"When I worked as a home-health care provider many years ago, I would sometimes be astounded by how impatient family members could be with an elderly parent or grandparent. How could they be so short-tempered with that sweet little old person? Recently, I think I gained some insight into their behavior."
Click here to read more.
Showing posts with label caregiver. Show all posts
Showing posts with label caregiver. Show all posts
Friday, January 6, 2012
Monday, January 25, 2010
A Caregiver's Prayer (Number 45 in a series)
"And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Matthew 25:40 (KJV).
I'm fighting my share of battles these days as I watch my mother decline. Even when she is at her most hurtful and demanding, I must remind myself that I am not only caring for her; I am caring for Jesus through her. I don't always succeed as well as I desire.
For my fellow caregivers everywhere, as well as myself, I offer this prayer.
Heavenly Father,
Today I look on a face I love without the person I love behind it. Today I seek to provide my loved one’s needs, not knowing if I am even recognized. Today I move one day closer to “Farewell.”
Please help me to remember the heart and soul now hidden from me. Remind me when I don’t have a name in my loved one’s eyes that I have a name in You. Give me strength to do what I must do to provide nourishment and comfort, even when I must do battle with a seeming stranger to do so. Give me patience with the lack of recognition and understanding, with the presence of confusion and fear.
Father, give me cognizance of those flashes of the one who used to be, that I may rejoice in a moment’s gift. Give me kindness when the stranger returns. Please remind me that the odd behavior of one I once knew so well comes not from the heart but from the condition now presenting itself.
Make my touch gentle, my voice soft, my thoughts loving. Help me to fight the demons of exhaustion, frustration and depression so that I may overcome them in Your mighty Name.
When I grow discouraged, Father, please lift me up. When I grow impatient, please slow me down. Help me at all times to be Your hands and feet to the one who is drawing ever nearer to Your Throne. Remind me that what I do here, I do to Your glory and as though I do it for You, as well. Remind me to praise you for the opportunity to serve. So many don't get the chance to say "Good-bye," much less show their love through providing care.
Each time I leave the bedside, remind me to say “I love you.” This may be the moment when my loved one understands. It may be the last chance I have to say it. It will always be a reminder, even in my darkest moments.
And, dear Father, when the time comes to let go, please remind me that we will meet again in Your presence. Comfort me with Your care. Let me hold to the good memories until the day we have the opportunity to make perfect ones, in Your paradise.
In the name of Your Precious Son Jesus I ask these things,
Amen.
Copyright 2010 Mary Beth Magee
I'm fighting my share of battles these days as I watch my mother decline. Even when she is at her most hurtful and demanding, I must remind myself that I am not only caring for her; I am caring for Jesus through her. I don't always succeed as well as I desire.
For my fellow caregivers everywhere, as well as myself, I offer this prayer.
A Caregiver’s Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Today I look on a face I love without the person I love behind it. Today I seek to provide my loved one’s needs, not knowing if I am even recognized. Today I move one day closer to “Farewell.”
Please help me to remember the heart and soul now hidden from me. Remind me when I don’t have a name in my loved one’s eyes that I have a name in You. Give me strength to do what I must do to provide nourishment and comfort, even when I must do battle with a seeming stranger to do so. Give me patience with the lack of recognition and understanding, with the presence of confusion and fear.
Father, give me cognizance of those flashes of the one who used to be, that I may rejoice in a moment’s gift. Give me kindness when the stranger returns. Please remind me that the odd behavior of one I once knew so well comes not from the heart but from the condition now presenting itself.
Make my touch gentle, my voice soft, my thoughts loving. Help me to fight the demons of exhaustion, frustration and depression so that I may overcome them in Your mighty Name.
When I grow discouraged, Father, please lift me up. When I grow impatient, please slow me down. Help me at all times to be Your hands and feet to the one who is drawing ever nearer to Your Throne. Remind me that what I do here, I do to Your glory and as though I do it for You, as well. Remind me to praise you for the opportunity to serve. So many don't get the chance to say "Good-bye," much less show their love through providing care.
Each time I leave the bedside, remind me to say “I love you.” This may be the moment when my loved one understands. It may be the last chance I have to say it. It will always be a reminder, even in my darkest moments.
And, dear Father, when the time comes to let go, please remind me that we will meet again in Your presence. Comfort me with Your care. Let me hold to the good memories until the day we have the opportunity to make perfect ones, in Your paradise.
In the name of Your Precious Son Jesus I ask these things,
Amen.
Copyright 2010 Mary Beth Magee
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Frustration (Number 39 in a series)
“In my distress I cried unto the LORD, and he heard me. Deliver my soul, O LORD…” Psalm 120:1-2a (KJV)
My mother has good days and she has bad days. When she has a bad day, it means I will have a bad day as well. I love her dearly, but sometimes she exhausts me with her demands.
She is too cold, but the covers I put on her are too heavy.
She asks for water while I am balancing a measuring cup and her liquid medication, and gets upset when I stop to put down the cup and bottle to get her water.
She doesn’t like the clothes I picked out for her to wear, but gets angry and accuses me of being ‘mean’ to her when I suggest she pick out something she would prefer.
She is restless and goes from bed to chair to bed, up and down, a restless wraith haunting my soul with her discomfort.
Do I sound as though I’m whining? In a way, I am. I get frustrated with not being able to fix things for her, to make everything all right again. My frustration expresses itself in a ‘poor me pity party.’
Finally, I do what I should have done in the first place. I remember to turn it over to God. He feels Mama’s pain and restlessness. He knows my aggravation. He loves us both. When I ask, He calms my heart and gives me an added dose of patience to deal with Mama’s moods.
Do you have a source of frustration, a problem you can’t seem to solve? Cry out to Him. He will hear and help. Perhaps He will calm the storm, as He did for the disciples. Perhaps He will calm you.
Thank you, Father, for the peace You bring us. Help us to remember where to turn when the problems mount and aggravation grows. Thank you for loving us even when we are most unlovable. Thank you for hearing our call.
©2009 Mary Beth Magee
My mother has good days and she has bad days. When she has a bad day, it means I will have a bad day as well. I love her dearly, but sometimes she exhausts me with her demands.
She is too cold, but the covers I put on her are too heavy.
She asks for water while I am balancing a measuring cup and her liquid medication, and gets upset when I stop to put down the cup and bottle to get her water.
She doesn’t like the clothes I picked out for her to wear, but gets angry and accuses me of being ‘mean’ to her when I suggest she pick out something she would prefer.
She is restless and goes from bed to chair to bed, up and down, a restless wraith haunting my soul with her discomfort.
Do I sound as though I’m whining? In a way, I am. I get frustrated with not being able to fix things for her, to make everything all right again. My frustration expresses itself in a ‘poor me pity party.’
Finally, I do what I should have done in the first place. I remember to turn it over to God. He feels Mama’s pain and restlessness. He knows my aggravation. He loves us both. When I ask, He calms my heart and gives me an added dose of patience to deal with Mama’s moods.
Do you have a source of frustration, a problem you can’t seem to solve? Cry out to Him. He will hear and help. Perhaps He will calm the storm, as He did for the disciples. Perhaps He will calm you.
Thank you, Father, for the peace You bring us. Help us to remember where to turn when the problems mount and aggravation grows. Thank you for loving us even when we are most unlovable. Thank you for hearing our call.
©2009 Mary Beth Magee
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Body Beautiful (Number 20 in a series)
“I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.” Psalm 139: 14 (KJV)
A caregiver faces many issues. Beyond the physical demands of helping someone to rise from a bed or chair are the emotional demands of assisting in nutrition or personal hygiene.
For my mother, meals consist of liquids hung in a gravity-feed bag called a kangaroo pouch. The nutritional liquid goes through a tube into a valve implanted in her stomach wall – a percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy (PEG) tube. Each feeding and/or dose of medication requires exposing her upper abdomen for access to the tube.
Because she is weak and has poor balance, Mama requires help bathing and even going to the bathroom. She laments having to let me see her body, embarrassed by the lack of privacy and modesty she must experience. Although I try to be mindful of her dignity, sometimes we both fall prey to giggling fits as I wash and dry her feet, particularly between her toes. Neither of us is in a very dignified position at that moment!
Through all of this, I am amazed by her. Her limbs are wrapped in crepe-like skin, slack against out-of-tone muscles. Yet she works to pull herself up, to walk back and forth to try to build her strength. Although she’s given birth to four daughters, her stomach is still flat, although the skin is not smooth. I marvel at the grip of her gnarled hands, as we lock forearms to steady her gait.
How wondrous is the human body! Even as it winds down, it is a thing of amazing beauty. The gentleness of her touch and the comfort of her embrace are still delights. Her smile, when I can entice one from her, is as warm as June sunshine.
One day I will have to say farewell to her body. The truth which comforts me is that her soul will go on, and we will meet again in glory. How marvelous, Lord! How wondrously marvelous!
Father, I thank you for the love You put into creating each of us. We are each beautiful in our own way, by Your design. Help us to see Your creation in each other at all stages of life, and to appreciate each other in Your Name.
© 2009 Mary Beth Magee
A caregiver faces many issues. Beyond the physical demands of helping someone to rise from a bed or chair are the emotional demands of assisting in nutrition or personal hygiene.
For my mother, meals consist of liquids hung in a gravity-feed bag called a kangaroo pouch. The nutritional liquid goes through a tube into a valve implanted in her stomach wall – a percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy (PEG) tube. Each feeding and/or dose of medication requires exposing her upper abdomen for access to the tube.
Because she is weak and has poor balance, Mama requires help bathing and even going to the bathroom. She laments having to let me see her body, embarrassed by the lack of privacy and modesty she must experience. Although I try to be mindful of her dignity, sometimes we both fall prey to giggling fits as I wash and dry her feet, particularly between her toes. Neither of us is in a very dignified position at that moment!
Through all of this, I am amazed by her. Her limbs are wrapped in crepe-like skin, slack against out-of-tone muscles. Yet she works to pull herself up, to walk back and forth to try to build her strength. Although she’s given birth to four daughters, her stomach is still flat, although the skin is not smooth. I marvel at the grip of her gnarled hands, as we lock forearms to steady her gait.
How wondrous is the human body! Even as it winds down, it is a thing of amazing beauty. The gentleness of her touch and the comfort of her embrace are still delights. Her smile, when I can entice one from her, is as warm as June sunshine.
One day I will have to say farewell to her body. The truth which comforts me is that her soul will go on, and we will meet again in glory. How marvelous, Lord! How wondrously marvelous!
Father, I thank you for the love You put into creating each of us. We are each beautiful in our own way, by Your design. Help us to see Your creation in each other at all stages of life, and to appreciate each other in Your Name.
© 2009 Mary Beth Magee
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)