Wednesday, December 23, 2015

CAREGIVER DIARIES: WATER





















My Uber driver said she had been caring for her 94 year-old mother for thirty years. 
She said her siblings thought that their almost daily telephone calls were sufficient assistance to her. "We call every day", she said, mocking her siblings. "They act like that's doing something! Now it's my turn to call. See how they feel about that." 

She said she'd recently phoned her brother to tell him she was sending their mother to him. 
She said her mother had only been with her brother for two weeks before he was phoning her and crying about the burden. 
"You gotta take her back!" Apparently, he and his significant other had plans that were consistently being thwarted by their mother’s ailments. 
"Then you better change them plans!" she said. 
Her brother told her he didn't know that caring for their mother would be such a handful. 
She said she thought it was great that he was getting to experience the cantankerousness and difficulty she'd endured for so long. 
She said he told her he was putting their mother on a bus back to Maryland. "Then prepare to die, 'cause I'm gonna kill you! Don't you put my mama on no bus!", she laughed. 

She said she would be traveling to southern Virginia for Christmas.
 "I'm going to go spend some time with her". 
Dad laughed, and chimed in. "You're going to get in your car to leave after Christmas, and all your mama's stuff is gonna be in it." She laughed again,  then said, "Oh Lord! Maybe I shouldn't go! No. I'm going. I'm just going to keep my car doors locked!"

I'm amazed that practically every Uber and Lyft driver I’ve had either was, or is currently a caregiver. 
They all said that they loved their driving job. They enjoyed the freedom it provided. They all said it gets them out of the house, and affords them an opportunity to exhale, think, meet and talk to new people, and experience a change of scenery.

I hated what I saw and heard when Dad and I got to his doctor's office. 
An elderly lady was talking to her caregiver in a tone that would have made even the most tolerant person leave her there to fend for herself. 
She glared at her caregiver as if she hated her. 
"Didn't you hear me calling you?!" 
Her tone was embarrassing. 
The caregiver had stepped out to go to the restroom. The elderly lady tried to get support from the rest of us as she complained about one thing after another. 
She shoved her coat and scarf at her caregiver. She didn't ask her to hold them. 

I was studying the caregiver's face. She was tired. She endured one dig after another. 
I was impressed by her silence, but it was loud. 

Maybe the notion that people are most abusive to the people who are doing the most for them, is more common than I imagined. 

When the caregiver did speak, what she had to say left everyone, including her elderly aunt, speechless. 
I guess she'd had enough.
"I'm the only one who help her! She got three sons and two daughters. They too busy, or just don't wanna do it! She don't fuss at them 'cause she afraid they won't come around no more, so she take it out on me. I don't take it personal no more. If it makes her feel better doggin' me, whatever. She need help, so im’a help her. That's my mama sister, but if it's somebody else she think can do better than me, she need to call 'em". 

The caregiver went back to reading her magazine. She'd been reduced to defending herself to a room of strangers. 
The aunt just put her hands in her lap and stared off into the distance. It was as if she was wounded. "See? See how she talks to me?" 
Too bad she wasn't willing or able to hear herself.


I don't know who decided there was a cut off age for courtesy, respect and consideration. 
Longevity is not a pass to be rude or abusive. 
People who dish out venom generally can't take it, in any dosage, especially if it's the truth and served by someone they don't respect in the first place.

Funny. There's something about the presence of others that causes some ailing people to perform. Suddenly they don't need help. They speak more forcefully and clearer. 
"Oh look! Somebody else is here. Let me show them how little I regard my caregiver!" 

In the company of others--strangers, even-- an arrogant, critical spirit appears that revels in embarrassing and minimizing the efforts of those who provide service day in and day out. Someone shows up, and in an instant, those who've been there all the time, get dragged into some weird show of bravado, and are expected to sheepishly participate. 
What makes anyone think it's smart to publicly dog the people they have to depend upon, and celebrate those who do nothing?

If one is truly in charge, on top of one's game, in control, or possession isn't it obvious? 
Does one need to boast, bark orders, or demean those on whom one depends, or show others how little one regards those who are committed? 
Is that ever necessary? 

When the sporadically appearing friends and family, and the strangers go away, with their minds full of false impressions, who remains? The consistent people, that's who. 
Their minds are full of the truth. They know the extent and severity of what's really going on, which soon becomes the primary reason why they stay. 
The ailment eclipses the relationship. 
The caregiver knows what happens, and what must be done on a daily basis. 
They know because they're there
They get really tired of having to do reputation damage control, so they begin to speak up. 
Then it gets quiet. 
Then they're labeled unfriendly, rude, or cold...and they don't care. What they deal with each day, overrules what busybodies think. It even blocks out what the ailing person viciously and thoughtlessly says in often frustrating attempts at dealing with their own mortality.

It is never wise, however, to ever attempt to humiliate or debase the person on the job who has demonstrated genuine care, competence, dedication and consistency. It is a piss poor way to make oneself feel better. 

Don't ever speak disparagingly about the people who are truly helping. Definitely don't do it in the presence of strangers. Certainly don't do it for the amusement of those who are frequently missing in action. One may find oneself left in the incapable and unwilling hands of those do-nothings.

As I listened to the lady talk about her caregiver as if she wasn't there, and watched the caregiver take frequent deep breaths, I wondered, why do some treat strangers and fair-weather folk better than they treat their own? 
Is it a sign of loneliness? 
Is it some bizarre proof of friendship? 
Does it tell a person that they're not truly alone in the world; that someone was thinking about them? Does it make them feel powerful? 
Even if all of that is so, is it then necessary to abuse one's caregiver? 

Somebody shows up, laments how terribly busy they've been (as if their busyness (or business) is unique). They say how sorry they are for being absent for so long, and they're forgiven and given a pass. They look to those who have been faithful, and expect to be greeted as if they're some messiah. The paltry time they carve out, and whatever trinket they throw (to shut the neglected person up and make them forget) is looked at as if it's a gift. Then, to add insult to injury, the person they've neglected turns to the people who've been consistent, and has the nerve to puff up; just get biggety, and act like they have no clue why the support they've been given was needed, present, or lasted for so long---that is, until the fair-weather folk, who are only good at showing their faces, go back to their fair-weather ways--which usually takes seconds. 
They trot off with their chests poked out, as if riding around and taking someone to KFC is something remarkable. They don't fancy getting their hands dirty, or making sacrifices. They're adept at making sporadic phone calls, pop ins, and drive-by's. So, who's left? The ones who cook, clean, iron, organize, run errands, sit at doctor's appointments, change dressings and catheter bags, administer meds, assist with hygiene, shop for groceries, do laundry, etc . 
If some are not careful, there will be NO one left--except maybe someone who won't have the burden of actually caring, and will fully expect a handsome salary.

Be careful how you treat your own. 
Be doubly careful how you treat those who are faithful. Don't dare attempt to act brand new in the face of the faithful, certainly not to prove anything to those who never will be.

Many people are experiencing thirst and drought, not because there is no supply, but because they kept tripping up the person who was faithfully bringing them potable WATER .

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