Uh-oh … I’m a Caregiver (Again)!

Two weeks ago on a Friday morning, I was happily moving through life managing my work and daily life without much of a care in the world. I was ticking the boxes on my “to do” lists (both work and personal), and my big focal point was to lose 10 pounds, so I had started a diet on that day.

Suddenly, with one phone call, all that changed.

Bob (my significant other) called from the doctor’s office (where he’d gone that morning because something seemed amiss with his peripheral vision) to say he had a detached retina and would need to undergo surgery the next day.

We sprang into action from 4 pm on that Friday afternoon, making preparations:

• Ordered a “face down” chair to be delivered that night, for use in his recovery (kudos to the company we called, who delivered it at 9:30 pm!)
• Called the kennel to make arrangements to drop off our dog, Bessie, early the next morning for an overnight stay
• Cleared the decks for the next three days in terms of plans (canceling a couple of events so we’d be “free”) and got a good night’s sleep so we’d be ready to get up early and deal with the outpatient surgery situation

The outpatient surgery went well (that’s a whole other blog, though), as did the follow-up appointment the next day with the doctor, who had made special arrangements to do Bob’s post-surgery check-up on the heels of having made Mother’s Day Toads-in-the-Hole with his 5-year-old daughter.

We were sent home with instructions for Bob to rest and not do anything strenuous, to sleep only on his side (no back sleeping), and for me to administer antibiotic drops in the eye 4x a day. It also ended up he didn’t need the face down chair, which was a big relief since it looked torturous. Easy, right?

All was going great until we woke up the next morning – what a Monday morning that was!

I was on the phone with a client doing an early morning call. As I wrapped it up around 9:30 am, Bob came to show me his absolutely horrible looking eye – very red and angry-looking, like something was SERIOUSLY wrong.

So we sprang into action AGAIN:

• Threw our clothes on and prepared to drive into the doctor’s office, nearly an hour away
• Gave Bessie a bone to keep her occupied while we would be gone
• Jumped into the car, being sure to bring all the medical documents related to the surgery and medications

I’m a good driver overall, and have prided myself on that over the years. But I never drove as well as I did that morning under the duress of getting Bob to the doctor’s office as quickly as possible.

The doctor reassured us that Bob’s eye looked normal under the circumstances, and told us the extreme inflammation might have been caused by the eyelid not being completely closed while he was sleeping. The antibiotic application strategy was changed to “4x a day ointment and patch” (from “just drops and no patch”).

We were greatly relieved, but still very freaked out, since naturally we want to make sure that Bob has the greatest chances for complete recovery.

Those first three days of re-adjusting, juggling, and generally trying to adjust to the new reality were tough. In no uncertain terms, I was reminded (once again) of just how difficult it is for caregivers to manage and balance all that you need and want to do while meeting the needs of your care receiver.

Three big observations come to mind:

• The constant and sheer unpredictability of it all … even with good planning, ANYthing can happen, and emergency action might need to be taken at a moment’s notice regardless of what else may be going on
• How pre-occupation with the daily needs of your care receiver can really impact your mindfulness and focus while you are going through your day
• The tendency to cut corners and save time on YOUR needs must be continuously resisted and overcome

Sheer unpredictability … Our recent experience was unpredictable to begin with, but even once we felt we had things under control, there were lots of curve balls, and they came at us FAST. Such as:

• The emergency trip in to see the doctor on Monday morning, because we thought Bob’s eye looked like it was hemorrhaging!
• NOT needing the face down chair (which cost about $350.00 for the rental fee and took about 5 hours of our time to order, take delivery, set up, then break down and pack for shipping back to maker)
• The unexpected time required to help Bob with meeting HIS obligations, since suddenly I was the driver and needed to help him get his “to do’s” done as well as my own

I don’t know about you and your schedule, but I tend to operate on a pretty thin margin of error in terms of time management. There is not much padding there for things to go wrong!

Preoccupation with care receiver’s needs … I noticed immediately that I was pre-occupied with all the new “things to do” and started doing absent-minded things, like:

• Hitting the “shut down” button on our coffeemaker instead of the “fill cup” button
• Paying for a fill-up at the gas station, then driving away from the pump without having pumped the gas (I admit I was literally congratulating myself in my head for “getting it done” when I realized I hadn’t actually pumped the gas yet!); luckily, I wasn’t out of the station yet, so quickly turned around and fixed the problem
• Missing the right-hand turn into the pharmacy to pick up the special-order, double-ply eye patches we needed (I was headed there with great determination, and then just zoned out and missed the turn)

One of the first mornings when the emergency seemed to be over, I gave myself the luxury of sitting outside on our deck for an hour, enjoying the fresh air while checking my emails. This is one of my favorite ways to start the day, listening to the birds singing and watching our hummingbirds flit about the three feeders we keep filled with sugar water for them. The feeders are literally within six feet of my chair, and it is quite the show!

But on this particular morning, as I went back inside for a coffee refill, I realized I hadn’t even SEEN or HEARD the hummingbirds while I was out there (again, I was there for an hour!). It’s a crime against nature not to take a moment and notice these lovely little bundles of joy – but that is the price of preoccupation.

Tendency to cut corners and skimp on your self-care … I also found myself actively looking to cut corners to save time. Thankfully, it dawned on me early in the game that I was going to need to really pay attention and make some active choices if I wanted to do this in a way that didn’t overwhelm me.

The best example of this is when I caught myself at the refrigerator thinking about lunch, and was about two seconds from just grabbing a few slices of turkey and stuffing them into my mouth while standing there. Common sense prevailed with my inner voice saying: “NO … you will take your turkey, slice a tomato, put them on a plate, and sit down and eat at the table like a civilized person.”

Fortunately, after those first three days of intensity, Bob’s situation has stabilized and his recovery is going well. My caregiving responsibilities largely revolve around driving since Bob cannot see much at all from his left eye. But that doesn’t stop him from backseat driving (perhaps a whole other blog)!

This recent reminder of the intense vortex of caregiving – though short – pretty much had it all: scheduled and emergency doctors’ appointments, outpatient surgeries, the need to learn how to change dressings and other medical tasks, undertaking daily life responsibilities (driving, cooking, shopping, etc.), and generally having someone else’s needs “come first” while having to fit in all your own needs in a totally hit-or-miss manner.

It left me more mindful than ever of the very real challenges faced by caregivers in terms of maintaining balance, staying focused on self-care, and somehow, some way, finding joy in the little things … like watching hummingbirds in the morning, like taking a long hot shower, like drifting off to sleep amidst the lovely scent of your favorite essential oil (right now, mine is Ylang Ylang).