Hidden Talents of a Caregiver: A Poem

"Hidden Talents of a Caregiver"

by JuliaRose

I might introduce myself as a college professor of world religions.

But, I am also a wife and full-time caregiver to my husband, whose health is deteriorating.

“Caregiver.” How much is contained in that one word!

You wouldn't know, unless you asked, the skills I have learned these last six years.

Shall I tell you of my secrets, my hidden talents?

I am a nutritionist, dietitian, endocrinologist, and part magician as I negotiate a reduced salt, low sugar, low potassium, low phosphorus, and high protein diet and sometimes manage to produce edible food.

I am a speech therapist, testing consistencies of food and drink and watching for running noses and coughs during swallowing.

I am a cleaner of messes, big and small.

I am the eyes and ears for those that have dimmed or faded.

I am a ray of sunshine in the midst of gloom.

I am an emergency responder and first aid giver when help is needed urgently.

I am a physical therapist, lifting legs and arms and bending them to stretch the muscles and supply nutrients to the underused joints.

I am a dialysis nurse, watching the lab work, blood pressures, fluid gains, and the thick needles that are life-preserving, but not life-giving.

I am Mom, especially at night when I hold him close to calm and protect from the terrors.

I am a chauffeur of our wheelchair-accessible van that brings some freedom to a yearning heart.

I am a wound expert with my arsenal of skin products, always on the lookout for signs of pressure sores and cuts.

I am a podiatrist, having learned how to debride troublesome blisters to allow the skin to heal, preventing loss of toes or limbs (or worse).

I am a barber and shower assistant, taking pride in giving a clean shave and cleanliness, when possible.

I am a urologist, facilitating the flow of golden fluid.

Before 10 a.m., I am a zombie. So, no. We cannot make it to any morning appointments.

I am day shift and night shift, evenings and weekends, holidays, too. But, when I have respite, I spend most my time wishing I were home.

I am a social worker, actively seeking programs, assistance, and resources to make life easier.

I am a medication manager, understanding enough about each pill to be able to deliver or withhold, if needed.

I am an entertainer to fight away the boredom.

I am a source of love, comfort, and care in a harsh reality.

I have developed many skills, adapting to what's needed the next day.

When this time passes, what will I be then?

How will I reenter the world after knowing what the end is like?

My soul has cried during this painful journey,

even as I try to be grateful for the challenges.

At least I know that if I’m passionate enough, I can learn

new skills that I never dreamed of achieving.

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Can you relate? Do you have a poem to share?

Thanks.