A bit about caregiving

There's a lot of (unnecessary) guilt around my house. The thing about this kind of illness is that it robs so much from everyone. Someone who was once very independent now needs help with the simplest of tasks like opening a can or toweling off and dressing after a shower. It's a lot of adjustment losing abilities. But also an adjustment for me picking up more care for him. Before it was a lot of joint care for the kids. Now it's that plus what he use to do for them and all the new stuff that he can't do anymore. Right now at least he is doing some of the other stuff like reading with LG and still doing some of the easier cooking though he is teaching me how to cook some stuff. But that's another thing. BT's ability to cook is diminishing and so I have to take on more of that. It's just more and more. I have a good support system in that my parents live by and are willing to help out. Among the many things that they do, my dad drives BT to his infusion treatments that take place once a month and does yard work. My mom gets the kids after school and takes them to their various sports activities. So that is extremely helpful and eases my responsibilities. They have been a tremendous help and there is literally no way to repay them.

I'd like to say that I've been the picture of grace about all of this. I have not. I have tried my best, my very best. But it's been a hard road of acceptance that continues on. Every time there is a down slide it gets rough. I wish I could be like the other caregivers I read on the internet, the ones who say that they accept it, that their spouses are their reason for being, that they love being a caregiver even if it is stressful. I don't know if it's words for the internet because no one likes admitting the ungracious side of themselves or if it's true. It is not for me. Maybe if we were older or our kids were grown or if we had managed to do more of the things we wanted to do together but this is not what I wanted, not how I saw things going. And that's obviously true for both of us. The difference is that I saw the future I had envisioned go away in an instance. BT mourns the past and all the things that he never got to do. I mourn the future and how I can't plan for it anymore and how he won't be in it or if he is how different he will be. In 20 years will I be alone or still caring for BT? The truth is the future is hard to predict but before I felt like I could say "Oh when we retire we can do XYZ." I don't feel like that it is true anymore. I try to find something for myself and ideas for my own future. I tend to focus now on the immediate future. What game I want to play, what race I want to do, what vacation we can take next year. I like to have a plan and now that I can't have anything long term I like to at least focus on the short term.

The quest for automation

One of the ways we’ve begun working on to make life easier for my husband is automating the house or at least making it voice controlled. BT’s fine motor control has been one of the first things to go. He has trouble with small objects or anything that requires finite motion. His weakness currently lies in his hands, arms, and legs. So at first we got a Google Home so he could use it for an alarm and to control the thermostat. Recently we added a door bell with a camera so he can see who is at the door and lights that can be controlled with voice commands. It’s a smallish things that help make things easier for him. There’s a few more lights and plugs that we will automate to help around the house. I realize that this is not always possible for a lot of disabled folks. Being disabled is expensive and it is very hard in many ways but instead of birthday presents we get smart lights at my house apparently.

Where to begin (again)

I started to make a whole new blog dedicated to being a caregiver but the truth is part of me is afraid of placing too much identity into being BT’s caregiver. Truthfully I look for ways to maintain my own individual identity. Yes I am a wife and yes I am a mother and those belong to me but also as me being a part of another.  One of the things that has become clearer to me is the need to have my own identity because one day I’ll be on my own. I decided in the end to start writing here again since this is my personal life blog so there will probably be posts about what is like to care for someone with a progressive degenerative disease. But also about coping and sports and the things I do.

The truth is that life is hard for everyone. I believe in the universal struggle for most people, to be happy, to be loved, to find fulfillment. So I never believe that we are alone or that the thing we face is unique. But it is difficult and a bit unusual.

So since October 2016 when my husband at 38 years old, was diagnosed with ALS, he has gone from being a runner to being mostly wheelchair bound in the short time of his diagnosis. I’m not a doctor but this is an alarming rate to me. And in the meantime I’ve picked up so much of the slack but more than that I’ve gained another person to care for beyond our 2 children. My experiences as a caregiver are not unique but as we are well below the average age for an ALS diagnosis it’s been hard for me to find someone relatable.

Writing about it seems cathartic if I’m being honest though the details may seem uninteresting maybe to most. It’s been hard and continues to get harder. I don’t look to the future much anymore. My motto is Run the mile you are in. I try my best to follow that.