It’s ironic that my last, yes last, blog for Tough Conversations should be about my becoming a caregiver. Writing about it, including ‘remote’ caregiving, is easy. It’s way different when you’re caregiving up close and personal.

Short story: In February my wife fell and broke her femur…in two places. Two days after a surgeon put it back together with a steel rod, she was about to begin physical therapy. Then she had a stroke.  Her third. After a week lying on her back in the stroke unit, the hospital (thankfully) moved her to its Acute Rehabilitation Unit where she received intensive therapy and learned how to walk again. Not too strongly, but enough to be discharged safely.  

What the hospital couldn’t treat was her 24/7 dizziness.  She had had dizziness from an earlier stroke, but this time it really whacked her.

She’s been home about two months and is receiving vestibular therapy which (we hope) will diminish, if not eliminate, her dizziness. For those of you who live with this condition, you know that it impacts everything you do. And it saps one’s energy.  

I have to admit that my wife’s condition is not half as serious as most persons who need family care giving.  She’s can manage her ADLs.* We go for walks and share some household chores. But like others who need support, she can’t be left alone…for now.

I am not complaining. I am thankful she’s getting stronger.  We have a network of willing friends, ready to help out, visit, and run errands.  We’re members of a Village (For those of you who don’t know about Villages check www.vtvnetwork.org.). But I want to share some of the lessons most other caregivers already know:

1. Attitude is all. It’s easy to understand why some caregivers become bitter.  There’s little time for oneself.  But maintaining a positive attitude can sweeten the sourest of moments.  

2. Know how and when to advocate. Google all those medical terms the professionals throw at you. Study up on your loved one’s medications, especially if they have adverse effects (most do). Go to doctor’s appointments armed every question you can conjure. 

3. Accept help. At first I thought I could do it all. A few days later that illusion disappeared. 

4. And ask for help. This is not the time for Stoic self-reliance. If you have sources of support, enlist them.

No doubt you out there who care give can think of oodles of others. This is just for starters.

I’ve enjoyed our correspondence over the past ten years. Thank you for reading our blogs and for sharing your thoughts.

Sig

*ADL = Activities of Daily Living

Dianne Rehm is the recently retired host of NPR’s “All Things Considered,” a talk show from Washington, DC. John Hagedorn is a retired Lutheran minister. The Washington Post dubbed their Washington Cathedral wedding on October 14, 2017 ”a sign of hope.”

The gorgeous, adoring couple exchanged traditional vows surrounded by friends. What drew attention was the ages of the bride and groom. She’s 81, he’s 78. The Rev. Canon Jerry Anderson said they are the oldest couple he has married in 49 years.

The news made me smile. In many respects, their story is my story. Last April I married an old friend, Jim Le Gette. A few months after the wedding, we both turned eighty.

Like Dianne and John, Jim and I knew each other for many years (thirty in their case, fifty in ours). Like them, we’d lost mates after long, happy marriages. Like theirs, our friends were delighted but surprised.

It’s not unusual for older people to get together, even to live together. But it is rare for them to marry. Why? One reason may be more about their children than themselves.

[Read more…]

Transparency… with Conditions

For years we have advocated greater transparency among family members when addressing issues, such as:
— the location of a parent’s will and other important documents;
— how a parent intends to bequeath her assets;
— whom the parent designates as executor of his will and his powers of attorney;
— the terms of their living will and who will make healthcare decisions for them should they lack capacity to voice their preferences; and where they would reside if they can no longer live independently.

We consistently urge parents to share this information with ALL their adult children. No exceptions. To exclude an adult child risks troubled relations among their children long after they’ve left this life for the next.

Worthy counsel indeed. But let’s remember that transparency is not an end in itself. The goal is family harmony, ensuring adult children understand their parents’ wishes, that they are willing to take the helm if a crisis affects their parents’ well-being, and honoring their wishes should they suffer a life threatening illness.

But what happens if these good intentions go awry? What if an adult child resents that another of his siblings is named financial power of attorney? Or a family member objects to an older adult’s aging in place rather than entering assisted living? Or a sibling takes issue with a parent who opts for hospice care rather than undergo high-risk medical treatment for a chronic illness?

[Read more…]

We’d like to share an article written by Carolyn, and published in this month’s Redbud Post, which reflects on the life-long nature of parenting.

Parenting: A Life-Long Calling

When my girls were tiny Jerry and I cherished every new miracle. The first baby tooth! Eating finger food! Crawling, walking brought applause and cheers. I loved watching their little minds work as they began to talk and figure out new experiences. (At first sight of Georgia clay, two-year-old Dede sang out, “Look, Mommy! Sunburned dirt!”) We were starved for sleep but filled with awe, wonder, and gratitude.

Their school years flash across my vision in stop-time photography. Trish in her ballet tutu. Kim sprawled on the floor, pen in hand, fingers flying across the paper creating edgy cartoons. Dede shyly offering me her gift of a pair of gargoyles—mugs she designed and created from potter’s clay. They’re on my desk as I write and never fail to evoke a smile.

Read the entire article on the Redbud Post.