(As appearing in the Summer 2019 issue of “Christian Living in the Mature Years”)…
On July 11th, 2017, I received my Breast cancer diagnosis. Life changed. And immediately, I thought about my elderly mother, who resided in a care facility.
Some of us caregivers may experience a health crisis; we’re not immune.
How will we handle that, especially concerning our elderly loved ones?
Be as Non-Terrifying as Possible:
Awaiting my diagnosis, I laid some groundwork. I didn’t get specific; I didn’t want to scare her. But I did inform Mom of my mammogram, ultrasound and biopsy test results.
She seemed nonchalant. Since this was not my first cancer scare, I think she viewed it as another false alarm.
In the beginning, when you know very little about your health crisis, don’t go into gory detail. Gory equals scary. Just surface facts.
Need-To-Know People:
When I finally learned of my diagnosis, my first notification was not to my mother, but rather, to Rachel, the lead nurse on my mother’s floor. I requested she be in Mom’s room when I delivered the news. During that phone call, my mother seemed unfazed. But she’s known to withdraw.
Therefore, I next told care facility staff about my diagnosis. If Mom interacts daily with people who are in the know, there’s less chance of isolation. I was determined to blab to them, getting the help we needed.
Locate your own need-to-know people, from diagnosis on. They can be family, friends, or care facility staff. They can monitor your loved one regularly, while also giving you intel on what’s really going on with him or her. They can also support you in how you disclose and deal with your health condition as it unfolds.
That First Post-Diagnosis Visit:
Eventually, you’ll need to have direct contact with your loved one. Late July, 2017 my husband and I visited Mom for the first time, post-revelation.
“How are you feeling?” Tears were filling her eyes.
“Mom, I’m okay. I’m not in any pain. It’s mostly discomfort.”
I saw a look of slight relief.
We then took turns saying things like we caught it early and we have support around us.
Mom, however, was still teary. I asked, “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m concerned for your health.”
“And what else?”
“I’m afraid… you could die.”
There! The fear was spoken.
We reminded her she could talk to and pray with care facility staff. She quietly nodded.
Overall, this visit went well. Mom saw for herself I was not her dead daughter. People often associate the word, “cancer” with death. So, any evidence of life is reassuring.
That first face-to-face interaction can set the tone for how your health condition is received by your loved one. Again, don’t go into graphic detail. He/she doesn’t need to know about the disturbing realities of procedures. Think headlines only. “I have this diagnosis,” “I’m getting this test done” or “I’ll get my results on this day.” Anything more and you risk upset that neither your loved one, nor you need.
There is comfort in the face-to-face, if you can arrange it. Your 3-D presence, establishes, “We’re here together now.”
Caregiver, Heal Thyself:
There is no perfect way to deal with cancer and caregiving.
I had my breast surgery and went through a course of radiation. So, during this time, concerning Mom, I did most everything by phone, including her quarterly care conferences, executed via speakerphone. I also called Mom twice weekly. We did not spend the holidays together; that was during my most intense treatment and recovery time. But we mailed her letters, cards, gifts and personal care items. Care facility staff provided us with updates and coordinated special occasions, like my mother’s 80th birthday party, which, fortunately, we did attend.
Cancer shifted my focus. I had to let a lot of once- micromanaged things go.
It was“Behold, thy mother” and self-care.
“… ‘Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.”
John 19:27
I did my utmost to take care of her needs. But I couldn’t do everything; and I shouldn’t be expected to, either. My mother was in a place where her health and safety were monitored daily. She had human contact. And, even if the face-to-face interaction was much less now, we told each other we loved one another every time we spoke.
In this imperfect situation, I was doing everything I could.
“… having done all, to stand.”
Ephesians 6:13
Self-care now dictated I trust my Creator with both of us; but I had to take care of myself. It’s the airline analogy. You put on your oxygen mask first before you can help anyone else.
And that’s the challenge.
Dear Caregiver, stewardship of your own well-being is His Divine Will. Eradicate each “should.” Delegate. Ask for help in making things happen for your loved one. Do as much by conference call and mail as possible.
Life is different now. But you can still care for your loved one with this different, diagnosed life. And you will learn to treat yourself kindly in the process.
