Journaling Helps Caregivers Cope--and May Even Lead to a New Passion

When I became caregiver for my father I was 38 years old, newly separated with 4 children 12 years and under and worked part time. Talk about stress!!! My mother had passed when I was 19 years old and my dad's second wife had deserted him while he was in the hospital after suffering a stoke. My sister lived in Europe and my brother announced that he would not take care of him because he did that 5 years earlier when he was separated from his second wife the first time and had no place to go. So quess what? I was the prize winner. The reality was that when my brother had my dad 5 years ago he was still working, not ill and it was for a whole 2 weeks! My brother (who lived in the same town as the rehab center)informed me that my father was able to do a lot of things himself, like go up and down steps, shower, dress himself, etc. But when I went to the rehab center to talk to the physicians and nurses the day I was to bring him to my home was a real eye opener. Yes, he could do all of those things, but only with the help of nurses. You could imagine how devastated I felt. My concern with stairs was because of the fact that I lived in a bilevel that's full of stairs! So now I find out that he needs constant attention and help with just about everything the day I'm bringing him home! I was overwhelmed to say the least. I wasn't sure what to do first. I choose to panic. While the hospital was preparing for my father to be discharged, I ventured outside and sat on a bench just staring into space. I was feeling all sorts of emotions. One was anger with my brother that he wasn't honest with me. Two, how am I going to take care of him when I have to work a few days a week, have 4 kids to tend to between after school activities and such and everything else that goes along with child rearing. A nurse must have spotted me looking terrified and came outside to talk to me. She tried to reassure me that everything will be ok. She gave me a number to call in my area for help. Thank god for that because that is what saved me from running for the hills. I can't remember what agency it was, but through them I was able to have someone come in and handicap my two bathrooms for free, arrange for Meals On Wheels and arrange for a nurse to come a few days a week just for an hour or so. My dad was retired and on a fixed income and with me being newly divorced my available funds were limited to say the least. What I hadn't anticipated was all of the doctor appointments I'd be taking him to. Eye doctor, cardiologist, internists, therapist, dentist. The list was endless. And it seemed a daily event. Juggling my dad's appointments with my childrens activities and needs was the hardest thing. Oh and of course those weekly visits to the hospital because he decided he didn't want to take his water pill anymore. I had to put all of his medications in color coded cups because he couldn't read the prescription bottles. The one thing I was greatful for was that he wouldn't let me shower him or change his Depends. Thank god for small favors. My goal was to rehabilitate him to the point where he could live on his own. It took 4 months, and a lot of work but I did it. In those four months there were some good that came out of it other then getting him back on his feet. He got to know my children better. Which by the way he didn't know their names when he first arrived. My satisfaction was that we had it out at one point and I was able to discuss (I use that word loosely) with him the things that always bothered me that I kept bottled up inside. I guess the stress of everything just brought it all out of me. It was ugly there for a while that day and I felt the typical guilt you feel when you confront your parents for something that hurt you in the past, but we got passed it, hugged and walked away with a greater understanding of each other and our relationship was better because of it. He died 2 years later of a massive heart attack and thank god he wasn't alone when it happened. He was living in an assisted care home right on the ocean at the jersey shore, had breakfast that morning, walked from the kitchen into the living area and just died. It was very quick. It is not easy taking care of a parent. A lot of people I know are dealing with it now. It's been 12 years since I had that job and I feel for both the parents and the siblings. It's a very emotional time for everyone.