I have just had it! I have been caregiver for my brother Reid for six years now. In that time we have been able to get all sorts of help for him. Me as a caregiver? Nada, nothing, crickets. Reid has been in the hospital for over two weeks and almost loss his life. Who will deal with it? Me! I have spent six years wiping his butt, cleaning his commode, emptying urinals, washing his clothes, cleaning his room and the rest of the house, hauled him to his Doctor’s appointments, fed him nutritious meals, trying to keep him alive because he is to fracking lazy to do it himself. I love him dearly but he is the type of patient you want to strangle on a regular basis.
It was bad enough that they can’t appreciate that I make all the decisions. The second call set me over the edge. “Hello Mrs. Wilson I want to talk about your husband Reid’s home care.” They can’t even be bothered to check out the role of the caregiver or even let it into their tiny little brains that caregivers are most often not married to the patient. She couldn’t even be bothered to apologize when I corrected her.
Caregivers are the step children of the world. All our love and hard work is ignored. We sweat, and strain, and cry when they have gone to bed. We try to figure out how we are going to be able to pay for everything. We can’t let the patient know because they have to remain calm.
You know what I have discovered today? The world doesn’t give a f—k about caregivers.