I was talking to my husband last night and he reminded me of a story I had written about a woman I worked with when I was working as a trauma counselor. That story had ended up as an article in Caregiver Magazine. The woman in the story is someone I admire more than I could possibly express. He suggested that the woman’s story, as I had written it many years ago, would be a good thing to post on this blog. He was right, as he so often is, and here is the story.
I first met Helen shortly after she had been diagnosed with ALS, a progressively debilitating and usually fatal illness. As a long-time trauma counselor, I had frequently worked with people who had terminal illnesses but it was never easy. Helen surprised me though. Her biggest concern was not for her own all-too-brief future; it was for her husband, who was performing more and more care-giving tasks. Helen was afraid that her long-term illness would have a crushing effect on her husband’s health and spirits. Helen had nursed her first husband though his long and ultimately fatal illness so she knew exactly what her husband, Frank, would be up against in his attempts to care for her as the disease took its toll.