CAREGIVER DIARIES: SPEAK UP

When they want something, are running low on cash, can't pay for their utility bills, car notes, roof repairs; want spending money for trips, bail, clothes, gas, plane tickets, free meals, etc., the phone rings--early and often. Today was no exception. 

I let it ring. 

It's not for me, anyway, and thankfully my wise dad is getting wiser. 

My brother is in town, and is giving me a break this morning, and I appreciate it. 

Today is truly a new day.

Late Thursday night, I watched author, A. Michael Bloom's YouTube interview concerning care giving. 

He said, "There's no clarity to the role. You jump in...you do it...then you kinda work it out along the way." 
Every word he said resonated. Just the thought that someone, even a stranger, understands your plight, is a godsend. Watching it was prophetic. 

It prepared me for yesterday.

For me, the sickness and household responsibilities are a piece of cake. 

The busybodies in my dad's life, were what was threatening to make me rethink my decision to be here. 

There's nothing like a live-in caregiver to throw a monkey wrench in the plots and plans of users and opportunists, looking to take advantage of a seasoned citizen. 

I swear. Some people must really think I'm here re-enacting scenes from "Misery".

Them: "You need some help. You don't need to be here alone."

Him: "I have help. My daughter is here."

Them: "Oh, I don't mean your daughter."

What the actual hell?

Naturally, there won't be one thin dime coming along with their shady advice or suggestions. 

It's like the clowns who convinced my dad to buy a flip phone so they could have access to him (as if I was monitoring the home phone). 

He ended up with a bill for something he couldn't even use nor see. 
Not one of them has counted the cost of him hiring a team of people to come in and do what's been done, but they'd apparently rather see any crackhead serial killer here with him, than any one of his own children. 

I guess it is infuriating to have to find another seasoned patsy to take advantage of.

To some, as a caregiver, you're a problem. 

No matter how necessary your consistent presence is to the well-being of your loved one, some people who have had a history of being in your loved one's pockets and purses, would rather see them weak, alone, struggling, and helpless. 

It makes them an easier mark. 

If they think your loved one has unlimited resources, to which they can have access, they can be relentless in their attempts to destroy the unity of your family. 

Why, and how some people equate your role as a caregiver with "living the life of Riley", I will never know. 

I do believe some people think I'm getting, and have been getting paid! 

The notion that I'm here, not because I'm in debt or need a place to live, but because I care about my own father's well-being, must be too foreign to grasp!

Yesterday, I found out, for sure, who has been stirring up strife in my family, and which other imps have been willing accomplices. They've been doing it for years--even when my mother was alive. 

I'm disappointed, but not immobilized. 

I don't like how I felt yesterday, but at least I was neither intimidated nor afraid as I spoke. 

Venom, blame, and accusations were being hurled at me. I was being looked upon with hatred. 

I remember when I would have been devastated, teary-eyed, offended, and on my way out the door. 

Yesterday, I felt empowered and didn't back down. 

The truth is so powerful, and I spoke it, with authority and without apology. 

As a former teacher, and conscientious caregiver, I document everything. 

I'm thankful for the neatness and organization my mother instilled. Liars don't have a chance here any more.

I've watched silently as people have done and said things, in the hopes of destroying the unity my family. I didn't think I could do anything about it. 

My siblings and I have been accused of stealing from our father's accounts, taking valuables from his home, preventing him from seeing his friends, exaggerating the seriousness of his condition, neglecting to give him phone messages, withholding medical information, overspending on groceries, conspiring with doctors, signing forms concerning him without his consent, and even abandoning him. 

I will never forget the day someone rushed over here because they were told he was sick and alone. 

(People sure do stutter as they attempt to wipe egg off of their faces.) 

We've been maligned in every way, but whenever my dad needs help, the people who have gossiped the most are nowhere to be found.

As his primary, live-in caregiver, I have personally been accused of "taking over" and blocking him from having an intimate relationship with someone. 

It would take me and an army to block my dad from doing or acquiring what he wanted. 

If by "taking over" they mean cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing, nursing, hauling out trash, arranging transportation, taking calls, accounting, managing medications, running errands, etc., then I guess they're right. 

I'd be more than happy to relinquish several toilet brushes to them. 

I've been here, this time, since June 2015. 

Today, I realized I am not the same woman who left here in May of last year, when the last health scare was over, and he was determined he could go it alone. 

This time, putting up with busybodies is not on the agenda. 

I am here around the clock. No one sees what I see each day. 

I have very little patience for micro-managers, who have not so much as given my dad a glass of water, but think they have some stake in what happens here, and think they have authority over me, as if I'm some hired hand. 

I don't owe anyone an explanation, apology, schedule, or excuse for being a caregiver for my own father.

I thought that when my mother died, the incessant meddling would stop. It seems to have intensified with me as the new target. 

I often wished I knew how my mother coped. 

Now, I know. 

As lady-like as she was, she spoke up. She didn't bury stuff inside. She didn't give busybodies a pass. She didn't tolerate gossip.

Now I know who's been trying to run roughshod over my siblings and me. 

If they could poison my dad's mind, concerning his own children, they would. They almost succeeded. 

One had the nerve to ask me why I no longer answer her calls. (Caller ID is a wonderful thing).

People don't like hearing their own words, or seeing proof of their lies and schemes in your hands. They also do not like being told to mind their own business, when they've so long deluded themselves into thinking that your business was theirs.

I detest arguments. I don't fight. I used to flee from confrontation of any kind. 

It took too much out of me. Yesterday, once again, however, I pushed back. 

It's the third time this year that someone has mistaken me for a pushover. It's not their fault. I was one. 

Three times this year, I've confronted people who thought they could take advantage of my dad. 

That's a record for me, but I am done keeping quiet. 

I didn't have to curse or anything! I didn't run or cry. When your cause is just, you don't have to. 

There is clearly a need that shouldn't have to be explained. It's obvious why I'm here. 

Genuine people; true friends realize and respect that. 

No one understands like those who have been, or are currently caregivers themselves.

Since the first health scare in late 2005, I know who has been present, helpful, consistent, and prayerful. 

I know who has been missing in action, making excuses, and minimizing the medical scares. 

I also know who has hoped, schemed, and failed to be the next Mrs. Williams. They’re the most obvious and pitiful of them all. Dad called one of them a “dirt dauber”.

I know who sees him as a meal ticket, who thinks he has some authority to garner them a position at his church, who's been trying to move in, who was anticipating his funeral, and who thinks their annoying behavior is annoying enough to cause me to leave my dad here alone without help. Ain't gonna happen.

Speaking up and getting to the bottom of stuff, is refreshing, and so is being on the same page with your siblings. Our eyes are open, and we are united in a way we have never been before.

Speaking the truth to power (perceived or actual) is critical. 

Don't let anyone shut you up because you're telling the truth. 

Don't be swayed or intimidated by people who think they deserve consideration and respect, but show none to anyone. Don't be deterred by anyone's attempts to demean and demonize you because you won't bow or bend--or go away. 

Speak the truth. 

Say what you need to say.  

Protect your family members, particularly vulnerable seniors. 

Refuse to allow people to paint you with their brushes because you won't allow their foolishness, intrusion, and nosiness. 

Some people's mean-spirited, divisive, strife-loving ways must be stopped. 

They have to be told, without a single coating of sugar, how destructive their words and actions are. 

When people find that out their divide-and-conquer tactics are no longer effective; when they see that their bullying won't work; when you confront them with their own words, it's fascinating how quickly they'll leave you--and your family--alone. 

"If you see something, say something" is a good motto for caregivers, too. 

Say what you see with as much volume as necessary. Shut down every imp and their plots. 

Care giving is hard enough without having to put out the fires that busybodies kindle. Enjoy the unity of your family, and peace your home as you witness the restoration of your loved one's health. 

Environment is everything. Create one that promotes health for everyone involved. Don't abide toxic people.

You're a caregiver, not a punk. Don’t neglect yourself. You need care, too. You'd better believe it and make sure it happens, even if no one else does.