The Heart of Caregiving: When Life Throws You Unexpected Changes

Each member of Sound Generations’ Caregiver Support Program is or has been a caregiver to an older adult or adult child, creating a valuable shared experience among Advocates and those who seek their assistance. In this ongoing series—The Heart of Caregiving—our staff, volunteers and others share their personal caregiving stories and the insights learned along the way. The following story comes from staff member Daria Sawochka.

There was a scene in one Downton Abbey episode when Lord Grantham, lying in bed next to his wife, with a flickering candle on his bedside table, was lamenting the notion of “electricity” coming into his home and he wondered out loud why things in life had to change so much and so quickly. And would this electricity thing really catch on? It got me thinking.

Regardless of when we were born, which era or generation we call our own, which style of music speaks to us, we all get used to things being a certain way. The older we get, the more likely we are to have experienced something the same way for a longer period of time. And when those ways come to an end, when progress steps in to mix things up, we may have differing levels of initial acceptance. Often, we may straddle the gap of doing things the familiar way while also being intrigued with the promise the new way offers.

In one’s lifetime, we will see a great deal of changes, some welcomed, many not. But life seems to continue to expand regardless of our readiness. And when we meet someone a little older who at first glance appears reluctant to move forward, adapt, or change, it would be wise to keep this in mind. This person may have a long history of things being a certain way. They grew used to one way of doing things.  Then we arrive, with a heart full of good intentions, intersecting their life in this present moment with offerings of better days ahead.

You can see this with caregiving. Friends and families establish routines, ways of being and relating to one another. Then comes a diagnosis, a fall, or a knee that simply will not bend one more time. It can be like an unwanted guest arriving, disguised as an inability to do what we once could without a second thought. Now what?

When meeting with caregivers throughout King County, first we listen. We listen for signs of what has been and what has been lost. We learn about loneliness and the preciousness of time together. Then we craft individual plans to address what is needed. We offer connections to other caregivers through classes, support groups and various community resources. We can help steer and navigate through the rough and tumble seas of uncertainty. We help caregivers create plans for the parts that are in their control and contingencies for the “what if” parts.

If you or someone you know could benefit from this kind of conversation, this type of planning, give Sound Generations a call at 206.448.3110. You can also email caregiver@soundgenerations.org. Trained staff will guide you forward to the Caregiver Support Program. We are stronger together. 

The Heart of Caregiving: Stories of Caring for Adult Family and Friends

Each member of Sound Generations’ Caregiver Support Program is or has been a caregiver to an older adult or adult child, creating a valuable shared experience among Advocates and those who seek their assistance. In this ongoing series—The Heart of Caregiving—our staff, volunteers and others share their personal caregiving stories and the insights learned along the way. Our first story, “Betty Grable’s Legs”, comes from staff member Daria Sawochka.

Recently, I flew cross country to spend some time with my dad. At 87, he has survived open heart surgery and suffers from aching arthiritis in his lower back. Still, he continues to follow world news and events with more attention to the details than I do. He had voiced a goal last fall that he hoped he would be around to vote for one more president. He cast his first presidential vote for Dwight Eisenhower back in ’52 after returning from the Korean War, having served as a marine. He said he couldn’t vote for Truman as he wanted to disband the Marine Corp.

Dad is much slower now, and has a terrible time lifting his legs into the car.  He will use a cane sometimes, but he’s mostly reluctant to use a walker. I think it just doesn’t fit into his belief of who he is. He falls asleep pretty regularly throughout the day, taking what look like little cat naps. Then he wakes up, just in time to watch the gunfight in whatever western he’d been watching. Ah, the good guys win again.

My role at this point in both of our lives is to be the one to bring available resources/options to his attention; housecleaning services, options for moving closer to me, alternative modes of transportation, Meals on Wheels, etc. His role, as a competent adult, is to decide which services he wants to try…if any.  I know in my daughter’s heart which suggestions I would want him to utilize, but I equally know, it is not my decision.

I see him giving life his very best–much like he always has.  He modifies his life when it is demanded.  Example:  Recently, after having taken his daily shower, he was sitting on the closed toilet seat shaving.  He says he can’t stand for very long these days.  He went on to say the room spun around twice and he passed out.  When he came to, he was lying half in the shower and half on the bathroom floor. Instead of deciding to grow a beard, he now sits on the living room couch to shave.  He said that this way, if it happens again, he will simply land on his favorite soft spot, where he’s taken countless naps over his lifetime.

His lower legs and feet now regularly swell due to edema.  I asked him when his next doctor’s appointment was and he had said it was four weeks out.  I asked him if he would like me to see about getting one sooner and he flatly said, “No.”  He went on to say he wakes up every morning with legs as beautiful as Betty Grable’s.  Then, due to gravity, fluid runs downhill and puffiness ensues.  His sweet sparkling eyes and charming smile swept away most of my worries once more.  How can I argue with such gentleness?

Dad’s doing life his way. He has an extraordinary way of taking it as it comes. Good with bad. Joys along with challenges.  He clearly knows what he will and will not do.  And I will keep checking in, offering my latest finds of help and support.

For more information or to talk further about your own unique situation and explore possible ways to help, contact Pathways Information & Assistance at 206.448.3110 or toll free at 1-888-435-3377. You can also email caregiver@soundgenerations.org.