Wednesday, May 19, 2010

...confessions of a reluctant "caregiver"...

I had it in mind to be successful with what I had set out to do after college. But then as it turned out, my plans were not meant to be. After slaving for more than five years in school including the review period, all I got in the end were repeated failures. I became numb to the feeling of receiving "failed" marks that after my last attempt, I dismissed it with utmost indifference.

I recalled a quote that goes, "When a door closes, another one opens." or something like that. True enough, another door opened for me, of which I was not too keen of entering at that time. What am I to do? I had no other choice but to venture out into this altogether new world ahead of me. Since my debacle to be a certified bean-counter, I opted to try something new. And boy, it goes without saying that I breezed through it without much of a problem.

What is a CAREGIVER, anyway? If you have watched the movie with the same title, yeah, that was it. But I always have this nagging question at the back of my mind, how does one become a caregiver? Of course, you have to take a short-term course for it and have OJT, to meet the requirements. To me, it went beyond meeting the school and embassy's requirements. For someone who have never actually understood what it meant to care, I was lost. How does someone show he or she cares? And this is how it all started for me....

1:45 AM. I woke up to the distinct sound of the buzzer. I hastily got out of bed, eyes still heavy with sleep. I went to Mary's room. I helped her out of bed and into the commode. At that moment, sleep temporarily evades me. I have to be alert. I assisted Mary to sit on the commode. Handed her a tissue paper. She said, "Thank you.", slowly. I replied "your welcome" and went to the nearest chair, to wait until she's finished.

In my previous life, I would have fought tooth and nail if I was roused from sleep in the middle of the night. I would be so cranky in the morning. And here I am, getting up instantly at the sound of the buzzer. Never mind that I'm still sleepy; that my hair stood on ends ( I tied it into a pony tail in a hurry); that I feel something wet on my shirt sleeve ( only to realize it was drool ) and when I step inside Mary's bedroom, I am transform, with a cherry "Hi, Mary." to begin with. Sure I am paid to do this. I mean it's part of my job. Lately, I realized that I also get something out of this task, aside from the pay. I woke up in the middle of the night and assisted Mary, not only because I'm paid to do it but also because I want to help her, knowing that she tried also. And I never give it much thought, until now, how the sound of pee can be music to my ears.

1:00 PM. I'm in the kitchen, staring at the opened refrigerator, taking stocked of its contents and thinking about what to make for lunch. I need to hurry because I don't want Mary waiting and go hungry. I spied on a neat pile of individually wrapped slices of cheese. A eureka moment occurred to me. I will make grilled-cheese sandwich for lunch. Super! 

 When all else fails...

I don't know my way around the kitchen, though doing the dishes, is my favorite. I have no culinary skills to speak of. I remembered at school, when we were cooking, I was assigned to break some eggs, one classmate, who was watching me, commented that I don't know how to cook. I smiled back at her. If the way I break an egg can tell someone if I can cook, then I guess, I failed miserably in that area. Later on, when I told my sister, about my grilled cheese sandwich experience, she was like, that's a no-brainer. Yeah, right. Still, I was proud of myself. Finally, I found my way on how to use the stove and the non-stick pan. To me, that is "something". It was awesome.

In the middle of the afternoon. I tried to untangle the heavy and long cord of the vacuum cleaner. I was like, how do I tackle this piece of contraption? Minutes later, after much looking through and enlisting the help of common sense, I was able to put it to work. It feel kind of cool, actually. The sound it make and the vibrating motion, that reverberated through my arm was somewhat familiar.

I do household chores on the sly ( good thing I used to live away from home). I only encountered vacuum cleaners through the movies I watched and from what I've read. The only time I get to hold the real thing was during our practical exam, how to use it and stuff like that, and it was not even plug on. Doing household chores is not really my cup of tea. Growing up, I tried all sorts of excuse to skip it. And now, I just realized how much I missed on doing these things. ( Not that we have vacuum cleaners at home. Far from that actually.) I've discovered how relaxing it is to fold laundry ( except when I get to the fitted sheet part ). Cleaning a toilet bowl and mopping bathroom floors are just that. I survived through it all and now, I just go through it, like I've been doing it all my life. My mother used to tell me that I should learn how to cook, to iron, wash clothes, and all those other household things because what will happen if ( God forbid) I got married and I don't know all these things. Little did we know, that I don't have to get married to do all these stuff. I just go out of my comfort zone and become a caregiver.

I have preconceived notion about caregivers before. I never even think of becoming one. With all the rumors and talks I heard about a caregiver's job, I was not looking forward to working as one. Unfortunately, things I have long for did not pan out. God had other plans and boy, He made sure it happened. I used to think God was playing a cruel joke on me. I mean, me, a caregiver?! I plan on becoming a CPA.

"If life throws you lemons, make an orange juice." I heard this on Ellen ( it was supposed to be, make a lemonade ) Why not change it a bit and have fun. Life has thrown me a lot of lemons in my lifetime, fortunately, with the help of family and friends, I'm still here.

Caregiver or not, I am who I am. I am not defined by my job and other's opinion of me, either uncalled for or constructive. Becoming a caregiver goes beyond attending the required six-month care-giving course and passing it. And most of all, being a caregiver goes beyond doing your job with the sole purpose of receiving your paycheck at the end of two weeks. For me, it simply means, finally reaching out and making a difference ( albeit how small) in someone else's life. The dollar amount is just an icing on the cake.

And now I will shout....for joy!( No, not that.) What I meant to say is that...."CAREGIVERS ROCKS!"


3 comments:

Anonymous said...

lol indeed..and im proud of you.

Carmen said...

YES! YES!

Anonymous said...

God Speed