Caring for Others

We often think of support as something that happens in one direction, with the strong helping someone who is struggling. For someone who’s always seen themselves as the strong one, accepting support can be a challenge. Yet when two people in need help each other, both may experience a much-needed boost.

I witnessed this dynamic firsthand during my dad’s battle with lung cancer more than 10 years ago. Since my mom’s move to a nursing home the prior year due to a stroke, my dad had been living alone in our sizeable home in Lexington, Kentucky. My four siblings and I were scattered around the country, so visits were infrequent, and my dad’s declining health worried us.

Dad was receiving regular chemotherapy treatments, and while he didn’t complain, we knew he was exhausted and not eating well. My siblings and I offered to hire a housekeeper and a visiting nurse but dad refused, not wanting strangers around and no money spent on something he deemed unnecessary.

Then my sister Liz told us about her long-time friend Carin, who had devoted her career to nursing but her own cancer treatments were preventing her from working full time. Carin was working when she could as a home health aide, doing her best to care for her young son while covering the cost of treatments that kept her cancer in check.

So, we approached my dad with a proposition: if he would hire Carin to visit once or twice a week, he’d be doing something to assist her, and her son. My dad’s supportive nature kicked in, and the opportunity to help someone else, despite his struggles, gave him a renewed sense of purpose.

And he liked Carin. Not only was she making a difference in the lives of the patients in her work, but Carin also managed to run a nonprofit she founded, Carin for Nurses. When Carin received her own cancer diagnosis in 2005, her fellow nurses pitched in to help cover her cost of care since she went months without an income. In the nearly two decades since, this organization has continued its mission: “To help nurses across Kentucky in their time of need.”

Carin and my dad formed a mutual understanding and respect for one another. She understood the exhaustion that came with chemotherapy treatments, and as a parent, my dad could relate to her commitment to do whatever it took to give her son a good life. On paper, they were both “patients,” who were more comfortable in the care-giver role. They both had to navigate pain and the uncertainty of their respective illnesses, but what defined their relationship was mutual support and acceptance. They couldn’t fix their situations or their own, but I believe their time spent together made them feel less alone.

Their connection was brief, but meaningful. In early January of 2016, my dad went to California to continue his treatments with the care and oversight of three of my siblings. He passed away that February with his five children by his side, and Carin lost her own battle with cancer later that year. A decade later, they remain in our thoughts and hearts. They showed us that despite life’s circumstances, we’re always capable of mutual support. A lesson that keeps me grounded and hopeful.

Always remember that I didn’t give up, I fought the fight till it was my time.

Carin Brown Addams, RN BSN