A Caregiver’s Search for a Caregiver
November 30, 2024
Thursday, Nov 14
1:47 PM: “Hi, I was wondering if a caregiver will be coming to stay with my mother tomorrow from 10-2, as I talked about with the in-take nurse on Monday.”
“Let me check with our scheduler and someone will get back to you.”
5:30: “Hi, Laura. We don’t have someone to start tomorrow. We do have someone who picked up the job for Monday, so we’ll start our services then.”
Monday, Nov 18
10 AM: The doorbell rang and a lovely young woman was there, ready to help my mother and give me a break for four hours.
Friday, Nov 22
10:18 AM: “I was wondering what’s happening with the caregiver who was supposed to be here at 10?”
“I’m so sorry, but she called at 10:05 to say that she’s vomiting. You were my next call to make, but I got inundated with calls.”
“Do you have someone else who could come?”
“No, we don’t have a back-up. I’m sorry.”
Monday, Nov 25
9:44 AM: “I’m calling to let you know that the caregiver who was going to stay with your mother today has a temperature, so we’ll have to cancel. I can see if someone else can pick up the job. We do have someone who picked up the job for Friday.”
“Later today doesn’t work for me. What about Wednesday?”
“I’ll put it into the system and see if anyone picks it up.”
Tuesday, Nov 26
1:17 PM: “Hi, I’m calling to see if someone picked up my job for tomorrow.”
“I’ll have to check and I’ll have someone get back to you.
4:06: I called another agency. When the woman I had been in email contact with answered, she said she had called me a few times earlier in the day. Turns out she dialed the wrong number. We made an appointment for her to meet us on Tuesday.
Wednesday, Nov 27
9:55 AM: I left the house for a couple of hours, knowing that no one was going to stay with my mother, but I had plans and I needed to get out, and I told my mother where her lunch was.
10:20: My brother in New York: “Mom just called to say a girl is there to give her a bath. She said she called you but you didn’t answer.”
There had been no calls from my mother. Using the phone has become a technological challenge that sometimes confounds her.
10:21: “Hi, Mom. Who’s there with you?
“The girl who came last time is here.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“Hi, thanks for being there with my mother. I didn’t know you were coming today, but I’m glad you’re there.”
10:24: “Hi, scheduler. I was calling to find out what happened today. No one told me that someone was scheduled for today.”
“When we talked on Monday, I told you I would reschedule the Monday person to Wednesday.”
“You said you would try to find someone to take the job and that you would get back to me to let me know. I’m really annoyed. I called yesterday to check and no one got back to me.”
“Do you know who you spoke to?”
“No, I don’t.”
“I’ll try to clarify and I’m sorry about that.”
In Florida, the caregivers who came for five hours once-a-week were mostly middle-aged women from around the Caribbean. There was never a time that I scheduled someone and no one showed up. Here, apparently, it’s mostly women in their 20s, setting out on their careers. I’m not sure what conclusions to draw. Maybe it’s cold and flu season here in the Pacific Northwest (someone suggested handovers), and, clearly, this is not a smooth-sailing process. It (as in my mother) is all on me, even as I try to dump it on someone else for a little while. I also see that as much as I think I may not be organized, at least I’m not in a job where that’s all I need to do and I’m failing at it.
Another conclusion is that it’s lonely being a caregiver. While I love my mother, who has always been supportive of me, I don’t want to hang out with her, even if it means that I miss some of her childhood-in-the-Bronx stories. What I get out of her living with me is that I’m doing what I feel I should do, with a smattering of want-to-do, as well as a heavy feeling tinged with guilt and the responsibility of “honor thy father and mother.”
Wednesday, Nov 27
3:38 PM I received an email saying that today’s caregiver felt that my mother wasn’t kind to her and that she wouldn’t be returning.
Of all the issues relating to caregivers, it never occurred to me that there would be a clash of personalities. A young Oregonian meeting an elderly New Yorker. Ok. I see the possibility of misunderstanding forthrightness and brusqueness, and my mother’s general frustration (which says more about how she feels about herself not being her usual self than how someone is helping her). Onward.
Friday, Nov 29
10:00 AM A knock on the door. The scheduled aide was there, ready to start.
I could have hugged her before she even came into the house. She’s a woman in her 60s who looks like she can handle my mother. When I left, she was putting my mother into my new winter coat (she was not letting my mother wear just a vest) and my gloves (we need to do some winter shopping), getting her ready to take a walk around the neighborhood. I’ll hold off on my “Hurray for mature women!” but I’m letting myself feel optimistic.
The image of a rollercoaster comes to mind when thinking of the past two weeks. But so, too, is the insight that life is for living, which means to “expect the unexpected” and deal without getting angry or losing my equilibrium. I’m living, making the best out of what happens, being responsible, and making time for myself and what I need. Maintaining an inner calm despite the turmoil is essential self-care and self-preservation.
2:54 PM I received an email that the caregiver enjoyed spending time with my mother and that she would be back on Monday.
That email made me glad I hadn’t lost my balance within when dealing with this external issue. Caregiving my mother is certainly not a challenge I expected, but it’s the one I have and I’m going to use it to try to become a person version of myself.