Since Kate’s diagnosis, I have read a lot of things written about caregiver stress. Some of this has come from books written by caregivers. Some comes from a variety of online support groups and blogs as well as reports in the media. It is clear to me that the message is out. I can tell that by how often friends ask me how I am managing.
It is clear that caregiving can take its toll. My father cared for my mother who had an undiagnosed form of dementia. He cared for her without any help except on Wednesday mornings when he went to Kiwanis and then ran a few errands. He left her at a senior daycare center during that 4-hour period. I don’t recall his complaining or saying anything about the stress he was under. I was quite aware, however, that it had an impact on him. During the last year or two of her life, he wasn’t as upbeat as he usually was. After she died, he bounced back. It was then I realized the stress he had been under.
Beyond that, Kate and I were involved with care for all four of our parents over a period of 23 consecutive years. Kate’s mother lived with us the last 5 years and 3 months of her life. During that time, she had round-the-clock care by a team of 6-7 paid caregivers. Kate was diagnosed 2 years before my dad died. That means I have been involved directly or indirectly with caregiving for 28 consecutive years.
Until Kate was diagnosed, I didn’t put much thought into ways that I might minimize stress. My initial focus was a joint one. We wanted to take advantage of our time together. That meant we had to make every moment count. I am satisfied that we have done that and continue to do so although life is different now.
As Kate’s condition progressed, I began to think more about stress. I can’t remember the earliest time that I consciously took it seriously, but very early on I began to initiate several changes in my own life to prevent or minimize stress.
The first thing I did was to increase my exercise time. For over twenty years, I had been a regular at the Y although my professional travel meant that I wasn’t as frequent there as I wanted to be. As I was nearing retirement, I travelled less. That enabled me to be at the Y three mornings a week on a more regular basis. I arrived shortly before 7:00 and got to the office at 9:00. After her diagnosis, I started walking in the neighborhood the other four mornings of the week. I developed three different routes of varying lengths. The one I considered my default was almost exactly three miles, another two miles, and the third about a mile and a half. These days I still have three routes, but each is slightly shorter than the original ones.
As I began to feel uncomfortable leaving Kate alone, I have made some changes I felt were necessary. My major motivation for bringing in a sitter was to enable me to get to the Y. When I considered the most appropriate schedule for our situation, I decided to have the sitter come in the afternoon rather than the morning. That made for a double benefit on Monday because that would allow me to attend Rotary and then go to the Y. We started that schedule in September of this past year, and it has worked well. I have found, however, that sometimes I have other things like occasional United Way meetings that are usually on a Monday. When that happens, I sacrifice my time at the Y. To make up for that, I started walking every morning and going to the Y three days a week except when other things prevent it. Of course, there are always times when the weather is bad. I don’t walk in the rain, and I don’t walk when it is below 25 degrees.
You may wonder why I leave Kate to walk but won’t leave her when I go to the Y. That relates to our long-standing morning routines. Since Kate gave up her position as a librarian/media specialist at a local high school in 1990, I have almost always been gone when she gets up. She is very accustomed to being alone in the morning. She also gets going very slowly. That means she is not going anywhere soon after she wakes up. I only recall one or two times that she was up before I returned from my walk. I am gone anywhere between 30 and 48 minutes. I do recognize leaving her is taking a calculated risk, but it is one with which I am still comfortable. I don’t know how long this will last. I’ll be ready to make a change when it looks like that would be best.
There are several other ways I tried to keep from being overcome by stress. I’ll address those in subsequent posts.
