Caregivers: You are TOTALLY the heroes

I’ve written about how caregivers aren’t the heroes and my struggle with wanting credit for my role as a caregiver in the face of my husband’s incredible resilience, determination and strength. But is what I do worthy of wearing the cape? Am I a hero too? Let’s examine:

Carrying the load vs just getting through this thing called life

That whole list of things I manage? (The meals and the emotional support and the paperwork and the school stuff and the bills and the dog and the schedules and the lawn and and and….) A lot of people, particularly women and mothers, will say “Yup, that’s my everyday life.” It’s the often uneven burden carried by one partner over another and what blogger and author Emma describes as the mental load. [If you haven’t read this comic, drop everything and do so immediately. You will feel SEEN. Then order her book because someone who has nailed what moms have been feeling since the dawn of time deserves to get credit for that. And then order one for every one of your friends because they need to feel seen too. Pass it on.]

(For the record, I do completely relate to that comic and at the same time my husband is a wonderful partner who carries a lot of the load with me. They can both be true.)

The difference is that on top of the regular mental load/mom load/working professional load, I’m also supporting a cancer patient both physically and emotionally and carrying all of my own fears and emotions that go along with that. It’s a fucking lot. Then again, isn’t everyone always dealing with something?

Doing the work vs getting help

I’m both doing this all on my own and also getting help. There’s a problem if I’m doing it all on my own: Either the community of support isn’t stepping up or I haven’t asked for, acknowledged or outlined the help I need.

But having help doesn’t mean zero effort. For example, meal trains are amazingly wonderful and take a huge burden off families—but still require a level of management from identifying what your family will or won’t eat to figuring out coverage or leftover usage on the nights that aren’t covered.

Not to mention that there are still breakfasts, school lunches and snacks to cover. (Thinking of which, it never occurred to me before but that is TOTALLY something caregivers should include in their meal train requests—stuff for sandwiches or lunch snacks or or ready-made egg muffins or a batch of oatmeal or a ‘meal’ of fridge essentials.)

Managing it all vs letting things go

Not all of the things HAVE to get done. Sometimes it’s okay to let things go even if just to see what happens. Didn’t mow the lawn? Not the end of the world. Got a nastygram from the HOA? Let them come at you and relish the moment when you pull out the cancer card as your explanation. (Let’s be real: A shit deal in life doesn’t mean you can’t win a hand once in a while, even if it’s a petty one.)

All of this examination is still just going back and forth. Heroism with caveats.
I’m a hero too, dammit! Are you, or is it just life?
But I feel like I’m doing something important here! Sure you are, but does it really count if you have help?
But don’t I deserve some credit? Yeah, but remember you didn’t do all the things, some of it you just let go. No credit for that.

So am I a hero too or am I not deserving of that title?

It’s less about whether or not you’re a hero and more about who’s saying it.

That’s when I realize it’s less about the hero-hood dubbing and more about the one doing it. Me saying I’m a hero comes with too many asterisks, too many doubts. The hero telling me I’m a hero? Now that means something.

It’s about acknowledgement

So in the end, it’s about acknowledgment.

For me, it’s about a direct and vocal acknowledgment of what I’m carrying. I want my husband to say it, I want my kids to believe it, I want other caregivers to feel it for themselves. Hell, I want and need to believe it for myself—to fully embrace the “Damn girl, you really are doing amazing through all of this” without adding a single caveat. Because the acknowledgment isn’t just about what you’re giving, it’s about what you’re giving up.

It wasn’t too long after my conversation with my kids that I realized how much I needed this acknowledgment, so here’s what I did:

1. Listened to “Good Job” by Alicia Keys. Had all the feels. Rinsed and repeated.

2. Allowed myself to believe it when my husband says he appreciates me.

The fact is, he has and continues to tell me how I’ve been an essential part of his resilience and strength. I often dismissed it, however, thinking “Well of course, yes, I’ve been doing the things so you can recover.” I heard him, but didn’t truly listen: He was telling me outright that I helped save his life. The strength in him was honoring the strength in me. I’ve learned to listen and accept that.

3. Asked my husband to talk to our kids about my heroism.

I needed him to acknowledge to them that he couldn’t have done what he’s done without me. That his recoveries were possible because I helped make them so. That his strength was his own and also from me. But beyond that, that carrying the burdens I shouldered and soldiered through has been a heroic act in and of itself. Me saying it to them wouldn’t have the same impact. His leading the conversation made it real for me, and hopefully will help in teaching our kids that strength has many different forms and varieties. Sometimes it’s quiet, hidden.

4. Shared this blog with him.

Just as I cannot know all of the things Antonio has gone through as a cancer patient—not just physically, but mentally, because I’m sure that’s some SHIT right there—Antonio has not been a caregiver. This blog helped him see beyond what was in front of him, and allowed him to understand the feelings I kept to myself, the rest of the iceberg that made up my experience. His reaction after reading my first drafts was one of the most beautiful moments of our life together, and I will never forget how much he honored me then and still.

5. Learned to wear my own goddamn crown.

With the cape. And hell, throw in a scepter while I’m at it. Because it’s important to acknowledge to myself what I’ve done and will continue to do with no caveats. There is no perfect amount of heroism. There is no “less than” when you’re giving all you’ve got.