Caregivers Support Group: a helping hand along the path

NORTH TOWANDA - Eight people stand in a circle in a small library, holding hands.

They bow their heads and pray:

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."

They sit in chairs and begin talking.

This is the Caregivers Support Group. These people do special work: they take care of loved ones, mostly older, who have health problems.

It's hard work. It can be tiring. And it can be sad, if they must watch a spouse or a parent - someone who was always there, was always strong - slowly slip away in body or mind.

But they do it. And this group tries to help them just a little on that path.

"It's good to hear other people's ... situations," one member remarks after the meeting. "And it's good to have a sounding board."

The group aims to help members form bonds, explains leader Bob Bachisin. It also lets them know "that they're not alone" and tries to help them take care of themselves.

Attorney Leslie Wizelman of Wyalusing, who specializes in seniors' financial and legal matters, formed CSG in 2003. Bob works in her office. Sue Roy, with the Area Agency on Aging, helps him run meetings. The gatherings are confidential, the group's flier explains (We are not using guests' names in this story.)

The group meets at noon the second and fourth Tuesday of each month in the Personal Care Home of Memorial Hospital library. (Guests usually find someone to watch their loved one while they're attending.) Its next meeting is Feb. 28.

The library is small, cozy, comforting. Walls are a fresh, spring green and matching curtains hang at the windows, while baskets of flowers perch atop filled bookcases. Dolls in Victorian dresses gaze down from above.

A large, two-part Good News Bible rests on a windowsill. A Guideposts magazine is on display in one corner. The main story? "Why Family Comes First."

When guests visit CSG, they may get information from Bob and Sue, and they may learn about helpful services. But most of all, they simply talk.

This afternoon several women relax in a circle, in cushioned chairs. Bob and Sue sit in front, by the door. One by one, each guest gives an update on her situation, with others often sharing thoughts as she does.

A woman in a gray sweatshirt, at Bob's left, speaks first. Her husband isn't doing well.

Living in a care facility, he has dementia and other more recent health concerns.

"I kind of got the feeling this is the beginning of the end," she states.

(CSG is open to people with loved ones in personal care or nursing homes, besides those caring for them in private homes.)

The woman at her left understands. Her husband has Alzheimer's and actually visited the group in the past and talked about his illness. Now, though, he seems "kind of defeated," she says. He's only 61.

But the wife seems more upbeat, Bob says. Before, she seemed lost. "Now you're coming out of the woods," he says.

Maybe she's learned. Maybe she's stronger. Whatever it is, she can face the future.

"It is what it is," she says. "It is what it is and we're going to get through it."

On around the circle.

The woman in the flower-print chair is going on vacation! But she feels nervous, and guilty, because she'll be spending time away from her 87-year-old mother with Alzheimer's.

"I'm looking forward to getting some sleep," she admits. She's having trouble with a heel, and adds: "I'm looking forward to going to the doctor!"

A woman in a purple jacket starts speaking. But it's hard - she begins to tear up.

Her mother's also 87 and an Alzheimer's patient. She still remembers people, but the "short-term memory is gone," the daughter explains. She remodeled her home last summer so her mom could get around it easier, but the older woman insists, "I need to go home ... I don't know why I'm here!" And she's made her declaration: "I am not going to a nursing home!"

TV confuses her (although they do watch "The Waltons."). She can't read anymore. It's hard for the daughter to even leave the room.

"We're managing," she says. "That's what we tell people. We're managing."

But it's getting harder.

CSG guests might be in their 50s or 60s, or 70s or 80s. Or ... even their 20s. Most do not work outside the home - the guest in the purple jacket is retired; the wife in the gray vest is disabled. In the past, though, one woman from a bank attended meetings on her lunch hour.

"I really miss working. ... I can't work now. I wish I could," confesses the woman in the flower chair.

Though meetings are confidential, Bob and Wizelman may later discuss a member's situation if he or she is already a client. "I do not promote Leslie," he states.

Sue may tell CSG members about ways AAA can help, since it is a service agency. But she does not pass on members' information without their permission.

The guest in the blue turtleneck today lost her mother last spring and finally, at the end of the year, she settled the last of her affairs. Then, two weeks ago, her dad died. Now she'll start over.

She'd been taking care of him - now "I just find myself just sleeping."

"The exhaustion is just so complete," Sue agrees. She encourages her to just rest now, and take care of other things later.

The daughter can't totally rest, though: She's still helping an aunt and watching a 2-year- old grandson.

The guest in the flower-print blouse also lost her dad recently. She's still caring for her mom, a Parkinson's patient.

One thing about being the caregiver in the family, she tells the woman in the turtleneck, is "you get to call the shots!"

They talk about grieving. And Bob tells about his own mother's passing.

They're around to the last guest in the circle. The woman, in a white sweater, is new to the group.

She starts to cry. She can't talk yet.

It's OK. "They don't have to talk if they don't want to," Sue explains later. The point is to support one another, and take care of themselves. "If you fall apart, you're not going to be a very good caregiver," she notes. Often, though, members "tend to come here when they're on their last nerve." Then they're sorry they waited so long.

It's almost 1 p.m. So they stand and join hands.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."