Caregiver Stories

Read fellow caregivers’ stories and share your own . . .

Welcome to FCA's online storytelling section. What better way to learn about family caregiving if not from those who have been there. Please consider submitting your own story. Visit our online form here.


At nine years old, I lost my dad. So young, however so wise to know I needed to help my mom with my brothers and sister. You see, my mom was not well so I was the “fill-in mom.” At the age of sixteen, my mom died leaving six children. As we got older, I found myself caring for four siblings as they were diagnosed with Huntington’s disease. There were no support groups within miles; there was no one who really understood my frustrations let alone the disease.
My husband, Gary, survived ten years with late-stage prostate cancer. Ten good years. He wasn’t supposed to live that long. There were no “For Dummies” books on how to do this, so I made my share of mistakes as caregiver. But I also learned some great life lessons — lessons about slowing down with the patient; about removing my Super Hero cape and accepting help; about the importance of self-care. I discovered that people want to be part of our stories, which means we should let them love on us as we travel this noble, sweet, heart-wrenching, care-giving passage. 
I’m going to bury my face in a pillow and scream if one more person tells me to be sure to take care of myself. Go for a walk, take a vacation, they advise. I know they are trying to help, but really? Telling me one more thing to do? Oh well, they are just doing the best they can.
To keep my story as short as possible, I would first like to say that my mom is one of the strongest women I know, she was petite, had many conditions but she was in high spirits, strong, cared and loved everyone and kept a smile on her face.
Momma had another seizure this morning following 2 days of inconsolable, raving hallucinations. She’s been under hospice care the past 2 months and, until this event, had been showing signs of improvement as they’ve weaned her off some medications. Dad witnessed the first part of her seizure – a ghoulish shriek warping into a convulsive fit.
It’s always hard to be with someone for up to 16 hours a day and just watch them whittle away and not be able to do anything to help. All you can do is just sit there and watch and pray that every day when you walk in those doors that they are having a good day. I always start my day the same way. I walk in with a smile on my face and open up the blinds and prepare breakfast and in those moments there’s just something magical because for a split moment it’s like Ms. Lois is young and well and for a brief moment everything is calm.
Hello, I am new to this site and after reading a few of the stories I am actually glad to find out that I’m not so crazy and the emotions I have are normal.
My friend just died prematurely and alone because her spouse was incompetent. He ignored physical symptoms she had and did not get medical care for her until she was critically ill. I urged him for a month to take her to physician. Others did, as well. But he couldn't seem to put this into action, rather kept wondering. I must add he is a psychiatrist very divorced from physical medicine. He kept thinking all symptoms were mental.
I stared doing caregiving in a facility about eight years ago. It started off as doing internship, but it really grew on to me after I met an elderly couple who were in the home together. Not a day would go by that they wouldn’t be together. I grew a bond with both. They had no kids as the wife was unable to. I still care for them and they are as healthy as can be. They make coming to work enjoyable.  
I began at the age of 14 helping my mom care for my grandpa who was paralyzed from his waist down and also had Alzheimer’s. My mom couldn't lift him as she had back issues from an accident. So after years of caring for my grandpa and seeing so many elderly people not getting the love or attention in convalescent homes I decided to continue my career caring for elderly.
I have been taking care of others since I can remember. In high school I did first aid classes ... hospital volunteering. Then I got married and raised two children ... helped with grandchildren ... worked as a nursing assistant in a hospital, 27 years ... did home care ... volunteer in EMS, fire ... took care of grandparents ... and both my husbands' parents and my parents. I have also helped some neighbors. I enjoyed doing it all. But … my mom was the last to die two years ago … and I feel lost … empty. It just seems to being hitting me now.
My love of 46 years took a turn starting this January. Congestive heart, failure hospitalization. Blindness from macular degeneration and retinitis pigmentosa progressing. March hospitalization due to extreme hallucinations due to depression drug. Very weak, legs have lost strength. Only use wheelchair to move him about now. Due to depression and sudden change in his life, has lost about 30 pounds. Wants to stay in bed and sleep. I believe it is ADULT FAILURE TO THRIVE. On bad days, refuses all prescription meds for heart. Anger and frustration are daily.
I am a former caregiver for my mom with Alzheimer’s. It affects so many people, and will only increase and cause devastating emotional and financial problems. This community (Alzheimer’s) needs so much help, and I see it’s not being discussed or taken seriously.
I’m not really living any dream anymore, only a thick, dark fog. After the first TBI my son suffered, on Mother’s Day in 2015, I thought our broken family was putting the lives we now had back together. Not to be. My son was attacked by some unbelievably shallow people and they tried to kill him. Needless to say he has a new head injury and a few severe physical disabilities added. My problem is with the lack of communication between the doctor’s and families because he’s now 18. Adds many insults to an already fractured family structure.
My story is about our daughter Britani. She was a normal healthy child, but at the age 22 while in college she developed type 1 diabetes. No one in the family has this condition. Things started to go done hill at age 26, she started with diarrhea nonstop up to 30 times a day. We have tried local doctors, Cleveland Clinic, two years back and forth to U Penn, Temple, and three years with Thomas Jefferson. All would do the same tests. After everything was said and done they all have the same diagnosis. None, we are sorry but sometimes there isn’t an answer.
I started caring for my 96-year-old grandmother in 2014. Since then my life has changed completely. At first I was overwhelmed with the task of caring for her: depression set in, my heath started to deteriorate. My grandmother has no mental health issues, but I’m the only one caring for her. I have no help at all. What I found I had to do was place more trust in Christ to give me the strength and wisdom to handle this walk in my life.
My wife Marcia was a loving mother, friend, sister, aunt, and daughter. She extended genuine warmth and affection to each and every person she knew, always accepting without judgment. She was fiercely loyal to her family and friends, like a mother bear with her cubs.
My parents lived together and they received 24-hour homecare because my father was bedbound at home. Unfortunately, on January 26, 2016, my father passed away from pancreatic cancer. I had to step in and become the caregiver to my elderly mother with mental illness (paranoid schizophrenia, diabetic, and glaucoma). Despite my mother’s aliments she was not qualified for full home attendant services.
The decisions we have to make in life so often seem difficult to me. When my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’ s disease I had the job of my life. I never dreamed I would be so fortunate in the job market as this. Management at the company I was working for were understanding and kind. They gave me every opportunity to do more, to learn more, to have a bigger role at the company. I could not have had a better situation except that everyday was a real challenge for me because my husband was also very ill. He was in his last year of terminal cancer.
This personal story is two different stories with two different twists. Since my childhood I have always been close to my grandmother. Throughout my teens and adulthood I learned what diabetes was and how to deal with that situation and how to care for an individual who has that illness. Before I used to panic and just call the ambulance, but now I know how to deal with it and learnt all the steps that I seen my mother do as she cares for her, too.

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