Tag: caregiving

To Kill the Longing

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We inched down the winding mountain pass toward the ocean, smothered in a thick fog. After ten hours on the road through a fierce thunderstorm, our nerves were frayed. We rounded a curve and our headlights caught a raccoon in the middle of our lane.

The light dissolved his eyes into a watery green glow. He reared up in hapless defiance and raised his little paws as if to fend us off.

My husband swerved, barely missing.

So far, it was the most positive thing that had happened on the trip.

It was our first real family vacation in sixteen years. A generous cousin offered us the use of their beachfront rental for a week on the Oregon coast. Knowing a trip of that length would test our ability to travel with Kevin’s extensive medical needs, we planned as carefully as we could.

Then the week before the trip, The Resistance began. Aaron’s mother had a medical emergency and was ordered by her doctor to go immediately into an assisted living center. The family was inundated with a myriad details to get her moved within a few days.

The day before we left, we were still taking care of her issues while trying to pack. That night, there was a thunderstorm, taking out the power for two hours. Since Kevin sleeps on a ventilator at night, we had to switch his equipment over to emergency power and watch to make sure he was okay.

We left the next day after a few hours of sleep. Immediately out of the driveway, our nearly new van flashed a warning light. We spent an hour in town getting it checked out.

Back on the road again, we watched an ominous storm gather around us. It descended in earnest over the Columbia Gorge. A gale slammed us sidelong and threatened to blow us off the road. Lightning hit so close we actually had to try to keep from touching anything metal inside the van. Thunder boomed above our heads.

We hit Portland during rush hour. “Margie,” our little GPS guide, taunted us by commanding us to crisscross between lanes of heavy traffic. We turned her off and found our own way.

We finally made it to the coastal highway, only to be hit with a heavy rain. As we inched down the winding mountain pass, we were wrapped in a heavy fog.

We arrived at our lovely beach house shaken but unhurt. Our son and daughter-in-law arrived a few hours later, telling much the same story.

“It felt like something out of ‘This Present Darkness,’ ” my daughter-in-law mentioned.

Bingo.

All the time I thought it was just me. The warfare was so intense, it was insane. It didn’t make sense.

My first thought was, “It’s not like it was a Billy Graham Crusade. Why should the devil care that we’re going on vacation?”

Before the week was over, however, I realized why the battle to get there was so fierce. It was a truly blessed time. We played together and prayed together. God spoke to us in the Christian music, the fellowship, the laughter, and the peace. We stood on the beach and listened to the sea. We watched the sun set the water on fire every evening and gloried in the blaze as it sank into the horizon.

I got to see my beloved extended family again. We swapped family stories and laughed and cried until it hurt so good.

In Brazil they use the phrase “Matar saudades.” It literally means, “to kill the longing.” For sixteen years, we have lived in the valley of the shadow. Life has been hard. Many of the simple joys have gone by the wayside as we struggled to make it through each day. For the most part, we’ve adjusted to our new normal and submitted to the discipline it takes to keep Kevin healthy.

We’ve learned to accept hardship as our path. We didn’t expect to encounter something so extravagant, so rich, so abundant. To be blessed with such generosity. To be alive just for the fun of it. To kick sand in the face of loss.

Now I know why it was such a struggle to get here. This was more than a vacation. We came to kill the longing.

 

Photo courtesy Grace Thorson 

 

Recently I had the honor of being featured in an interview with author Aaron Gansky. Check out the interview at http://aarongansky.com/author-spotlight-pamela-thorson/.

You are Invited

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If you’re reading this today, you’re alive.

Maybe you don’t feel that way.  Instead, you’re barely holding on. You feel numb, unworthy of God’s love.

It’s especially easy to feel that way if you’re one of the thousands of people suffering from chronic disease or devastating injury. Perhaps you’re one of the millions of people who care for them. Either way, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have what most would call a “normal” life.

Boy, have I been there.

Our son’s spinal cord injury in 1997 plunged him into the world of disability and dumped me into the world of caregiving. I quickly learned that the fight for life is as primal as it gets.

It’s a lonely trip. It’s an honor. It’s a tightrope walk between the two stretched over a chasm of uncertainty.

Today I’ve served more than two decades as a caregiver. Every step of the journey, God has held us, even when I didn’t know He was there. His comfort has been the golden oil sustaining me through every trial. He has taught me to relish each day I can breathe and think and worship my Creator.

Rejoicing in the Lord always.

Trusting in a faithful Father for tomorrow.

Life is a gift, an invitation to a very special party. Let’s treasure what we have this moment and believe God will keep eternity safe for us, for the day when the lame walk and God dries our tear-stained faces.

That day’s coming. Until then, we will conquer whatever comes, together. No matter what you’re going through right now, you can be assured you are never, ever alone. You’re important to God, and you’re important to me.

You’re alive. You’re safe. You’re precious in His sight. 

That’s worth singing about. Come on, join the celebration!

5 Ways to Ease Caregiver Strain

 

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My latest issue of Nursing 2013 came in the mail yesterday. Usually I set magazines aside for later reading, but the title article on this one caught my eye immediately:

Easing the burden on family caregivers

I’ve been a full-time caregiver of a high-level quadriplegic son for sixteen years. I love my job, but I’m always willing to learn anything to ease the workload. I grabbed it and scanned past the clinical stuff to get to the end. I wanted to see what their ideas were for “easing the burden.”

As I guessed, there was no magic bullet, no miraculous new methods for helping family caregivers. There were, however, some things worth noting. Today I’ve pulled out a few of their ideas and added a few things we’ve learned over the years to share with those who care for loved ones.

5 Ways to Ease Caregiver Strain:

1. Learn to depend on others for help.

Caregiving is a marathon. No one can take on such duties day after day after day without respite or assistance. It’s hard to ask others for help, to feel needy. But those around you may wish they could help somehow and just not know what to do. If you’re not comfortable with having them take over the actual caregiving duties, you could see if they would be willing assist you in chores once in a while. If you have the financial resources, you can also pay for such chores as yard work and picking up groceries to save valuable time and energy.

Getting help not only relieves the physical burden, it allows both caregiver and patient a chance to interact with others, a vital necessity for both physical and emotional health.

2. Adapt an assertive, rather than a passive, coping style. 

Those who are naturally more passive are more susceptible to crumbling under the burden of caregiving. They tend to stay isolated, worry more, ask fewer questions, and develop a negative attitude.

A healthier coping lifestyle involves actively taking charge of the situation, asking questions and pursuing the answers that will benefit both the caregiver and the patient.

3. Learn all you can.

Understanding what is happening to your family member is crucial to providing the best care with the least amount of emotional strain. Research the disease process or injury, available treatments, and the usual prognosis. It’s especially important to know such basic techniques as how to correctly turn a person in bed, infection control, and bed sore prevention. Know what community, church, and government resources are available.

4. Be kind to yourself.

Caregivers often put the needs of their loved ones ahead of their own needs. In order to take good care of others, you need to be good to yourself, as well. This is easier said than done, since it’s often hard to find time for anything besides work. Try to give yourself permission to care for you. Your family member needs for you to be well.

Hospital emergency departments employ a term called “triage” to decide which patients should be treated first. The idea is to put the most important cases at the front of the line. Do this with your life. Develop your own triage system to care for the “worst first” in your day. If a chore can wait until tomorrow and you’re exhausted, put it at the end of the line. This works well for emotional issues, too. Don’t waste your tears on things that aren’t worth your energy.

5. Talk to someone.

Develop an emotional support system. Have at least one or two people who you can call when you need to cry, vent, or just talk. Don’t just run to those who will agree with everything you say, though. Develop friendships with those who will listen and speak the truth. It’s a two-way street; engaging with others gives our lives new perspective. It may even ignite a fresh appreciation for all we have gained through our own situations.

 

In the War for Independence, Who Will Be Their Voice?

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Learn to do good;
Seek justice,
Reprove the ruthless;
Defend the orphan,
Plead for the widow.

Isaiah 1:17 NASB

A heat wave has gripped the nation as the United States celebrates Independence Day. In the midst of withering triple-digest temperatures, a cold wind blows. The chill is coming from the icy fingers of death…the death, that is, of compassion.  

On July 4th of every year we cheer the American Revolution, committed to the radical notion that every human is equal in the eyes of his Creator and deserving of the most basic of freedoms: 

Life.

Liberty.

The pursuit of happiness.

How ironic that the end stage of such a war would, over two hundred years later, those three essential rights would come with asterisks, that the basic foundation stones for our society would be moved at will by those to whom we have charged the defense of our nation.

Today life is only granted for those who are deemed wanted or useful to society. Disabled, defective, or incomplete humans have no place in Darwin’s brave new world of the survival of the fittest. As medical resources have become more scarce, we are already in the process of moving quietly toward allocating care to those most likely to benefit from it in restored contribution to society. 

The tenets of liberty and the pursuit of happiness have also been perverted to legalize perversion and squash religious freedom. The long slide down this slope began decades ago, when we began throwing innocence in the trash along with unborn babies, nativity scenes, and school prayer. 

I’ve been there. I’ve seen it. Over twenty years ago, I was fighting to keep the doctor from making my disabled mother die because, in his words, “Her life is worthless.” This was not a woman in a coma, but simply crippled and silenced by strokes. 

When she first knew something was going wrong in her body, she told me, “Pam, give me every chance to live.” When the time came to give her that chance, the doctor didn’t even ask what she would want. She was worthless, no longer counted.

Sixteen years ago, I was fighting to keep the doctor from pulling the plug on our son after his spinal cord injury. Kevin also wasn’t in the mood to die, but that doctor didn’t ask his opinion, either. Evidently, he no longer counted in the economy of life.

One fight occurred in America; one in Canada; but both were part of the deliberate parade toward exterminating those who do not fit our definition of “useful.” This march transcends nations, politics, and administrations. It’s not being orchestrated by doctors, nurses, or even politicians. It’s the heavy boot step of an unseen enemy with one goal: to destroy all humanity and thus hurt and rob the Creator who made us.

He’s found plenty enough help from us. Our society is sick; in fact, our world is sick. As we fall collectively farther and farther from God, the compassion and care for others that naturally flows from His heart falls with it. Life no longer has dignity by virtue of being. The body is no longer considered the temple of a living soul, but a glob of throbbing tissue and random brain waves. Life itself is open to interpretation.

It’s all been complicated by the advance of medical technologies that have blurred the lines between living and dying. When to give up has become harder and harder to decide. I understand the pain endured by many families in making the tough medical decisions necessary for their sick and injured loved ones.

This isn’t about those issues.

This is about speaking for those without either voice or choice. It’s about remembering that we are made in the image of of the great I AM; valued because we are. It’s about those with power using that power to protect the powerless. No one should have to prove that they can be useful on order to deserve life. 

No one but God has the right to give and take life. Nor does anyone have the right to decide who is worthy of our care. The more I learn about what is being done today in the name of medicine, the more I mourn, and the more I determine this:

For those without a voice: I must speak.
For those whose limbs are silent, I will, by the grace of God, be their hands and feet.
To a hurting world, I long, with all my heart, to be the expression of His comfort.

America, America, as we celebrate this birthday, may God shed His grace on us, the undeserving. 

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