Caregiver Check-In

As we stood at the threshold of radiation treatments, I knew that everything was about to change. Kevin was about to begin a new chapter in this cancer journey – one that would ask a lot from him physically, mentally, and emotionally. But it would also ask a lot from me. And so, this is my check-in, as the primary caregiver for him.

There’s a lot out there for patients, and rightfully so, but what about those of us who keep it all together and carry the invisible weight? We deserve a check-in, too. This one is for all the caregivers who are walking beside someone they love, while navigating their own inner turmoil.

The role I stepped into

As Kevin's "number one," I felt the weight of responsibility in every corner of our daily lives. Yes, there was a team of doctors, technicians, and medical staff, but I was the constant. ME. I was there first thing in the morning, shaping the tone of the day. I was there after every treatment, soothing and calming. I was there at bedtime, preparing the environment for his restful, regenerating sleep. If he woke in the night, I was there too.

I was also his full-time nutritionist, making sure every meal, supplement, and snack supported his healing process. Our cancer naturopath offered incredible guidance, but it was up to me to translate that into daily action.

So yes, I felt like my role was more vital than any other. That might sound bold, but it's the truth: I was the thread that connected every moment of care – and the one who made sure it was all stitched together with intention.

As the primary caregiver, you're allowed to feel empowered, but also exhausted. Who cares for the caregiver? That's where your "Tribe" of supporters come in.

So, what about me?

With all that said, you might be wondering: where did that leave me? What did I need, and how was I doing as the caregiver?

It’s an important question.

Interestingly, I entered this next phase with open arms: I felt ready, grounded, strong at first. I knew we had done our research and that Kevin had a solid care plan. We had the tools, the knowledge, and most importantly, each other. I felt "empowered" – that’s the best way to describe it, as strange as it may sound.

Were there fears? Of course. Fear creeps in when the future is uncertain, but I kept coming back to what our dear friend Lisbeth reminded us: "You must believe with every fibre in your being that he will get through it and be fine."

So I did... I held onto that belief like a lifeline.

At night, after Kevin had fallen asleep, I would often lie there in the dark, holding his hand or resting my palm on his arm. I listened to his breathing, and I felt his body warmth.

Sometimes, I cried silently; the kind of cry that doesn’t need sound – just a soft release of the weight I carried that day... but I didn’t let the sadness stay for long. I sent light and visualized healing energy moving from me to him... I constantly whispered affirmations in my mind:

"I feel this body and send light, to support and heal. I smile and send good energy. His body needs me right now and I am here to support it. His mind needs me to be positive, so that is what I shall do. There is a task at hand and there are things to be done. He made his choice to have radiation, so his body is telling him to do it and be okay, that this is what it will be able to handle. One day at a time... This is just today, tonight, so breathe... it will all be okay, one day at a time."

That became my ritual.

Research became my refuge

During the day, I poured my energy into learning. I researched ways to minimize the damaging effects of radiation, foods that calmed the body and supported digestion, supplements that helped absorb nutrients.

I explored different meditations, QiGong movements to support lymph flow and liver strength. I joined groups on social media, asked questions, connected with specialists from around the world – many of them retired medical professionals with decades of wisdom. IT WAS AMAZING - and this is what I mean by "empowering".

There’s an ocean of knowledge out there, much of it filtered, hidden or dismissed. I wanted to find every corner of it, and offer Kevin the very best.

This became my purpose, and my most important job ever.

But where was I in all of it?

What I didn’t do – and I can admit this now – was take much time for me.

People would ask how I was doing; they’d suggest that I find time to rest, to care for myself, to take breaks – and while I appreciated the concern, I often brushed it off.

Self-care felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford – not just financially (true), but energetically. We were already spending more than we had. The idea of spending money or time on myself felt wrong, even though I knew better!

I told myself there would be time for that later, that Kevin needed everything I had right now. I was willing to run on empty if it meant keeping him going.

In all honesty...

If you’re a caregiver reading this, I want to be honest: It’s not healthy to pour from an empty cup, I know that, I also knew that then, so I know what you're going through.

But I also know that sometimes love looks like sacrifice. Sometimes we give more than we should because our hearts won’t let us do anything less.

I don’t regret how I showed up for Kevin, not for a second! But I do wish I had paused once in a while to refill my own tank... Maybe a quiet shower, a walk in the woods, a phone call with a friend... A nap! Even small blinks can help re-anchor you.

We don’t have to be martyrs to be strong. And you’re not weak for needing rest.

If you're a caregiver... Please know this:

• You are doing something extraordinary. You are showing up in the most profound way.
  

• Your energy matters. Your rest matters. Your emotional health matters.
  

• Find your moments. Even if it’s just five minutes to breathe in the sunlight, sip tea, or stretch your body.
  

• Ask for help, even if it feels uncomfortable.
  

• Talk to someone. Whether it’s a friend, a group, or a professional, you deserve support too.
  

And most importantly, know that you are not alone.

Being Kevin’s caregiver was not something I planned, but it became one of the most meaningful roles I’ve ever stepped into. I did it with love, presence, and purpose. IT WAS INCREDIBLE! I felt guided, and I felt like every question I had was divinely answered.

And even though I forgot to care for myself sometimes, I never once forgot why I was doing it. That love and devotion, carried me through.

So to every caregiver out there: You are seen. You are appreciated. You are stronger than you know. And yes, you deserve your own check-in too.

Keep going, keep believing, and keep holding space for hope, one day at a time... We got this!