER sending texts full of swear words to my three siblings. Three hours after we arrived in the ER, we left with assurances from the ER doctor that there was no problem and my dad was fine.
Three weeks later, my mom fell and had a heart attack. Seventeen days after my mom’s heart attack, my brother died suddenly. My dad had two more falls (one required a visit to the ER because of gashes to his head and a terrible skin tear on his arm) and mom received a diagnosis of Parkinson’s. We had a really rough three months.
Those three months were part of a longer caregiving experience. I began helping my dad in 2004 after his bladder cancer diagnosis and helping my mom in 2015 after an internal bleed only stopped after emergency surgery. She never recovered from the ordeal.
I wasn’t burned-out just because of the unnecessary ER visit in July or because of the horrible events that happened later. I was toast because of all that happened over a period of years. I tried so often to take a break — even just a few hours like that Sunday afternoon over the Fourth of July — and some caregiving event simply disrupted it. We can plan our breaks but caregiving events often interrupt them.
I finally took a staycation in early December. I stayed close to home, checking into a hotel only 10 miles from my parents, and used my reward points to get five free nights. My staycation included a time with my sister and sister-in-law (the wife of my brother who died) on what would have been my sister-in-law’s 30th anniversary. I needed to deliver a virtual presentation to an organization’s Employee Resource Group and wanted to meet my sister and sister-in-law after. Staying downtown allowed both to happen; I delivered the virtual presentation from my hotel room and then walked to meet my sister and sister-in-law at a nearby venue. My staycation included other work commitments and downtime so I could visit the city’s art museum and outdoor Christmas market.
I got away in the simplest way I could create while still being present to support my sister-in-law and keep the important work commitments. I also stayed close enough to be available in case of a caregiving emergency.
The break did make a difference. The change of scenery helped me experience life outside of caregiving. The hotel’s Christmas decorations were lovely and only required that I enjoy them. Time with my sister and sister-in-law was precious. Walking around downtown Chicago was fabulous. Watching so many individuals at the hotel enjoy their lives was comforting. Life can be good.
Before the break, I dreaded any caregiving responsibilities. Now, I am calmer and less aggravated. I am a nicer person. I am nicer to my parents and nicer to myself.
We regularly hear that we need to focus on our own self-care so that we can better care for others. Sure. And we have other important reasons to focus on our own needs.
We take care of ourselves because we matter. We deserve a life during our life of caregiving. We take care of ourselves so that we keep the best version of ourselves. The worst version of myself (the version that sends texts full of swears) leads me to feel guilty, remorseful and regretful. The best version of myself gives me a better night sleep.
The challenge, of course, is taking these breaks. We need help and support to make them happen. We need resources and back-up to regularly give ourselves time away, even time away to take a walk around the block.
Most important, we need health care professionals to take into account the impact on us and to have conversations with us about what we can manage. That doesn’t happen; I’ve never had this kind of conversation in my 17 years of caregiving.
We regularly advocate that family caregivers must be part of every health care conversation. We know our carees best. We can save the system money. In addition, we can save ourselves when the health care system also takes care of us.
We need to make this happen for every family caregiver in 2022.
I’d love to know: When has a health care professional asked about you and your ability to manage all that’s required of you?
Resources
Join us Jan. 20 at 1 p.m. ET to create your daily healing plan. The plan helps you name the loss you’re feeling, connect to a strategy that can soothe and then move into feeling better. Register to join us.
Give yourself a good start with Good Morning! to You, a journal that includes sunny salutations to start your weekday. The journal includes greetings, gratitudes and goals for 54 weeks of weekdays. (You can take a break on the weekends.) Get the Kindle book free for four days beginning January 3.
Sometimes, we need relief from our difficult caregiving emotions. Other times, we need time away from our trying caregiving situation. Take a quick quiz to pinpoint your need.