Fragile

We have a team of caregivers who are assigned to Martha's care. Each takes between one and three 24-hour shifts per week, depending upon one of us having something else going on. I am one of five women who care for her.

This past week, one of the team fell ill. It seems she will be out of the picture, either mostly, or completely. Enter a new caregiver.

Exit Martha's comfort.

The phone call came yesterday, from the Agency's office. They explained that a new caregiver was being introduced to the team, and would report for work this morning at 10am. "She's a widow, as well." said the schedule coordinator, hoping this would be a good thing.

 Martha, in her deep and halting speech, replied "I do NOT need some widow trying to tell me how to cope or what to do."

She was deeply disturbed.

Anticipating a new caregiver, on a 24-hour shift, shook her up so much that the rest of the day and into the late night we had tears. I did what I could to calm her and reassure her. The truth came out somewhere between dinner and the bedtime routine. "I used to be able to ask Ralph what he thinks." Ohhhhh.... I get it. This is her first experience breaking in a new caregiver, alone. She's so alone. There will be no second opinion to support her own, as the recliner to her left is now empty.

I got down on my knees and took her hand. "If this new woman is horrible, you call the Agency, and I will get in my car and come back."

This is how that is perceived by Martha's mind: "Someone will change their life to rescue me, therefore I can be strong enough to endure this because I know they think that highly of me." Some people might use this as an excuse to demand you drop everything to cater to them. Not Martha. She matches strength with strength.

There were more tears at bedtime, as she anticipated the worst. She even had a dream about the new caregiver, and said "I'm not going to tell you about it."

Over coffee this morning, Martha started to cry again and said "Ralph loved you so much." Of course, I cried then, too.

"I know he did. I don't know why!"

"Every day Ralph would say - 'Is this Ruth's day?', and he would be so happy if it was."

We each got a tissue.

When the new caregiver appeared at the door, I was so relieved. A very warm smile was gracing her face, and although she's almost 69 years old, she had a pony tail, beautiful gauze shirt, and the personality of one much younger. She was gentle, soft-spoken, and very kind.

I played Ralph's role. I quizzed the new caregiver about her background, told her about her duties at the house, and got a feel for her personality. I watched Martha's face for clues. She seemed relieved and relaxed. I walked our new team member through the home and showed her the daily routine. She was confident, but humble.

It was hard to leave this morning, but I know she'll be okay. The new caregiver will be warming the towels before the shower, and will make a big pot of tea for the afternoon. Routine. Comfort.