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Tuesday, December 04, 2012

My Caregiver

Whenever my white counts drop down far too low
Neulasta works hard so my new cells will grow
And then extreme pain settles into my core
I listen to hear her shoes tap on the floor.

Whenever the migraines take over my day
And nausea and weakness turn everything gray
I feel more forsaken than ever before
I listen to hear her shoes tap on the floor.

Whenever I hurt and feel down in the dumps
My life seems to protest, "I want no more lumps!"
Whenever I think I can't take anymore
I listen to hear her shoes tap on the floor.


Mom could have chosen to let my grandfather spend his last 6 months fighting esophageal cancer in the nursing home, but instead, she chose to move the family in with him to care for him, to give back to him what he had done for her so many years ago when she had polio and all the family members did physical therapy on her legs so she would be able to walk.
Mom could have let my dad go to stay in the hospice house for his last days with lung cancer which somehow dragged into 4 years. She could have had more help come in to do the daily chores. Instead she chose to change the sheets wet with sweat, to help him eat, breathe, and find comfort in his own home with his family close at hand.
When she heard my diagnosis over and over, she could have said I’m getting too old to do this again.
She could have left my care and managing all the problems to Home Health.
She could have left my getting to radiation and chemotherapy to the Taxi.
She could have left my passing out in the middle of the night to the emergency squad.
She could have left writing the checks to a secretary.
She could have left the job of keeping up my spirits to the counselor.
She could have left laughing at the flying brown missiles to the DVDs and joke CDs.
She could have left the laundry, the cleanup on aisle 9, and the grocery shopping to the maid.
But instead, she chose to be my caregiver for four long years.

--excerpted from "Covenants Kept", 2/2012 by Sue Atkins

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Member Comments About This Blog Post
    Very touching. Thank you for sharing that.
    Reading what you wrote made me think about my own mother... And it also made me wonder what year your mother was born. And you.
    1960 days ago

    Comment edited on: 12/6/2012 2:17:35 PM
  • IAM_HIS2
    This is beautiful.

    Mothers are very, very special.

    And speaking as having been my Mum caregiver, it is an honor and privilege to be a caregiver. I would not have wanted anyone else to care for her.
    1961 days ago
  • ANGEL1066
    My MOM took care of my Dad thru his trials with diabetes and his final bout with cancer. She lost so much weight, too much, got down to 80 lbs, but she still waited on him hand and foot, wrestled him into and out of his chair, to and from bathroom duty, Dr. appointments and so on. He was a big man, even at the end. I don't know how she did it. Patient caregivers are amazing! Thanks for the post.
    1962 days ago
    I know some of what she had gone through and it is a tough job but I could not think of a person that would take care of my husband than me and I think that is what your mother thought too. emoticon
    1962 days ago
    Wow she is a savior, we all need people like her, good luck.
    1962 days ago
    Mom's are a special breed. emoticon
    1962 days ago
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