I survived Hell week – barely. Taking care of Mom has been more exhausting than I realized. And the exhaustion comes in an emotional one more than physical.
I mean I have no problem changing the linens, wiping the commode, changing her diapers, bathing her eyes, bringing her meals, scheduling her appointments and taking her to them, ordering her meds and managing them – all the things I as her caregiver did.
No, those were the easy things. The exhaustion came in when dealing with her wild mood swings, extreme anxiety, handling being ignored when I was late to take care of her needs. All of this piles up over time if in your heart of hearts all you want to do is “fix” and make better.
When is enough? How do you know when to say no and mean it? Who is in charge of deciding how long to take care of a loved one in their time of need? The answer is different for each person. I can’t tell you how I know it was time to leave Mom in the long term care facility. I know I have struggled with my own guilt for not sticking it out yet knowing I only had so much to give.
I read not long ago that caregivers are at the top of the list of those suffering from job related depression. Nurses, aids, doctors, and in home care givers (like me) are some of the most stressed and depressed individuals and it doesn’t take a degree to understand why.
It is normal to become empathetic, to take on the pains of your patient. It takes a special individual to be compassionate and yet remain aloof. As a Christian I often wonder how Jesus could maintain a calm, compassionate heart when so much suffering was all around him. His purely human and God heart reached out to the pains of his fellow man and touched and healed.
But something Jesus also did was heal the true pain deep inside. His calm peaceful spirit brought health to the human soul. I am not talking about salvation – that is another subject. I imagine that not everyone in the crowd that came in contact with him was saved. And not everyone in the crowd around him was healed.
Forgive my rambling but I needed to know that part of healing must come from the one being healed. It isn’t my job to fix Mom – I cannot undo many years of bad decisions that are now coming to a head in her life. For a time I could bring her food, wash her linens, bathe her, etc. But it was getting to be too much for me to handle on top of caring for my own family and home. I can’t do it for her anymore and I need to know that that is OK.
Really what I need to do is stop trying to be Jesus, her healer. Yes, she is a believer and she is looking forward to eternity with him. But her self inflicted pains both mental and physical overshadow her faith and her constant anxiety leaves her a mess. I thought I could help her and I have in many ways but it is up to God to heal her now.
Caregivers get depressed because their patient can’t or won’t get well. I am learning that I have to let that go. It is my job to take care of the physical needs as far as I am able and to offer encouragement as I see the need.
And that is enough. It isn’t my job to fix. That part is up to the person and their Creator.