Caretaker Take Care

I’ve been writing this specific post for months. 

I have written it, deleted it. Saved the draft, deleted it. The reality is that my blog is for the caretaker. The advocate. The cancer wife. The significant other. The person suffering the shitstorm that is cancer. 

I salute you. 

Not in disrespect to the military, my little brother-in-law is serving, my grandfathers both served. I salute you figuratively. You’re fighting a fight that isn’t even yours. And you’re just as invested in the outcome, because you LOVE someone that has been cursed with cancer. 

I speak only for myself, but I have my faith placed in a man I can’t see. And he’s let me down before. Perhaps that’s just my interpretation and he was just putting me through trials and tribulations to make the woman I am? When and if I meet him I’ll ask. 

I have a small army of support behind me. Our mothers are both within a quarter mile radius. But, most days this caretaker feels alone. Some nights I cry for my kids. Other times I wallow in a little self-pity. It’s normal. I’m grieving the life I longed for. I love a man who has been dealt a shit hand. 

So to the other caretakers out there, I say forget everyone else and remember your struggle. Don’t lose sight of your strength, or the warrior you’re behind. But, acknowledge the battle you’ve been through. There is no shame in taking care of yourself. 

Take a break.

Yeah, I said it. Plan a freaking break. I know I am. 

We went to Disney to make memories with our girls, but before I was a mom, I was a wife. Before we devoted our lives to these tiny humans; we promised them to each other. So we’re going to plan some weekend getaways and get a babysitter. I’m going to plan a girls trip for myself to reconnect with my friends. Because that’s healthy. 

There should be no guilt. If you’re serving your family day in and day out, you are entitled to grieve. And you are certainly entitled to a break. Stop being a martyr. I played the martyr role. It’s silly. 

The bottom line is my husband and I had plans. They’ve been bulldozed by a disease that the entire world despises. So how can I be alone? When there’s so many people that feel what I feel? 

You are never alone caretaker. That is why I wrote this. That  is why I write it all. People share things on social media for suicidal hotlines, and asking people to share it in solidarity. I don’t ask anyone to share this. But, if you are behind someone that is fighting a medical battle, I ask that you remember you’re human. I am human. My parents— they’re human. Matt’s parents— also human. We are allowed to be upset. You are allowed to be frustrated. But, this journey has taught me that you have to take care of yourself while you’re caring for your loved ones. I haven’t realized how quickly resentful feelings can trickle into your day to day life. 

There’s no place for negativity. You can’t waste your energy. Matt says daily all we can do is the best we can do. One day at a time. 

Don’t resent the person you’re standing behind in battle. You’ll drive yourself mad wondering if you did something wrong to deserve the hand you’ve been dealt. 

Resent yourself for not acknowledging you’re human and taking a timeout. 

I have begged my husband not to leave me alone to raise these girls. In the middle of the night I have woken in a cold sweat pleading with him to just keep fighting. If he had a choice it would have never even gotten to this point. We’d still be planning on retirement in Aruba. It’s unfair to ask anything other than their best of your warrior. 

So, I have rambled enough. Re-written the post a time too many. At the end of the day, as cheesy as it sounds “Be kind”. 

Be kind to yourself.