Connections

How social media helped a caregiver be more caring.

- Alice Eberhart-wright

MY HUSBAND, LEE, AND I WERE sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting to hear the results of a stress test. The cardiologist looked grave. “Lee,” he said, “you could drop dead at any moment. Your heart is operating at only twenty-five percent.” Twenty-five percent? Lee had always been so healthy!

Lee’s face turned pale. He seemed a million miles away. “You’ll need bypass surgery,” the doctor went on. “And after that, there’ll be a lot of rehab.” It could go on for weeks, months. Lee wouldn’t be able to lift anything or have energy to do much.

Neither of us was young—I was 75 and Lee was 81—but that had never stopped us from doing the things we loved. Writing and singing folk songs, seeing our friends at the Blackbird (our favorite coffeehouse), going to church, working in the garden at our farm. I’d worked for years as a child therapist, and Lee had only just retired from the public TV station in town, where he’d been a top-notch fund-raiser.

I tried to stay focused on the doctor, but what scared me most was becoming Lee’s caregiver. How would I do it? I dreaded the loss of freedom. And I had very little patience for all the things caregivers were supposed to handle: bedpans, wheelchairs, medications, getting up in the middle of the night, all the constant reassurance and support. It made me feel small just to admit it to myself.

For the next few days, we waited for the surgery to be scheduled and tried not to let our worries run wild. In preparation, we bought two deluxe recliners, comfy enough for Lee to sleep in and for me to be next to him, along with a device to help him stand. That meant I wouldn’t have to lift him. We listened to music and talked. I worked on a 1,500-piece jigsaw puzzle.