Caregiver becomes the cared for

I have spent a lot of my time as a professional taking care of others.  When I graduated with my Bachelor's degree in Psychology and I began working at the Center for Prevention of Domestic Violence.  I worked in the Safehouse for battered women and took care of countless mothers and children.  My passion for caring for others in this capacity went outside the lines multiple times and I have never felt bad about it.


Photo by Jessica Dow

http://www.differentseasonsjewelry.com/

Once in the middle of the night I picked up a woman wearing a hospital issued paper dress who clearly had not eaten in days so I stopped and bought her a meal from a fast food restaurant with my own money.  I could have waited until we got back to the shelter and let her find something in the kitchen but that didn't feel right to me. I remember a two year old girl, the second to youngest of four, whom I cared for while working for hours.  I don't remember her name but I called her Mike because she had a habit of biting another boy about her age who was also in the shelter.  I would put her in a bouncy chair and bounce her with my foot while I worked or turn the fan on high and blast her with bubbles by holding the stick up to the fast moving air (a technique I developed after sore cheeks from blowing).

I could entertain you for hours with stories of clients I have cared for over the years.  I am proud of the many people that I have helped.  Caring for people became a badge of honor and a big part of my identity.  I suppose that caring for people was part of my comfort zone because I can honestly say that I was pretty uncomfortable changing positions.  I would work a good 60 hours a week and eat food on the run because I enjoyed my work so much.  At times I wonder if these unhealthy habits contributed in part or might have been responsible for my health issue now.

When first faced with becoming a care receiver I had to grit my teeth laying in bed in pain at the thought of being waited on.  It hurt every independent fiber in my body to rely on others to care for my baby and assist me with the activities of daily living.  My stubborn little self spent many an hour thirsty or hungry because I did not want to impose on my family members.  I know that my parents love me and would move heaven and earth to help me.  It was never a burden in their eyes bringing me food, getting me a drink, or doing anything else to help me.

I cannot say the same about my husband.  My cancer diagnosis and loss of independence invoked a spirit of fear in him.  Taking sole care of the baby during the day along with the very real possibility of raising him without me was overwhelming to him.  He had a real problem with getting me food or something to drink.  He was afraid that I would become accustomed to being waited on and then expect this of him for the rest of our marriage.  I know it sounds horrible.  I just need to remind you that cancer is a family crisis that affects everyone in the family and everyone reacts differently in crisis.

In my husband's case as I began to improve and was able to do more and more things for myself his helpfulness increased.  He accepted that my requests for help were based on my need and that when I didn't need help I didn't ask for help.  We have had many conversations about his reactions to my illness and he is not proud of his behavior.  At times he still struggles with how to give me emotional support.

Today my situation is greatly improved.  I am able to cook, to do more cleaning around the house, and to work a lot more weekly therapy appointments.  I still get very tired and my ability to walk around and move easily deteriorates each night to the extent that I have been active that day.

I do not know if Breast Cancer arrived to teach me spiritual lessons but I think it would be hard to have this experience and not gain wisdom.  I have blogged before about the fact that giving and receiving are two sides of the same coin.  You simply cannot have one without the other.  I am peeling back more layers of learning on how to ask for help in my life and how to receive gracefully.  I feel like a sulky girl who hates math class.  I am not enjoying these lessons.  Well heck, I have never enjoyed these lesson on receiving.  Some of them have been pretty harsh.  I had gotten pretty good, nearly expert level in the short game but when the game lasted for years rather than hours, days or a few weeks, I found myself cast back to beginner level.

I am interested on how you have handled this lesson  in your life.  Please comment or put together your own blog on the topic.

I am honored that you have taken the time to read this post and my blog.  Thank you.

Susan

PS:  No husbands were harmed in the writing of this blog