My caregivers


In the 1930s, I was considered to be a “sickly child” although I’m not sure just what that meant. I did have a collapsed lung from whooping cough and had to spend six months in a sanitarium (I assure you it was just for rest and recuperation and nothing else) but I don’t remember any other health problems.

As a teenager and young adult, I had no problems.

Now, though, as a senior citizen, I am physically in pretty good health. I don’t have high this or low that nor a bunch of pills. However, a hip replacement nine years ago now requires me using a walker in the house.

Good friends bought me a pretty spiffy one – it has four wheels, a nice size seat and a big basket out front. I have probably put over 100,000 miles on it in the house using the seat to carry everything imaginable from one room to the next.

I keep a cane in the car which I used when out and about in town.

A year and a half ago, it became obvious I needed a walker when going about town too. I got a light weight one, two wheels, no seat, no basket and I had to be able to lift it up into the back seat.

This meant I could no longer go to the grocery store and needed someone to take me.

A good friend in my motorcycle club, no I never owned one, just always got to ride on the back of someone else’s, would graciously take me every two weeks. They live in the south end of the county and I realized that as gracious as he was, I needed to get one more “caregiver” to help me out.

I asked the pastor at my church who was in charge of its seniors to find me someone in their 60s and retired to help me and she did so.

Turns out he is a former Air Force pilot and a super nice guy. He also goes out of his way to assist me without comments and is also great at following instructions. This past week I didn’t need groceries, but just needed to be taken to three different stores in town and I think he rather enjoyed “driving Miss Carolyn” hither and yon. His family also lives in the south end of the county and I am most grateful these gentlemen don’t mind coming up here to help me.

So now I only have to bother each one once a month.

A year ago my 11 year old computer died. Dead. The friend who got it opened long enough to get all my files off it and onto a new computer I am glad to say did not see anything on there I did not want anyone to see.

The gentlemen opening all my cupboards and refrigerator have not seen anything I would not want anyone to see. Those situations are quite satisfying to me.

I have been amazed at the numbers of people, young and old, black and white, tall and short, who go out of their way no matter where I go who stop to see if they can be of help wherever I am. My children now live in Denver and Oregon but I stayed right here in Fayette County and boy! am I now ever glad I did. Thirty years ago not being able to get anywhere except by pushing a walker was unimaginable.