Doom & Gloom


Imagine for a moment that you work for Lehman Brothers. One day this week you find out the firm has declared bankruptcy and your job and your retirement fund — poof! — gone. Your daughter left last week for her third tour in Iraq. Your son started college two weeks ago, and now your nest is empty. Your wife was just diagnosed with breast cancer. Oh, and you live in Galveston.

Let’s hope that doom and gloom scenario I just concocted didn’t really happen to anyone. But if you pay attention to the news these days, it seems as if everyone is living that kind of life.

Last night I watched so-called experts shout at each other about our global economic situation. One said, “This is the end of the world as we know it.” I thought: Really? You Wall Streeter in your groovy $800 eyeglasses, your bespoke $2000 suit, your trendy haircut delivered by a manicured ego-maniac who is known solely by a two-syllable, vaguely French first name. How exactly is your life going to change? Only going to make $2 million this year? Poor baby.

Another guy said, “This is a lot of ado about nothing. The fundamentals of the economy remain strong and this is merely a minor correction.” Guess he doesn’t live in Galveston. If he did, he might have a different perspective. He might just be freaking out.

So what’s what? If you’re freaking out about… oh, everything at the moment, how do you start to get a grip and find a way to cope? Are the pessmists right? Or the optimists? Where’s the truth?

Voltaire suggested in his satirical novel Candide that “tending one’s own garden” is the antidote to both unbridled optimism and destructive pessimism. So, can you step back in this moment of uncertainty and look at your own plot? Because that’s where the truth of your own situation lies.

How’s the health of your employer? Your industry? How’s your retirement account? Do you have too large a percentage of your assets tied up in your company’s stock? Need to shift anything?

How’s your personal financial health? Are you making your mortgage payment every month? How are home values in your community? How’s your spending? Are you paying your bills? How’s your insurance set-up? Enough coverage?

Check the health of your own garden so you can compare the shouting match hysteria with your own reality. If your house is still standing and it still has value; if your employer is sound and your investments are spread out; if you are managing to pay your bills; if you and your loved ones are healthy — you’re going to be fine.

You can stop freaking out.

If, however, you’ve got stuff going on, tend your own garden, sweetheart, and tune out the hoopla. Work out a refinance on your home, if possible. Arrange payment with your creditors. Take a second job if you need to, while you get your business off the ground. Drive your spouse to chemo. Send a loving email to Iraq. Move in with your best friends while your house is re-built — hey, it’ll be an adventure no one will ever forget!

It seems to me that the only people benefiting from debating the “worst financial situation since the Depression”, are the folks who want their Warholian fifteen minutes of fame. These people are not reporters or journalists, who are, by and large, a responsible and ethical crowd. The shouters, in my opinion, fan the flames of frenzy just so they can get more and more opportunities to be famous.

And we don’t have to listen to them. All we have to do is tend our own gardens. And remember: this, too, shall pass.

The Caregiver’s Blues


A nasty virus attacked Chez Woodward this week. It was that pounding-head-upset-stomach-sore-throat-low-fever-body-achy- intestinal-distress kind of virus. The kind of virus where the sufferers lay on the couch under three quilts and moan. Or whine. Or that unique combination of both — whoaning.

Yep, everybody got it.

Except me.

Which meant I became the Step And Fetch It Girl. The nurse. I tell you, I was freakin’ Florence Nightingale. And by mid-day Day Three, Flo was mightily ticked off. And exhausted. And way behind in work. And slightly niggled with guilt, feeling like I hadn’t done enough by my sick kids.

This is the predicament caregivers find themselves in. And I felt this way after just three days — I can only imagine what it feels like to care for an ill loved one for months, or years.

The National Alliance for Caregiving and AARP surveyed caregivers and found some interesting statistics:

  • The typical caregiver is a 46-year-old Baby Boomer woman with some college education who works and spends more than 20 hours per week caring for her mother who lives nearby;
  • The average length of caregiving is 4.3 years;
  • Almost 60% of all caregivers either work or have worked while providing care; and,
  • 62 percent have had to make adjustments to their work life, such as reporting late to work or giving up work entirely

The burden on a long-term caregiver can be so difficult to manage. Caregivers often feel anger, guilt, anxiety, exhaustion, an inability to concentrate and depression. These feelings mount, bringing on more unhappiness — “How can I be so selfish to think of myself when she’s so sick?” It’s a spiral downward.

But taking care of yourself will allow you to take better care of your loved one. If you find yourself burned out from caring for someone else, here are a few things you can do:

  • Manage your stress by taking brief breaks for yourself. Take a walk. Read a magazine. Talk with a friend on the phone. Even 15 minutes can be refreshing — and help you recharge your batteries.
  • Build a support group for yourself. Talk with other caregivers — share your experiences and learn from theirs.
  • Share the load. Find people to give you “respite care” — who can come in for an hour or two to allow you to take some time to attend to other things you may have put off to care for your loved one. Giving other people a chance to show they love and care the ill person can be a great gift for everyone involved. You’re only in this alone if you allow yourself to be.
  • Acknowledge to yourself that what you are doing is hard, and give yourself credit for doing the best you can. It’s tough to accept that you might not be able to “fix” the situation, because we all can go to the place where we’re superhuman and “should be able to make this work” — but sometimes… we can’t. And acknowledging that is a step towards maintaining your own balance.
  • Understand what you can control. You might not be able to control a disease, but you can control the information you need to understand the disease and its treatment. You cannot control the ill person’s mood or energy level. You can control your own approach.

Caregiving is perhaps the hardest task we can do for each other. It requires patience, endurance, stamina, and lots and lots of love. But, at its essence, taking care of another requires that you take care of yourself. Only then can you provide those you love with the loving care they need.