Richard Rayner, MD
In the medical and emotional hurricane of COVID-19, certain clinical terms have become commonplace. “Asymptomatic,” “vector,” “mRNA,” terms previously used only by those in the medical and science fields are now part of the conversational lexicon of the English language. We’ve seen new terms develop also including the ill-defined “long-haulers.” This unfortunate group includes those who have experienced a symptomatic COVID-19 infection and continue to have similar or unusual symptoms that vary from nagging to debilitating.
Life becomes a daily assessment of well-being, followed by a series of decisions whether or not to push through the persistent issues or just have to give in to another day of fatigue, brain fog, etc. Indeed, this can be a tough, burdensome situation. But I’d like to use this time to give a shout out to another type of long-haulers, the long neglected, unsung heroes among us who labor, day after day, without recognition or appreciation. These sufferers, in fact, may experience physical fatigue, yet often live lives of isolation and even disdain.
I’m speaking of the family members who labor tirelessly to care for the chronically ill, disabled, or elderly who are their kin. Perhaps we should coin a phrase, the “long-servers.” These long-haulers have existed for millennia. These sweet servants press on day after day to deliver the care that their loved ones need. Countless hours are spent bathing, entertaining, feeding, washing and re-washing clothes and wheelchairs stained by food sent flying by uncoordinated limbs or minds that cannot control or rationalize behavior. Even while battling their own fears and exhaustion, they return again and again to the side of the ones who would be lost, even perish, were it not for their persistent kindness.
Caregivers like these have to face their disappointments silently. With opportunities for advancement missed and fun times never to be experienced by themselves, they quietly watch while so many others enjoy lives without the burdens they shoulder. They often take their place on the shore of the ocean of opportunity and pleasure, waving to those able to enjoy the waves of unencumbered lives. Some will acquiesce to getting help from others. Often it’s a necessary and very practical help, the kind that brings a respite and will get the job done. But they also know the difference between performing a task, and lovingly attending to a need. Anyone – well, anyone who dares – can wipe poop off of someone’s bottom, but only a long-hauler can do it with love, executed with gentleness and patience born from a desire that comes from a deep place. It’s a sacrificial kind of love – the sweetest kind there is.
I think of the elderly couple who have committed to providing an excellent environment for Tom, their now adult son, who has never spoken a clear word and retains incredible strength even though exercise is not a part of his life. Tom has known only sweetness in his simple life. My thoughts then stray to the woman in her 90’s widowed too soon with no children of her own to care for, but has a niece who, despite her own significant health challenges, lovingly takes her aunt to every appointment, brings her food, and checks in with her every day.
There’s the dad of the Down’s Syndrome son who couldn’t wait for retirement so that he could spend more time with his son doing things they love, together. And the African American matriarch who came from nothing yet raised five kids to be educated. Who in her 99 years has seen more suffering from without and within than could ever be chronicled, now carefully cared for by her daughters who are themselves not young, but remain staunchly committed to caring for the woman who gave them so much. It’s exhausting, and there is ne’er a complaint that reaches Mom’s ears.
I’m left nearly speechless at times when I’m interacting with these folks. Having had a pretty easy life in comparison, I wonder what I would do in the same position. Would I become bitter? Would I resent the good things others experience while I locked into the caretaker role?
These saints stand out to me even more as I observe how we are becoming increasingly enamored with and lured into the comfort of instantaneous living. When we discover an item is not available on Amazon Prime we are incredulous! This meal will take an hour to prepare?! Are you kidding?! For long-servers there is nothing instantaneous or quickly done, just long days, longer nights, and rarely weekends off. Even if they get relief for a time, their minds cannot shut of what occupies them 24/7 most of the year.
And what about the long-servers themselves? Who will care for them when they need it? And when they no longer provide the assistance to their needy loved ones, who will take up that burden? This too plagues their minds.
Take a moment today to consider any long-server you may know. Can you reach out to them and offer even a morsel of support? Run an errand, sit with their love-one so they can have a few moments to take care of things they need to do outside the home, or (gasp!) even enjoy themselves somehow. Or perhaps just sit with them in a quiet moment and share their burden. Sometimes the strongest muscle is a listening ear. Why not grab a mutual friend and make a plan together? Many hands make light work. And who among us doesn’t long for a lighter burden from time to time?
