Oliver: Sometimes saying no to ‘fun’ can be a form of self-care for a caregiver

Caregivers often hear that they must take care of themselves. It’s probably the No. 1 piece of advice I’ve been hearing since I became a caregiver for my mother with dementia in 2014.

Of course, the very nature of caregiving means putting someone else’s needs above one’s own. Or at the very least, allowing someone else to have an influence on all decisions, plans and routines.

Statistics bear out that a lot of caregivers themselves have health problems, probably made worse when it feels impossible to get to routine exams and to book doctors’ appointments amid the many things that must be done for one’s charge.

That alone probably contributes to the prevalence of depression among caregivers, as well. This is a stressful, often thankless job that most of us do out of love as well as obligation.

Still, at times, we must look in the mirror and be honest. How are we doing? Are we OK?

In the nearly 11 years that I’ve been taking care of people with dementia (first, my mother and then, my husband), I’ve had some serious health problems myself. Sadly, it was the wake-up call I needed to stop procrastinating about my own routine maintenance.

Like a lot of other caregivers, I had my reasons for not scheduling my own doctor’s visits. After all, my mother seemed to have to go to the doctor for one thing or another so frequently that I didn’t feel I had the time.

Then, in 2015, my beloved husband, Tony, was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease. Granted, after the initial flurry of appointments, his scheduled trips to the doctor are more in line with a healthy person. Of course, he’s also about 30 years younger than my mother was when she lived with me.

However, taking care of oneself goes beyond making it to the general practitioner once a year. It also means paying attention to one’s mental state and making sure to carve out some “me” time, even if that spurs a pang or two of guilt. Hey, we must be OK to provide good care.

This part has been a bit more difficult for me, I must admit. I find that once I’m in a state of burning the candle at both ends, I have a hard time stopping and taking some time off.

That’s why I’m grateful that one of my friends insisted on making sure that once a month, I have some “girl” time or can do something just for me.

One of the reasons I didn’t do that for myself is that I usually have two options: Take Tony with me to wherever I’m going or schedule someone to be with him. Frankly, the first one is a lot less work on the front end, and for a long time, that was my go-to option.

As Tony’s condition has worsened, things have become more complicated on all fronts. He’s now at a point where he reminds me of a toddler: He babbles a lot, gets into everything and anything that’s not placed out of his eyesight or grasp, and can be super stubborn if he doesn’t want to do what you want him to do. Sadly, he’s bigger than a toddler, so there’s not much I can do with some of this.

As the weather warms up, we still get a few invitations to get-togethers and barbecues. In the past, we wouldn’t have had to think about it too hard and find a way to be there.

Even as recently as a couple of years ago, we were still able to go to functions as a couple. Of course, people weren’t completely sure how to approach Tony, but most of our friends at least tried. Still, there was stress for me as I tried to keep an eye on him and still mingle.

These days, trying to take Tony somewhere for an extended amount of time requires the level of planning and packing that taking a toddler to the beach might. Not that I know anything about that, other than knowing that mothers often look like they’re packing for a trip. That’s where I find myself these days.

So, despite the logistics it takes to get someone to sit with Tony at home, that option becomes the easier one.

Of course, sometimes I still think that I can handle taking Tony along. That is, until the day of the function arrives and I just don’t have the energy and willingness to schlep around a backpack, knowing that Tony could decide within 10 minutes of arrival that he really doesn’t want to be there.

That’s the kind of stress that takes the rest and relaxation out of recreation.

Sometimes not going at all is the way for me to take care of myself. Disappointing, but true.

• Joan Oliver is the former Northwest Herald assistant news editor. She has been associated with the Northwest Herald since 1990. She can be reached at jolivercolumn@gmail.com.