I’m Not Sure I Want to Attend a Caregiver’s Support Group
February 25, 2009 by carolodell
Filed under Alzheimers, Caregiver Stress, Carol O'Dell, Contributing Authors, Featured Articles, Uncategorized
I have to admit that I didn’t attend a caregiver support group while I was caring for my mom.
Not everyone is the “group” type.
I started full time caregiving back in 1998 and honestly, I didn’t even know caregiving support groups existed. I had decided that it wasn’t going to be to go and talk about my mother! Yeah, I’m stubborn.
By the time I figured out my way in “caregiving land,” my mom was pretty far along. It’s not that I didn’t need a support group. I’m sure my friends were sick of my griping and whining.
But honestly, what little energy and thought I had were used to continue to parent my children.
In addition to my mom’s meds, physical therapy, and every day needs, I also had to think about SAT prep, teaching my youngest how to drive, helping another study for a big test, making sure they attended a youth group–and my spare time was spent driving them or making sure they got to their activities.
And that’s the way it should be–that’s what it’s like to be a sandwich generation parent. Juggling needs.
But now I know now that it would have benefited me greatly to attend a workshop, conference or support group–at least a couple of times a year.
Caregiver Support Groups Help By:
- Giving you a safe place to vent
- To know you’re not alone
- To find out about your community’s resources
- To make short and long term plans
- Helping you understand what part of the journey you’re on
- To give you validation and permission to feel all that you’re feeling
I encourage you to do a bit of Internet browsing and find out what’s available for you–almost every city and county offers something–an Alzheimer’s Association meeting, an American Heart Association gathering, stroke group meeting or a hospice based workshop.
I also realize I had an aversion to caregiving groups because I didn’t want to face the reality that I was a caregiver. I didn’t want to slap that on a name tag. I was in my late 30s when I crossed that line from being just my mother’s daughter to also being her caregiver.
If You Do Attend a Group or Workshop, Make It Worth Your While:
- Talking to someone while you’re there and even exchanging email addresses or phone numbers
- Ask a question–chances are if you don’t know the answer, others don’t know it either–and would really appreciate your candor
- Get info, lots of info–and follow up, make some calls or check out various groups on the web
- Many home health organizations attend these workshops–you could find some great resources, so look around
- Begin to take pride in your caregiver’s “badge of honor.” Get educated. Help others. Be okay that this is who you are and where you are–for now.
The good news is, you can accomplish a lot of this online. There are chat rooms, forums, and even online workshops–so even if you’re an introvert, you can sit in your PJs and find a caregiving buddy as well as access to lots of resources–all online.
Go on, type in caregiver support group and the name of your city or area. Find out what’s available.
Join an online group, or just call up a good friend–caregiving support has many faces.
Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir
Creating Memorial Services with Heart, Part of the Caregiving Journey
February 20, 2009 by carolodell
Filed under Caregiver Stress, Carol O'Dell, Contributing Authors, Featured Articles, Grief and Loss, Uncategorized
Creating a meaningful memorial service for your loved one is cathartic, and you don’t have to wait until your loved one passes to begin to think about what they–and you–want and need.
It’s a part of caregiving you’d rather not thnk about, but it’s the last thing you can do to honor their wishes and gather everyone around to reminisce, consol each other, and share precious memories.
Planning funerals and/or memorial services takes time, and you’d rather spend those last few weeks and days your loved one has on earth at their side.
You may find that planning your loved one’s memorial service feels good in a way. It’s proacive. It’s exercising a little bit of control, and it feels good to honor the one you love. Don’t feel like you’re giving into death, and only do as much or as little as feels right to you.
Have you and your loved one talked about cremation or burial?
Even if you choose cremation, there are options. For some families, talking about this, even with the loved one who is dying is somehow relieving. It feels good (in a strange way) to make one last decision together.
Here are some tips to help you create a meaningful service:
- Spend a few minutes envisioning what you’d like a memorial service to look and feel like–try to write or verbalize this to someone and then trust that the elements that make it unique will come to you.
- Pick a location for the service. Consider many options–while funeral homes and churches are many people’s choice, don’t discount other settings such as parks, a favorite restaurant, someone’s home, or a community center.
- If someone wants to help, ask them to start going through photographs, awards, special momentos that could be displayed or used in various ways.
- Consider different options as to use these photos and momentos–as a powerpoint/video shown at the service and set to music, displayed on a table, blown up as a centerpiece–one that really captures their joy, personality, or achievement (such as a military picture, family shot, etc.).
- Don’t forget that you can use movie clips, home movies or favorite movies–again, let someone else do this type of legwork.
- Have other family members think about music–you don’t have to go with traditional, you can incorporate rock, pop, country…whatever they loved. You can use this music as people enter, in the service, or as a part of the powerpoint.
- Start thinking about a poem, song lyrics, a funny saying your loved one used all the time. This can be used on the video and on the program.
- Let others start laying out the program–photos, a song or poem, a list of family members, a short funny/touching story, and other information can start being gathered.
If you choose to scatter your loved one’s ashes at sea, from an airplane or other location, then make a few calls. Depending on where you live, you may have to wait for this portion until later. There are also laws regarding this practice, and there are companies (charter boats, etc.) who can assist you with this.
One of the most beautiful services I’ve ever attended was on a sailboat with just a handful of loved ones. Someone played the guitar and his wife scattered his ashes behind the boat at sunset and his sister broke rose petals on the water at the same time. It was truly touching.
- Decide if this is a somber/grieving occasion. It’s okay either way. Sometimes it’s just heartbreaking–our loved ones suffer before they pass, or it’s way too soon. It’s perfectly okay to gather to cry, hug, and hold each other.
- You can have a funeral type service soon after they die, and a memorial service months or even a year later–after the initial hurt and shock has worn off.
- For others, this is a sweet, playful time. Make it your own and reflective of your relationship. Hire an Irish band, do whatever is right for you.
- Know that you can’t please others. Don’t get caught up in this vortex. Don’t even listen to the snide comments–and trust me, there will be some. Your family and friends will just have to understand. Let them talk, if they must. This is one time when you need to follow your heart.
- Ask someone who needs a job to do to contact out of town relatives and friends and let them know that your loved one may be passing soon.
- If you do decide on more of a memorial/celebration type gathering, then let people know. Some families prefer people to wear colorful clothing, that joyful music will be played and people are encouraged to share humorous stories. It’s helpful to let people know this so that they respond properly.
- If you’d like to forego flowers, then begin to think of charities that people can donate to–but do some research and offer website or address info that can be placed on the program or sent by email.
There are no rules. Create a memorial service with heart. There’s nothing more healing than to celebrate your loved one, your life together, and all that they mean to you.
~Carol O’Dell, Author, Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir
- E-vites to the service is totally acceptable and a great way to contact people without trying to make a zillion calls. Again, a great job for someone who wants to help.
- Be aware that you may have a “dry run.” By that I mean that your loved one could rally around again. Don’t be surprised if this happens. After you let everyone know, get all sad, start to make arrangements–and then they seem to get better. (My mom did this and I felt kind of foolish). This is common, and in general don’t expect them to miraciously get better. This is often temporary, but of course no one can know for sure. All the work and prep you did can be put on hold and if you’re fortunate enough to have a few more days, hours, weeks, or months with your loved one–then of course, it’s a good thing.
- Many families and cultures have a dinner of sorts after the service. For some families, they like to get creative–I heard of one in Atlanta catered by the famous Varsity restaurant. The lady passing already planned and paid for it–and it was such a send off for her loved ones, and such a relief. Most people do something in someone’s home–a potluck. The point is, you get to choose–do anything you want. Cater it, serve deli sandwiches, serve filet mignon–doesn’t matter, just do what fits you and the occasion.
- Another special touch is to give attendees momentos–I heard of one funeral in which everyone received a baseball cap from the collection of hat’s the father left. What a better use of a collection that to share it with those he loved!
- Be aware that funeral/memorial services are people’s business, but it’s your time of grief. If you have a budget, then let them know up front that you have a maximum you will spend. Don’t get suckered in by allowing someone to use your emotions. While you want to make this special, you don’t want to pay for it for years to come.
Let people help, but don’t let them take over. You have the ace card, and if you need to be firm or difficult, you’ll be forgiven. You can’t possibly do all this alone. You’re going to have to let go of some of your perfectionist tendencies (and we all have them), and let others pitch in to make this day special.
State clearly what you and your loved one want, but then let others deal with the details. Creating a funeral or memorial service with meaning takes thought–and heart–and it’s part of the healing process of the caregiving journey.
Alzheimer’s and Violence, “I Don’t Want Anyone to Know How Bad It Is”
February 10, 2009 by carolodell
Filed under Caregiver Stress, Carol O'Dell, Contributing Authors, Featured Articles, Grief and Loss, Uncategorized
Have you stopped having people come into your home because you don’t want them to see your dad/husband or wife “that way?” Are you hiding awful it really is?
Alzheimer’s, Lewy Body, dementia and other neurological based diseases affect the brain in different ways. Some individuals become docile, too docile. They stop talking, and pretty much stop moving. For others, Alzheimer’s turns them into a fidget machine. They pace incessantly, talk, babble, rant, need next to no sleep, and when forced to sit, their knee jiggles non-stop. Others are paranoid and will lash out at anyone who tries to touch them–it’s as if their brain–and body–is on fire.
And for some, Alzheimer’s makes them anxious, mean, and violent. There’s no other way to put it.
According to a recent study conducted by the Journal of the American Medical Association s of resident-to-resident violence in Massachusetts nursing homes and dementia special-care units, researchers found that about 25 percent of the dementia population in a care facility had violent tendencies.
More and more law suits are cropping up because staff and patients are being attacked, and resulting in physical injuries such as fractures, dislocations, and lacerations.
They curse when before the disease they were practically saints. They use vile language that would shock and embarrass a sailor, and their eyes look as if they could kill you in your sleep. For many, their violence is more of a protective mechanism. They may thrash, hit, try to bite if they feel cornered, yell, cry. It’s more exhausting and embarrassing than harmful. They act like really big two year old.
In all of these cases, Alzeimer’s effects each brain differently. You have to think of it as a chemical reaction, not a persoanl decision.
And then, there are the truly violent . Their rage is unpredictable and unprovoked. They slap, bite, kick, pinch, and for a few, and surprisingly, they possess the power to break bones, knock someone down, and are truly dangerous.Many are placed in care facilities because their families can’t handle it. Their families don’t visit as often because they’re scared. They feel as if their loved one is dead to them, and yet they struggle with guilt every single day. It’s an awful existance for everyone involved.
It’s that interum time that I’m addressing–when you’re starting to notice some anger–gritting teeth, cursing, grabbing your wrist really hard, knowing you against the wall–and you don’t know how far this will go. You make excuses. You provoked it. You shouldn’t have confronted them. They’re not taking their meds. It only happened once…these are just a few excuses we create to “protect” our loved one.
I urge you to speak to your doctor now.
For some, an added medication that stabalizes their mood (and yes, it may make them lethargic) can curtail their violence. It doesn’t work with everyone, but if you catch it early, it just might work.
For many, particularly spouses, you hide these changes in behavior from your children, your neighbors, your friends.
You stop having people over. You wear long sleeves to cover bruises.
You’re afraid all the time. More afraid they’ll take your husband or wife away than that you’ll be hurt.
You can handle it–is your rationalization–but the guilt, the shame, the thought of being separated is what keeps you silent.
You grieve the death of your marriage, of the life you had–and yet, you can tell no one what you’re going through.
You don’t want anyone to “see” your husband, your wife this way. You want to preserve their dignity.
I understand. I did this with (or for) my mom. I shielded her from the world. I didn’t let people know how chaotic, out of control, scary and heartbreaking it really was. I let her dig her fingernails into my arm and scream at me, her eyes so wild I didn’t even recognize my mother any more. If I would do this for my mother, I can truly understand how a husband or wife would be wiling to do even more.
But here’s what I came to realize:
This is a disease. No one will judge you or your spouse–and if they do, they just don’t understand what’s happening.
Your loved one can not help this. This isn’t their “inner self” or what they’ve been thinking all along. You didn’t contribute to this either. It just is.
It really is nobody’s business and you don’t have to share it with everyone, but having at least one confidence, one dear friend or your clergy can help lighten your heart.
You know those statistics about caregiver stress and how many caregivers die before their loved one? They’re talking about you!
You’ fall into that category big time. All this stress could lead to depression, heart disease, obesity, and strokes–and you know your loved one wouldn’t want this for you.
You are not alone.
Sometimes, you just can’t do it anymore. You feel that you’re in a living hell.
This is a truly dangerous state and you have to ask for help.
With guidance, you can find a good care facility that has a low patient to care staff ratio and administers the proper medications needed to lessen the violent outbursts. I know you don’t want to “dope” your loved one. But you can’t continue to be hurt, or risk that for others.
This disease can get really ugly, and if you’re in this situation, I am so, so sorry–but please, don’t suffer alone.
That’s not love, and your loved one wouldn’t want this for you.
Screw what your family would think, what they neighbors will think. Protect yourself and know that asking for help is the right thing to do.
I can’t promise you that you and your spouse can stay together–in the house. I can’t promise you that this is going to all magically get better.
Sometimes we really do have to grieve and let go–knowing that you’ll never get back what you had.
But I promise that while it’s going to be hard–and lonely—and you’ll probably feel guilty–after a time, things will get better.
Your loved one’s care might be better managed with help. And although your life won’t be the same, it can be good. A new good. A different good.
If you’re experiencing Alzheimer’s, Lewy Body or dementia related behavioral changes (violence or otherwise), please consider calling the Alzheimer’s Association National Hot line. It’s confidential and you can speak to someone who really cares. The number is: tel: 1.800.272.3900
~Carol O’Dell, author of Mothering Mother
“Don’t Leave Me Here Without You!” Why Caregiving Your Spouse Is So Difficult
February 4, 2009 by carolodell
Filed under Alzheimers, Caregiver Stress, Carol O'Dell, Contributing Authors, Featured Articles, Grief and Loss, Uncategorized
For many of us, caregiving a spouse is in our future. We like to not think about it, or at least imagine that it’s a long, long time from now. For many, it’s a daily reality.
Why does caregiving my spouse scare the bejezus out of me and most everybody else?
Because my husband is my strength, my rock, the person I can rail against, nag, complain about–but would never want to do without.
Even when he gets the flu, I’m a wreck. I’m projecting into the future, seeing him years from now, weak, and me trying to care for him.
He’s 9 inches taller than me and about 60 pounds heavier than me, and the few times he’s had minor surgery, I’ve seen how difficult it is.
But that’s not it. We’d find a way to make it work.
It’s not that it’ll be hard, exhausting, or challenging. I cared for my mom through Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. I’m no wimp.
Here are some of the reasons I came up with. I’ll vent and you pick the one that best fits you:
(some of them don’t paint me in a good light, but I’m being a guinea pig here so that we can all identify with our less than admirable selves)
I don’t want to become his “”mother.” (By that, I mean I want to remain his wife, lover, and friend).
I don’t want to be stuck by his side 24/7–I’m very independent.
I don’t want him to be weak–for me, or him. He’ll hate that.
If you’re sick, then I have to be well? What if I get sick?
Who am I now? How do I define myself?
I don’t want him to order me around all the time–and he will. I don’t want to fight all the time.
I don’t want to cry all the time either.
I don’t want him saying “thank you” a gazillion times a day and feeling guilty.
I don’t want it to be over.
I don’t want to watch him /her slowly die.
I don’t think I can manage our life/finances/home without him.
I don’t want the fun times to be over–the trips, the banter, the ordinary days.
I don’t want our world to grow small, isolated, and lonely.
I don’t want our world to revolve around doctors and medicine.
I don’t want that time to come when I can’t make him smile.
****
This just starts the list. No one wants any of these things. But until we can admit them, I’m not sure we can move on.
I know that the next step is to take this list and turn it into a WANT list, find the good in whatever life throws me.
I was at a talk for Community Hospice on Saturday at the Mary Singleton Senior Center in Jacksonville, Florida where I told this crazy story about a time when my husband passed out at an amusement park. He said he was dizzy, grabbed his neck and fell stiff as a board onto the gravel road.
I freaked. I thought he died. And you want to know that first fleeting thought?
“You…(I’ll leave out the colorful phrase), you have died–died and left me to raise three kids? Alone?
I then began to pound on his chest (not CPR, even though I was trained) and yell in his face “Help!” What? As if HE could help us? I did it over and over.
Thank goodness, he started to come to, and then I had another thought…”He’s a narcoleptic! He’s going to be conking out all the time!”
I swear, I followed him, walking three feet behind him like some antiquated Japanese woman (did they ever really do that???) for the next two years.
As if I could catch him.
***
That true but embarrassing example is a light-hearted version of what wives and husbands feel everywhere.
Deep inside we’re all screaming, “Don’t leave me here without you!”
Spousal caregiving kicks up a lot of emotions. Some sweet and sentimental, some down right self-serving.
The only thing I can offer is:
- Talk, talk often. Get used to this conversation so that if something awful happens, you’ll have practiced. Kid around, make jokes, talk about the “what ifs.” Nothing is as scary as an unsaid fear.
- Tell your loved ones how you want to be cared for. Please, for your family and spouse, sign a living will. They are so, so easy. Go to The Five Wishes and request one or print one out. Don’t make your family guess and then fight or feel guilty because they didn’t know what you wanted–or they all heard something different.
- Have health insurance, life insurance and long term disability or care insurance. I know the economy is tough, but try to keep these, or seek a governmental equivalent (for health insurance if you qualify). Murphy (as in Murphy’s Law) likes to strike the second you’re unprotected, and caregiving is tough enough without adding the stress of finances.
If You’re Already Caregiving:
- Be present. Each day is precious. Even if it’s hard, chaotic, or near the end, it’s a privilege.
- Keep your blinders on when you need to. There’s a time to think about the future, and a time when this moment, this hour, is all you can deal with. When times get rough, make your life simple, quiet, and don’t go to all those scary places. It’s not the time.
- Never stop being a spouse. I know that caregiving is a lot of “doing.” Meds, baths, physical therapy, doctor appointments, home health aids…after a while you can forget you’re a married couple. Never ever forget that this is the person you said ” I do” with. At times we have to force ourselves to step out of “Nurse Nightingale (or Nurse Ratchett’s) position and step back into that role that no one, no one but you can fulfill. You’re his sweetheart. You’re her sweetheart.
- Give up being perfect. It’s exhausting and impossible. It’s the quirks, the foibles, and the fights that define us. Do the best you can. Forgive yourself when you lose your temper, forget something important, or just can’t do it all. Look yourself in the mirror each night and say out loud, “You did well today. I’m proud of you.”
- Trust that as grueling and dark as it is, you will find the strength, you will find your way through spousal caregiving. Somehow.
***
Caregiving a spouse is so hard. Why? Simple. Because we love them.
At the end of my talk, a very sweet woman purchased my book and asked me to sign it. She could hardly talk, she was crying so. Her husband of 54 years has Alzheimer’s. I held her and cried too.
I try to give tips and I try to encourage, but I can never convey how deeply I care. Your stories touch my heart, and sometimes, all the advice in the world won’t be enough.
Caregiving our spouses may be the hardest, and the sweetest thing we ever have to do.
I’m Carol O’Dell, author of Mothering Mother



