Only a simple care-giver...in love.

In July 2004 a woman asked me how I learned to be a care-giver. And this is what I told her:

Simple. Trial and error. Follow my instincts. Use common sense. For instance, Jeanne seemed distracted in the congregate dining area. Too many distractions and disturbances. So it made sense to have her dinner tray delivered to her room. I play music, too. I considered candlelight. But that’s against regulations in a nursing home. A potential fire hazard. Ridiculous rule. One can do it safely. But no big deal. I hand-feed Jeanne. Lunch and supper. We take our time. No hurry. There’s a knack to feeding. If she doesn’t like a vegetable, for instance, I may dip it in ice cream. Works every time. I sit in front of Jeanne. Face to face. One on one. Talk in simple terms. Short sentences. Ask questions that require one word answers. Or a nod of the head. Talk positively. Slowly. Smile. Be pleasant. Praise. Praise. Praise. Love. Love. Love. Massage. Back massage. Facial massage. Comb her hair. Read aloud. Take her outdoors. In the wheelchair. In the rain. In the sunshine. Call her attention to little things. A mallard duck crossing the road. Chirping birds. Bring her home. For a few hours. Push the wheelchair down the same paths and roads she used to walk. Talk to her. Pleasant talk. Sing to her. Little ditties. Twinkle, twinkle little Jeanne. Oh, I wonder what you are. You’re so beautiful, you could be a movie star. Some nights I sneak in. When she’s gone to bed; and I kiss her on the cheek. And she smiles. She knows it’s me. In the morning, I come in. Her eyes may be closed. I announce that I’m Prince Charming. I’ve come to wake Sleeping Beauty. With a kiss. I give her a loud smooch. She pretends she’s still asleep. Then she grins. We are playing a game. Good natured. Pleasant experience after pleasant experience. I build on it. Minute after minute. Hour after hour. Day after day. Week after week. It brings results. Positive thought. Stress-free living. The paranoia ebbs. Less belligerence. Less agitation. We reduce the anti-psychotic medication. Once. Twice. A third time. She’s no longer on the medication. No need for it. Because we have dealt with the root cause of the belligerence and agitation. By creating a relaxed, easy-going environment. Positive. Positive. Positive. Every day is upbeat. I practice patience. I express love. The best way I can. I feel blessed. It’s an attitude. I have gone crazy. Crazy in love. I have implicit faith in Jeanne. She has implicit faith in me. Oh, I could go on and on and on. I am able to cope. Because it’s an 8-hour day. Not a 36-hour day. A 24-hour day as a care-giver is an exhaustive, almost impossible task. Only a saint could handle it. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. Year after year. Yes, I'm no saint. Only a simple care-giver...in love. --Jim Broede