I adore my sweet 98-year-old mother but her needs are increasing. We were up twice this week in the middle of the night because she was having trouble breathing and last night she dealt with severe mystery pains.
As a caregiver, I often feel like I have one hand paused to dial 911 while the other explores a growing arsenal of medicine, herbs, essential oils, creams, hands-on-healing, dialogues with healing angels, positive affirmation, heating pads, humidifiers, pillows and anything I can think of to comfort her. The top of her dresser looks like an apothecary store.
It does help having a CNA five hours a day. Unfortunately, the insurance policy responsible for that assistance runs out in two months. Then I will be on my own. At this point, the only way I can afford continued help is if I generate a few thousand dollars more a month, but how can I make that kind of money and still take care of her?
In a bizarre twist of fate, two years ago both mom and I were injured in isolated events. She fell and broke her nose; I fell and shattered my elbow. For months she had difficulty breathing and sleeping. I underwent four operations, was hospitalized for an infection, and had daily nursing care with both of my arms hooked up to machines.
Caring relatives and friends all rallied, but even in my condition I was the main caregiver, just as I am now. Those first few months I often cried myself to sleep. I felt like I was living in the Twilight Zone, that 1950’s drama where science fiction mixes with reality.
That’s when we activated the long-term care policy my mother had been paying for years and when we began getting help on a daily basis. Such a relief knowing mom was in the care of someone kind and attentive.
For years I’ve worked from home consulting for authors. I took a break after my injury, but once I was able to type again I resumed working for two truly exceptional individuals: Norma Locker and Bob Danzig. The radiant Dr. Locker, who was still driving and beautifully coifed in her nineties, passed away a year ago. I miss her. Recently, Bob, a golden-hearted jewel of a man I’ve worked with for the past six years, departed. One day he was sitting by my side telling inspiring life stories. The next, he was a gentle voice on the phone reassuring me he was at peace with his decision to stop all treatments and go into Hospice. I miss him too, everyday.
It was an honor working with both Norma and Bob, and it’s an honor caring for my mother. But trying to fit my own life in between the needs of others has not been easy. I’ve given the matter a lot of thought, and although I do need the funds to hire a caregiver for mom I’ve decided not to take on any more clients.
I need something less demanding, and I need the energy to follow through on whatever that something is.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and ask for help. “Please, guide me towards increased energy and increased income.”
A day passes. I sit down at my desk and open Facebook. What’s this? There is a bright light on the screen next to a comment from my friend Ilene.
Things like this have happened before. I see, or hear, or sense, or feel something that calls to me. As if my soul is beckoning me to follow.
I call Ilene. “I saw a bright light around your comment on Facebook. Thought I’d ask you about it.”
“I haven’t slept this well in years,” she says, “I am using a homeopathic HGH Gel that has improved my sleep and my energy. I’ve never found one product which has impacted my overall well being this way. I became a distributor to share these benefits with others, and it has increased my income and pays for my product.”
Did she just say her energy and her income have improved? Is this an answer to my prayers?
I look at the website Ilene directs me to. It gives me the option of becoming a customer or a distributor. I decide to take a leap of faith and sign up as a distributor and purchase my first bottle.
The product arrives about a week later. They say not to expect results for 1-3 months, but after the first application my desire for chocolate turns into a desire for vegetables (can’t make that up). Seven days pass. I literally feel like someone hit the reset button on my 67 yr. old physiology. My thinking is clearer; my food choices have realigned; and I’ve lost five pounds.
I sense there is some magic a brew.