About caregiverbobby

As strokesurvivorannie's caregiver, I plan to use this corner to communicate tips for being a caregiver that are practical, authentic, helpful, optimistic, and share the humorous side. You get a different person back from the hospital. The elasticity of the brain will let the old and new personality develop, but you have to be patient.



Monday, October 31, 2011

Road Trip


There is prep going on to take a road trip. October was slow on the business front. Middle East is on hold. Several things on the healthcare front are in motion but not committed. What to do when times are slow – road trip? A friend of mine said she admired my ability to keep moving. When “stuff” got difficult or times toughened I always kept moving. I told her I was like a shark, stopping means death. Stopping means thinking. Stopping means something could catch up with me. No stopping. If I am moving there are always new possibilities.
So I’m going to California for a couple days. I’m going to drive. I have metal, several pieces, tools and a rental van. Will post from the road. Adventure. Open space. New stories. I know something interesting will happen...

Monday, October 24, 2011

On being lured in...


The different person will always be there.  You want the “old” person to come back. It’s called hope. It is what drives us. But they will not be back.
And you’ll have to learn to love the new person. 

Sunday, October 16, 2011

“Maybe it is less about grief than remembrance” – Patti Smith

I stumbled on an article about Patti Smith (journalist, rocker, mom, rocker, photographer and still a musician) and her photographs. She still does music. Though I was never a true fan I have always found her fringe lifestyle interesting. The article is about grief and passing and those who died before their time. It touched a nerve.
She goes on to say “grief is an indulgence and it doesn’t serve anyone” a statement with which I agree. I agree because I have delved into grief too much. I have found there are several of us who “grieve” for our lost pre-brain injury lives. One friend sent me a note today referencing Bruce Cockburn’s “Pacing the Cage”. He feels a little contained and we have had several discussions (and I a few blogs) about the grieving for the lost person and “easy” lifestyle we once had. But Patti is right about it not serving anyone. It just puts us in a rut.
When someone dies at a ripe old age the most interesting eulogies are the ones that celebrate life. No sadness or grief. When someone goes prematurely it is different. Our stroke and brain injury survivors are reminders of when we were not caregivers, but rather we were partners. It is hard for both sides of the equation not to miss that life – after all this new life is a lot of work for both. Still, it doesn’t serve anyone to grieve. I like that, if you don’t like the process change the dialogue and the process.
I don’t think for a minute that with a snap we can forget about our old lives. We can’t get them back. We have to move forward. Remembering is good. Annie – as I mentioned – used to have a famous laugh. Once going she could turn an entire restaurant agog. There were times that we’d get her going and it would be infectious. There were times when we wanted to grab a pillow. I remember those times with fondness. Last night Rebecca and I got her going on the way home. She was laughing so hard I think she was in tears. Haven’t heard that in a while. Good memories and a better sign for the future. 
So do I really apply these bits of wisdom? The book Switch: How to Change when Change is Hard, Sarah the nurse, Patti Smith and grief being a wasted emotion… I think the answer is “yes”. It is incremental change of attitude and incremental behavior modifications that turns into a better result over time. Does this caregiver work ever get easier? Probably not, but the energy it takes to dwell doesn’t do much for progress either. Turn that energy to remembering the good times and how to make more of them.

On a side note, my sister was here last week and one of Annie’s sisters came for a couple days. Both sisters are really good for Annie. They are also good for me. Thanks Liz and Rebecca!

Sunday, October 9, 2011

A Conversation with Sarah


This last week I spent three days with 7000 nurses. 7000 people who care for others. It was the ANCC conference in Baltimore. As you might expect the ratio of males to females is still skewed towards women – like 98%. So 6800 plus women were learning by day and partying by night. It was a lot of fun. The focus was Magnet Certification. Magnet is a quality/collaborative designation to a hospital of nurses and physicians working on a process that yields a better product. The product is, of course, a better patient outcome. It is also peace of mind for patients and relatives that the best care is being given. It is additionally an award that instills pride in the workplace. I learned all this in one conversation with a delightful Interventional Radiology nurse named Sarah.
I have struggled for five years with a question: What more could I have done for Annie to improve her outcome? I’ve heard it called “survivor guilt” and I have tried through therapy sessions (though very few) to reconcile the nagging feeling that I should have known more and taken more action. I should have known where to send Annie for the best care. I should have known which hospital provided the best stroke response. When to airlift and how. But the truth is it wasn’t even on the radar. How would one ever expect a perfectly healthy 48 year old woman to have a massive stroke. If either of us was going to have an incident it would have been me. After all, I was the risk taker and possibly the one with the bad habits. But the guilt still permeated my downtime. In the back of my mind I felt there was more I could have done. So my conversation with Sarah drifted to this subject and Sarah knew a lot about it.
In the last five years or so great strides have been made in Interventional Radiology. New tools, devices like shunts, doctor designed special tools, and probably most important a host of new techniques. Unfortunately the equipment and its use remain fairly narrow. In Texas, Houston and Dallas have stroke centers that are state of the art. As one moves further out the equipment tends to be there but the expertise thins. Interventional Radiology in Austin doesn’t match the larger cities. She also pointed out that the expertise in diagnosis has only really developed in the last five years. She also noted the outcomes, while varying widely, are also just beginning to be chronicled. I told her of Annie’s successes and she was in awe. The professionals that do the saving work rarely get to see the long-term result.
Her last words were “Stop beating yourself up”. I’ll try.