It’s Graduation season. Nothing brings me to tears faster than the first few strands of Pomp and Circumstance. No matter the venue or whether I know one of the graduates personally, it’s such an incredible feat and brings to the forefront how long it takes to find success and how many people we need in our corner to pull off such an accomplishment. As the celebratory photos are splashed all over social media, I often see parents utter this plea. “Time, stand still.” It’s a public admission that time is indeed fleeting; and our limited years with our children are…
Caregiving Through the Patient’s Eyes by Lori Vober
In January 2003, at the age of twenty-nine, I suffered a devastating hemorrhagic stroke. The stroke was caused by an undetected malformation of blood vessels on the right side of my brain, and I underwent emergency brain surgery the night of my stroke to stop the massive bleed. I woke up seventeen days later from a drug-induced coma, paralyzed on the left side. In the blink of an eye, our whole lives had changed. I am an only child, and my husband, Dainis, and I were just shy of our fifth wedding anniversary when my stroke occurred. I spent two…
We Don’t Have What It Takes to Care for Our Parents by Kathy Howard
When my husband and I were young parents, we designated that carefree time of life before the arrival of the first offspring as “BC” – before children. Before children we enjoyed spontaneous outings, a little extra spending money, and a good night’s sleep. But “after children”, everything changed. Grocery store trips required hours of preparation. Paychecks often ran out before the next payday. And we regularly navigated our days in a sleep-deprived state. Caring for little ones was tough. Then they grew to be teenagers and parenting stretched us to new lengths. Now, with our children grown, we can look…
The Gift of the Ordinary (Extraordinary)-Part 2 – by Cheri Swalwell
What started out as an ordinary Friday night turned into a longer-than-decade caregiving journey with my husband. We were young, in our early 30s, forced to travel a road that many doctors couldn’t put a diagnosis to the symptoms he was struggling with daily. Because of that frustration, we began navigating a healthier alternative to his healing. One particular doctor’s appointment still stands out to me. I remember the doctor talking to me while my husband was out of the room, commending me for my continued support of him throughout the years. I didn’t understand exactly what she was saying,…
Choosing to Care by Evelyn Johnson-Taylor
There were so many things we talked about doing. We both believed that God had called us to build a thriving mission-minded ministry. We wanted to travel and one day retire to our front porch swing and watch the sunsets together. None of that mattered now. Or did it? My husband was sick, and I was his caregiver. Given what we were facing, what was I supposed to do with the unfulfilled dreams, hopes, and expectations? I had to choose whether to lean into what was required of me in that season or to live resentful and isolated. I’d like…
Respect for the Independent Loved One by Loretta Eidson
After mom passed away, dad grew weaker and didn’t get around well. He was determined to maintain his independence, so he refused to move in with us. Therefore, my sister, Tina, and I had to do tag-team caregiving. Tina worked a full-time job, and I was deep in caregiving for my husband, who had multiple health issues. Not to mention, I lived on the opposite side of town. We called him daily and made sure he had everything he needed, like easily prepared foods, his favorite beverages, a wheelchair, a rollator with a seat on it, a cane, a quad…
Holding Your Hand in a Flame by Darcie J. Steiner
Caregiving isn’t just for older people. In 2000, I began needing care at age 35 after falling down the stairs in our home. My husband Mark was launched into caregiving not only for me but full-time as well for our young daughters. After my fall, I developed a nerve-pain disorder called Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. It is very complex and excruciatingly painful. Any slight touch to the skin sent me over the moon in pain. Mark cared for me for five years until my symptoms diminished, and I could again care for myself. Then the unthinkable happened. After fully recovering…
The Thursday Gift of the Ordinary (Extraordinary) -Part 1 – By Cheri Swalwell
My father-in-law had been in the ICU for three days, unresponsive. His family had surrounded him throughout the days, for as long as we were allowed to be there. To my surprise, when my daughter and I arrived at the beginning of visiting hours on Thursday to take up another silent vigil, he was awake, alert, talking and so happy to see us. We were given the gift of two uninterrupted hours with him, holding his hands, and listening to him as he blessed each of our family members. He would not stop talking and reliving so many special events…
What Hat Do You Wear: Primary Caregiver, Primary Care Manager or Both? by Dr. Ronda Wells
What Hat Do You Wear After fifteen years of caring for four elderly family members, sometimes all at once, I learned the hard way there’s a big difference between caregiving and care-managing. An understanding of what “hat” you wear can be helpful to understand the tasks required, and hopefully to delegate some of those to share the load. Your “hat” also lets you communicate better with professionals involved in your loved one’s life. Most people know what is meant by primary caregiver (PCG)—a person(s) who does repetitive, daily, hands-on care of a loved one that includes: feeding bathing toileting giving…
God Doesn’t Waste a Hurt by Deborah Malone
Thank you, Loretta, for inviting me to share my experience with caregiving. This is a much-needed topic for those who find themselves in the position of being a caregiver to a loved one. My experience as a caregiver started at a very young age. I can’t remember when I didn’t feel the overwhelming responsibility that comes with being a caregiver. My mother was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis when she was only 12 years old. After being bedridden for a couple of years, she went into remission. Mother was from Cincinnati, Ohio, and my dad was from Opelika, Alabama. Talk about…
