I’m a strong woman; born that way, raised that way, live that way. So when my husband, Harvey, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease when he was fifty years old, I knew I would have to be even stronger. We shared a medical practice and family responsibilities, and when he retired, I instantly became a solo practitioner. And caregiver to my husband. And primary parent to two teenage daughters. And CEO and CFO of our household.
I knew I could do it; I just didn’t want to do it all! Harvey and I had the division of labor thing down cold. Now it was going to be all on me. And I couldn’t complain about my extra load. Harvey had it much worse than I did.
As we began this journey, I maintained my relationships with family and friends and neighbors. Harvey didn’t want people to know his diagnosis, but I knew it was important that key people knew so that they could watch out for him. So I quietly told certain folks and they became my eyes and ears when I wasn’t close by.
Over time, because I had maintained these relationships, I felt comfortable describing what was going on at home, sometimes complaining, often expressing concerns. Then friends would just begin to offer to help. And here’s the amazing part: I learned to accept their offers of help! I didn’t have to be strong alone.
As I got more and more comfortable with accepting offers of help, I also became more comfortable asking directly for help. In the end, when I look back at all the people–friends, family, and professionals–I am astounded at the size of our caregiving team.
And I am deeply grateful to have each and every member.
There are so many barriers to asking for help. I was strong and knew I could do it alone, but how much better for all of us that I didn’t do it all by myself! Helping a family facing the ravages of Alzheimer’s is rewarding in itself. Really connecting with a person who has Alzheimer’s is a whole other level of rewarding. And knowing there was a whole village of people who supported our family through this? Wow!
Spouses, especially older couples, sometimes feel they are the only ones who could possibly care for their loved one correctly. Or they feel that their loved one needing care wouldn’t want anyone else but them to be the caregiver. Or asking for help would be a sign of weakness. Or they couldn’t possibly put anyone out by asking for their help. The list of excuses is as long as there are people not willing to ask for help.
What’s your excuse?
In my next several posts, I will describe some of the concrete ways our friends, family members, and professionals became the village that surrounded Harvey and me with love and support.
16 Responses
Thank you for your honesty and strength Renee. Learning to ask for help is hard for many. Sharing your journey is a help and inspiration to us!
Thank you for commenting, Anne! Yes, asking for help is hard work for some of us.
Renée
Thank you, Renee, for helping to educate us all. As caregivers, family or friends go through something like this it is good for us outside the situation to know what to do and say. My admiration for you is boundless.
Thank you for commenting, Judy! Just knowing we had a community around us gave me strength!
Renée
I have a feeling this will be extraordinarily eye opening for me. Having known both of you in college I feel a personal involvement. You have been and will continue to be in my thoughts and prayers. You are much stronger than I could be. God bless.
Thank you, Robert. Sometimes you don’t know how strong you are until you have to be.
Renée
I can’t wait too read the next blog & the book.
Thanks, Barbara!
Your mom and I spoke of your new website on the phone after I asked her about getting a copy of your book. Then there was the alert from you in my e-mail box. Congratulations on this newest tool to raise awareness of your warm, loving, caring, and helpful book to those who are trying to cope with loved ones in their own lives who have Alzheimer’s. Your book will be a vital source of information when it is published. Godspeed!
Oh, Jo! Thank you for such kind words!
Your beautiful story continues! I’m reluctant to curse the disease that brought countless dear people into my life. Like you and Harvey and your girls. I’m so thankful we didn’t try to walk this lonesome valley alone. You and your story are precious to me.
I understand your sentiment completely, Mindy! So thankful for you and the support group and all we mean to each other!
Renée
A friend recently told me about your blog. Glad I found it. Going to miss having you as my doctor.
Renee,
After knowing you and Harvey as our family doctor for so many years,I cannot tell you how much you both have meant to us. We were very saddened with Harvey’s diagnosis, and I can’t even imagine how much your life changed overnight. You were and are an inspiration to me.
Pat,
I just now saw your comment here. Thank you for the kind words! Looking back from this vantage point, I truly don’t know how I did it! Writing these blogs, though, has reminded me how much support I had. That is the key!
Kathy,
I just found your comment here! Thank you for the kind words. I’m missing the human connections a bit, but so far this retirement thing is good!