My attempts to
help a family member get a handle on a health situation they’re
struggling with is starting make me wonder if I may have been a social worker
in a previous life.
On one hand, I think I’m pretty adept at the requisite problem solving - certainly more so than I’d be for myself - but some days, I’m left drained and frustrated with the push-me pull-you nature of feeling you're getting somewhere to land back at square one. Today was a good day, with us attending an appointment to assess how he’s coping with his symptoms, his mood and his pain management that felt like it will lead to a lot more assistance, plus my arranging another meeting on Thursday to assess whether he’s eligible for more outside care, but I did it all knowing full well things would likely regress the minute everyone looking after him takes a brief step back.
The trick, I think, is to do your best while also allowing time for yourself. A good example of the opposite happened today post-appointment, when I popped to the toilet after leaving an answerphone message with the guy I’d arranged to transport my relative there and back, to say we’d finished earlier than expected. While I was in the loo, my family member shouted to me through the door that the driver had arrived in a way that made it sound like they’d both zoom off before I came out. In the rush, I flushed the chain awkwardly and strained the arm that was already aching from the flu jab I had yesterday, and all because I was trying to do too much at once; it’s a small thing, but it’s indicative of what can happen if you take your eye off the ball for a moment.
Obviously I’d ultimately like to turn things around so my relative is happier with his situation and has got everything under control, but like everyone else involved, I also need to give myself time too. This afternoon, after speaking to social services to confirm our second appointment, I took a moment to meditate for ten minutes to settle my slightly frantic brain; it was a small thing, but it helped. I just wish my relative would try the same things too, as meditation for example would be hugely beneficial for him. Oh well, I’ll just keep pushing while making sure my stock of Valium is at close grasp.
On one hand, I think I’m pretty adept at the requisite problem solving - certainly more so than I’d be for myself - but some days, I’m left drained and frustrated with the push-me pull-you nature of feeling you're getting somewhere to land back at square one. Today was a good day, with us attending an appointment to assess how he’s coping with his symptoms, his mood and his pain management that felt like it will lead to a lot more assistance, plus my arranging another meeting on Thursday to assess whether he’s eligible for more outside care, but I did it all knowing full well things would likely regress the minute everyone looking after him takes a brief step back.
The trick, I think, is to do your best while also allowing time for yourself. A good example of the opposite happened today post-appointment, when I popped to the toilet after leaving an answerphone message with the guy I’d arranged to transport my relative there and back, to say we’d finished earlier than expected. While I was in the loo, my family member shouted to me through the door that the driver had arrived in a way that made it sound like they’d both zoom off before I came out. In the rush, I flushed the chain awkwardly and strained the arm that was already aching from the flu jab I had yesterday, and all because I was trying to do too much at once; it’s a small thing, but it’s indicative of what can happen if you take your eye off the ball for a moment.
Obviously I’d ultimately like to turn things around so my relative is happier with his situation and has got everything under control, but like everyone else involved, I also need to give myself time too. This afternoon, after speaking to social services to confirm our second appointment, I took a moment to meditate for ten minutes to settle my slightly frantic brain; it was a small thing, but it helped. I just wish my relative would try the same things too, as meditation for example would be hugely beneficial for him. Oh well, I’ll just keep pushing while making sure my stock of Valium is at close grasp.