Lobsters in my Dreams, Signaling the End of Summer …

There were several good reasons for abandoning our plans. Delta angst had been growing over the past three weeks. We were feeling the need to take strict precautionary safety measures because two of our party of nine is aged 85+ (and the rest of us aren’t spring chickens, either!). We’d all agreed to wear masks inside. Despite our concerns, all systems were “go” up until three days prior to flying.

Then at the last minute, one sister and a cousin cancelled out of an abundance of caution (due to unavoidable attendance at a large-scale event just prior to our reunion). Then there was the straw that, for two more of us, broke the camel’s back - Hurricane Henri was headed right toward our destination, scheduled to hit the day of our flight!

There was lots of discussion and backing-and-forthing in the 24 hours before my other sister and I cancelled. In truth, we were already on the fence, so when our underlying fears became more concrete, Henri did a fine job of pushing us over the line.

Pandemic-level disappointment … The prolonged pandemic has brought many disappointments, not the least of which is the flexibility to travel. Like so many of you, I used to hop on a plane at the drop of a hat! It all seems to be such a pain in the neck now – not to mention, downright dangerous.

From the beginning of our planning (way back in May), there had been much discussion over whether we should attempt this in the middle of a pandemic. Most of us would be flying into Boston from Arizona, Texas, and South Carolina. But several months ago it seemed do-able, so we decided to go for it.

As the summer wore on, we all enjoyed planning our outfits for the trip, cleaning out closets while working on the perfectly fashionable carry-on pack. We had giggly chats with cousins we hadn’t spoken with in quite some time, planning menus and side trips. Overall, we had 2.5 months of hopeful, anticipatory glee, a very welcome distraction from daily Covid life.

The aftermath and reality of my NOT being on vacation in New England this week has left me in a reflective state, thinking about life during the pandemic, how quickly things can change, and also how much it’s like the days when I was caregiving for my Mom. The more I think about it, the more I’m finding strong parallels between what it’s like “living with Covid” and “living with caregiving!”

Now most of us are caregivers at some level … The prolonged pandemic has turned most of us into caregivers, broadening the age of caregivers to include Millennials and GenXers, and shining a harsh spotlight on the gaps in our aging and healthcare systems.

Even if you’re an indirect caregiver, or you’re at the early days of your caregiving with aging loved ones, you’ve most likely seen an increase in the need for your support during the pandemic, as we all work to protect and stay in better touch with the most vulnerable.

If you’re directly caregiving, you’ve absolutely felt the added pressures from the pandemic, escalating your already-socially-distanced life and efforts to stay healthy.

If you’re not currently tasked with caregiving responsibilities, you’ve been given a golden glimpse into the future to help you see what it’s going to be like, based on your experience living with Covid.

Here then, are the top 10 ways that living with Covid is like caregiving!

1. You never know what’s going to happen … like with this vacation, we knew something could go wrong; we did our best to anticipate and plan accordingly, only to have our hopes dashed. With caregiving and with Covid, you’re constantly operating on thin ice, never knowing when the other shoe is going to drop. One of the first impacts on my personal life when my Mom was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer was the cancellation of a much-needed vacation I’d been longing for following a two-year stint of overworking and feeling depleted. As a result, I went into my caregiving situation in a weakened state,
2. You worry over your immune system and staying well (for yourself AND for your aging loved ones) … I remember when I was caregiving, I was over-the-top about the slightest sniffle, since I knew if my Mom caught anything, it could be the end of her. Covid has super-charged these concerns and made most people hyper-vigilant.
3. You’re finding it challenging to practice self-care … you feel you’re gaining weight and generally losing strength because of your less active lifestyle. It’s hard to stay focused on yourself with so many distractions, and you feel your daily attentions to your own self-care - sleep, nutrition, exercise, time for yourself, enlightening inputs - are slipping.
4. You live a socially distanced life … as part of caregiving, I was cut off from socializing with friends, in part due to concerns over bringing germs back into our environment, and also sheer lack of time due to all of my other responsibilities. It hurt not having this aspect of my life. With Covid, the self-isolation is more intense and more strictly enforced, and it definitely has a negative impact on mental health.
5. You don’t know when it’s going to end … as the pandemic has dragged on, the never-ending-ness of it is really weighing on me. WHEN will it end? Will it EVER end? How can I bear this for much longer? My own caregiving experience lasted for only 1.5 years – about the same time we’ve been living with Covid. I definitely thought and felt all of these things during that time. It’s important to note the average length of caregiving is four years; just imagine the strain and stress of having these prolonged Covid-like living conditions for that long!
6. You’re worried about the future – and wondering if you’ll ever be happy and carefree again … so much has changed. Life as we knew it has morphed into something new and not that much fun. That happens with caregiving, too. Near the very end of my caregiving experience, I wrote a very close friend: “I wonder if I will ever be my same, happy self again?”
7. You’re exhausted with talking about it, but the pressure remains … there is an underlying uneasiness about the situation that nothing can really fix. You get up every day and try, try again. You feel you could probably benefit from talking with a professional.
8. You’re tired of eating the same foods all the time … Without the change of pace provided by restaurants, mealtimes have lost some of their sparkle. When I was caregiving, we couldn’t go out to restaurants like before because it was a huge effort to transport my Mom. Staying home was just an easier choice, especially as we neared the end. We were also limited with the types of food she could eat; while I could have cooked separately for myself, that seemed like way too much effort. With Covid, we’ve all fallen into routines with our cooking and eating, and I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s getting old.
9. You’ve been cranky with those you’re closest to … Ahhhh, yes. I definitely snapped at my Mom a few times during our caregiving journey, and I regret it to this day. Similarly, I’ve lost it during Covid, on several occasions. I reassure myself: I’m only human!
10. Life doesn’t seem to be as much fun as before … This is also true for both living with Covid and caregiving. But it also brings up the concept of choosing to make any experience a positive one. With caregiving, I made that active choice early on, and it helped make my caregiving experience one I learned from, and am proud of. With this current circumstance, I started my non-vacation time – when I woulda-shoulda-coulda been eating lobsters – by committing to re-grouping, eating healthy, and catching up. – and being extra-nice to myself. I’m also very much looking forward to the Zoom call we’re organizing for my Aunt’s birthday in a few days … with five of the original nine attending in person, and the remaining four of us attending virtually. A true (and typical) pandemic story!

Let me know YOUR thoughts on how living with Covid is like living with caregiving; I’d love to hear what you think!

Meanwhile, if you went on vacation this summer (or recently), good for you! I was able to take a short trip back in mid-May, to Sedona, AZ, and it was a wonderful change of pace. The takeaways from getting away are phenomenal.

If you were not able to go (like this time, for me), I hope you can find and acknowledge the positive aspects, and use the time you have for good purpose, making it special nonetheless.