Ode to the Caregiver
I cried. I screamed. I cussed. She stayed. I wanted my mama. I called nurses names, then flirted with them. She stayed. The hazy memories started coming in and out. I knew she was there. Time passed and my mind began to clear. Everyday she came. Everyday, together, we learned the depth of the coming challenge.
She joined my therapists and I in rehab to learn some things to help me day to day once I went home: How to help me in and out of a car, how to get me up if I fell, you know, the usual stuff. We learned far more once I finally made it home. But, pride be damned, I swore to her she would never have to wipe my butt and she never has! Is that odd to mention? At the time that was a big step for me, so yea, it’s worth mentioning.
Helping with physical tasks is only a small part of being a caregiver for someone recovering from a brain tumor or spinal cord tumor. We deal with neurological and emotional issues also, such as depression, anger and the stages of mourning. I was left with a paralyzed left hand and severely weakened left side and as much as I try, it really pisses me off. My caregiver has put up with some serious rage and sadness and I’ve been a cry baby my whole life. I’m good at throwing fits.
It takes a strong soul to be a caregiver for someone going through so much. I’m fortunate to have one who isn’t afraid to tell me to shut up when I should and to call me out when I feel sorry for myself...and laugh hysterically when I need to laugh at myself. I have to remember, she has gone through this whole crazy experience by my side and has shared my pain and growth by choice. I had no choice...she did.
