When sickness rears it's head, you really become aware of how much people love you. Your family, friends, and sometimes even strangers, rally around to send their love and well-wishes. But the caretaker is indeed the one that bears the brunt. The caretaker is there to make sure you got your meds, your comfortable, your eating, you can reach the remote control when it's like...just...rigghhht... there.
My husband, mother, and brother help me immensely.
My mother and brother take turns coming up for two weeks at a time. They leave their lives to take me to chemo, they do the grocery shopping with me and cook, help clean up. But beyond the tasks, they just provide much needed company when my husband goes to work (and a bit of peace of mind for him.) Each of them has their super-power too. My mom is positive and sweet, always looking to organize everything to be easier (even if I really don't want the black dresser in my closet and yes, I am planning to put more hangers in there, and please don't re-organize my wardrobe).
My brother doesn't ever wake up in time to make breakfast, but he has long, candid talks with me about the dark and ugly things that swirl in your head during these times. Getting those things out is cheap therapy, and his squeaky "I love you, sister!" is all I need some days to smile. When I was in the hospital, my brother spent long days and nights listening to my drug-induced rambling, handing me juice boxes, and even walking me to the bathroom and holding me steady. He did all of it with all the love and patience in the world.
My husband has endured the most though, he is here with me every day and night. He has to face the physical challenges, my emotions, as well as his. There are so many little things he keeps track of: He keeps an alarm on his phone to make sure I am eating consistently, he massages my hands and feet every day in the hopes it will keep the nerve damage away, he tests the water temperature before I can wash my hands so it doesn't hurt, and makes sure I take my anti-nausea pill exactly every 8 hours. He wakes up at 2 in the morning, pill and water in hand, to be sure I get it. At the hospital, when they gave me that jerk of a stoma, the ostomy nurse came in to teach us how to care for it. I remember how he asked all the questions, made sure he understood, and told me " Don't worry, I will always do this. You don't have to worry about it for as long as you have it." Every time he helps me with it, I feel tremendous gratitude that he can both help me deal with it and simultaneously, look past it. I wish they had a "Love Is" that said "Love is cleaning your spouses poop."
The people that care for loved ones during illness, they need just as much love and support as the person with the illness. It takes a lot of energy, strength, to selflessly give oneself over to the needs of another. To see them suffer and feel the impotence of not being able to fully help. I understand this, and it's a constant reminder that every glass of water handed to me is an act of love.
As I said at the start, friends, family, and even strangers, have made an impact. From chicken soup, to cards, GoFundMe donations, care packages with helpful things, and just plain understanding...all these things show that people care. And that makes such a tremendous difference.
My husband, mother, and brother help me immensely.
My mother and brother take turns coming up for two weeks at a time. They leave their lives to take me to chemo, they do the grocery shopping with me and cook, help clean up. But beyond the tasks, they just provide much needed company when my husband goes to work (and a bit of peace of mind for him.) Each of them has their super-power too. My mom is positive and sweet, always looking to organize everything to be easier (even if I really don't want the black dresser in my closet and yes, I am planning to put more hangers in there, and please don't re-organize my wardrobe).
My brother doesn't ever wake up in time to make breakfast, but he has long, candid talks with me about the dark and ugly things that swirl in your head during these times. Getting those things out is cheap therapy, and his squeaky "I love you, sister!" is all I need some days to smile. When I was in the hospital, my brother spent long days and nights listening to my drug-induced rambling, handing me juice boxes, and even walking me to the bathroom and holding me steady. He did all of it with all the love and patience in the world.
My husband has endured the most though, he is here with me every day and night. He has to face the physical challenges, my emotions, as well as his. There are so many little things he keeps track of: He keeps an alarm on his phone to make sure I am eating consistently, he massages my hands and feet every day in the hopes it will keep the nerve damage away, he tests the water temperature before I can wash my hands so it doesn't hurt, and makes sure I take my anti-nausea pill exactly every 8 hours. He wakes up at 2 in the morning, pill and water in hand, to be sure I get it. At the hospital, when they gave me that jerk of a stoma, the ostomy nurse came in to teach us how to care for it. I remember how he asked all the questions, made sure he understood, and told me " Don't worry, I will always do this. You don't have to worry about it for as long as you have it." Every time he helps me with it, I feel tremendous gratitude that he can both help me deal with it and simultaneously, look past it. I wish they had a "Love Is" that said "Love is cleaning your spouses poop."
 |
| That's alot of poop. |
The people that care for loved ones during illness, they need just as much love and support as the person with the illness. It takes a lot of energy, strength, to selflessly give oneself over to the needs of another. To see them suffer and feel the impotence of not being able to fully help. I understand this, and it's a constant reminder that every glass of water handed to me is an act of love.
As I said at the start, friends, family, and even strangers, have made an impact. From chicken soup, to cards, GoFundMe donations, care packages with helpful things, and just plain understanding...all these things show that people care. And that makes such a tremendous difference.
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