I think that one of the unusual side effects of being a Carer is that is quite easy to forget about caring for oneself, one just tends to manage,to make do, because the focus is never internal, that is until exhaustion or sickness take over and it becomes a necessity.
People always tell me to "take care of myself" I must say most of the time it bothers me, not that their concern (which is often genuine) is misplaced, but that after a day of thinking, worrying, and being constantly attuned to someone else, It just seems like an impossible thing to do. I barely feel like I have the head space to think about myself, and then if I do I don't like focusing on the fact that my body is aching from the lifts of the day, so I get into what I call Catch 22 Head space.
Catch 22 Head Space is knowing that you need to do something for yourself, (like take a rest) giving yourself a valid reason not to do it, (it's selfish because the person your caring for has to wait) then feeling lousy that you didn't listen to yourself, (your back feels buggered and a break would have helped) this kind of thinking can be applied to all areas of life not just care work.
Aahhh guilt, you have to love it! and the joke is I believe it is mostly self imposed, I don't know any other carers but I think that this is a universal similarity, because as much as genuine kindness and love are motivating factors to being a carer, guilt is an enormously powerful one.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
When I choose my blog title I thought it might be a funny play on words, I'm a Carer.....who cares, lol sounds cliche now, never mind, I'm writing this in part to tell you what I do and in part to complain, not the generally accepted state of mind for me to be in, but really fun to explore when I'm writing.
I've been a carer for 17 years and I just turned 30, I always meet people who are pleased and full of compliments when I tell them what I do ( I sometimes wonder if this springs from a fear, flatter the carer we may need her one day:) as much as it is gratifying it's very tiring, mainly for me because it's my mother who I care for, so the immediate follow up question is "what happened?" this story I pretty much say word for word every time, till I realize I am numb and bored by relating it, even to kind people.
I'll tell you what happened later on.
A major part of care work I would describe as slop jobs, these are the jobs that you need to build up a strong stomach to do, if the person your caring for is totally dependent, toileting is the number one hurdle to jump over, it doesn't matter how good you are at it now, the first time is horrible, I was 14 and it was a fiasco, this will be my first story.
My dad was at work, and my auntie who lived with us left to go out with her boyfriend, so I was taking care of mum, not too long into it she told me she needed to go to the toilet, so I tried to call dad, but he was over an hour away, then tried to call my auntie but her phone was off, so in the middle of feeling furious at being stuck to do this, and panic,I put together a plan, I ran into the bedroom and pulled the mattress off the bed, dragged it into the living room and placed it next to her recliner, then I stripped the pillows off the coach and scattered them on the floor.
Mum was smiling vaguely at this commotion, I reached down to lift her trying to hook her arms around my back, and for about ten seconds we managed to balance, then we fell, ( I was 20 kilos lighter and she was on her tip toes, if we hadn't fallen it would have been a miracle!) so I gathered some garbage bags and towels and rolled them under mum, figuring I could just soak up whatever she did, ha ha, I hadn't thought about her moving her bowels, they where flying out like pebbles and I was running around like a chook without a head, being faced not only with a mess, but the first time no one to help me out, so I called dad yelling at him and trying to clean her up the best I could, oh god, it took forever, over an hour later it was over, I was exhausted, but mum was clean and comfortable lying on the mattress propped up watching Bonanza, and I flopped on the couch fairly shook up, but aware that in a way, I had jumped the hurdle, even if we had fallen on the way.
I've been a carer for 17 years and I just turned 30, I always meet people who are pleased and full of compliments when I tell them what I do ( I sometimes wonder if this springs from a fear, flatter the carer we may need her one day:) as much as it is gratifying it's very tiring, mainly for me because it's my mother who I care for, so the immediate follow up question is "what happened?" this story I pretty much say word for word every time, till I realize I am numb and bored by relating it, even to kind people.
I'll tell you what happened later on.
A major part of care work I would describe as slop jobs, these are the jobs that you need to build up a strong stomach to do, if the person your caring for is totally dependent, toileting is the number one hurdle to jump over, it doesn't matter how good you are at it now, the first time is horrible, I was 14 and it was a fiasco, this will be my first story.
My dad was at work, and my auntie who lived with us left to go out with her boyfriend, so I was taking care of mum, not too long into it she told me she needed to go to the toilet, so I tried to call dad, but he was over an hour away, then tried to call my auntie but her phone was off, so in the middle of feeling furious at being stuck to do this, and panic,I put together a plan, I ran into the bedroom and pulled the mattress off the bed, dragged it into the living room and placed it next to her recliner, then I stripped the pillows off the coach and scattered them on the floor.
Mum was smiling vaguely at this commotion, I reached down to lift her trying to hook her arms around my back, and for about ten seconds we managed to balance, then we fell, ( I was 20 kilos lighter and she was on her tip toes, if we hadn't fallen it would have been a miracle!) so I gathered some garbage bags and towels and rolled them under mum, figuring I could just soak up whatever she did, ha ha, I hadn't thought about her moving her bowels, they where flying out like pebbles and I was running around like a chook without a head, being faced not only with a mess, but the first time no one to help me out, so I called dad yelling at him and trying to clean her up the best I could, oh god, it took forever, over an hour later it was over, I was exhausted, but mum was clean and comfortable lying on the mattress propped up watching Bonanza, and I flopped on the couch fairly shook up, but aware that in a way, I had jumped the hurdle, even if we had fallen on the way.
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