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Caregiving Day-by-Day

© Marci Stocks

DEFINITION---Simply, caregivers are anyone who takes care of another person(s). My goal is to make this article as simplistic as possible. I will not take up your time with dictionary definitions, nor will I sputter out medical terminology that is difficult to understand.

Caregivers can be of any age, gender, or race. Caregivers can be of any religion, nationality, or ethnic background. Caregivers can be employed or unemployed. My area of interest pertains to caregivers of dementia-type loved ones. I would like to share with you two experiences that I have had with caregivers while completing an extensive social work internship at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, Florida . All names have been changed for confidentiality.

Two Sides of Caregivers

I made several home visits to caregivers. I remember this one particular incident as if it were yesterday. I knocked on the front door and a gentle-looking woman about 65 answered the door. She invited me in with a smile. Her home was spotless, very easy for her husband to get around in. I followed her to the kitchen. There, I saw the sweetest looking man. He smiled and said hello. I began the interview with Anne.

Anne has been caring for her husband for 10 years. He was first "diagnosed" with Alzheimer's when he was 55. She spoke of her concerns, troubles, and worries. But then she told me how she felt about her husband. She said, "Marci, I love my husband even though he doesn't remember my name. He knows that I am the person who cares for him. It is upsetting because we can't do the things that we used to do. But you know, I love him just as I did when we were first married. I would do anything for him."

On the other hand, not all stories are like Anne's. That same day I did another visit. This time, I went to see a man who was caring for his mother. There was speculation on physical and emotional abuse. The home was very disorganized, and smelled of urine. I sat down next to his mother---she was speechless. She was about 85, frail, and gentle. When I asked the son how he was coping he responded, "I don't know what else to do. I can't work, I can't go out, she is such a burden." Each time he spoke, I could see his mother giving him disgusted looks. Every time he walked up to her she would flinch.

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