Are you ready to scream. cry, laugh hysterically, pound nails into a board and check into a hotel for a few days? Possibly all at the same time? You may be care partner for an anxious elderly person. Anxiety is an umbrella term for many clinical disorders, and I am not qualified to expound on them.

Anxiety is nothing to laugh at. Anxiety–real anxiety in the form of an anxiety disorder–can be something to cry over, stomp your feet in frustration about, tear at your hair when it is happening and leave you wanting to bang your forehead against a wall. Let me be specific. I am talking about an anxiety

I lie.Every day.It’s shocking, really. Here’s an example of one of my lies from today: Dr. M.: Have you seen my wife?Me: I saw her at lunch. (That was true.)Dr. M.: Do you know where she is now? I can’t find her.Me: She’s running some errands (not true), but she will be back at dinner.(true.)Dr.

Sarah was frustrated. She had placed her mom in a care home a year ago, and one of the reasons was…well…the care. Sarah had a full time job, and couldn’t be with her all the time, and she found she worried about her all day long. The transition hadn’t been smooth, but now she was

I sometimes picture the care partner as a warrior, travelling a journey with their loved one. Today, it’s stress that beats them down and almost defeats them. Tomorrow it might be exhaustion or frustration or financial worries. Difficult decisions and the accompanying indecision can fling them to their knees. A sudden medical emergency can leave

Daisy shuffled into the dining room for lunch, as she had so many times before. She knew her way , and she knew they would feed her when she sat down in her chair by the window. Daisy could have sat anywhere, but her tottering steps always took her to her favourite chair. Like magic,

It had been a rough week. The dog was sick, and although he seemed to be improving, he was lethargic and subdued, and that was scaring me. My husband was in Argentina, and not due home for another week. I was making decisions about the dog’s care and the mounting costs through texts with him.

The plaque fell off the door. In the midst of crisis, sometimes the most insignificant occurrence will jump to your consciousness and flash the words, “Warning, warning.” The day I came home and found the plaque on the ground was one of those times. My heart froze and a tiny voice in the back of

Today I went for an ultrasound and x-rays of my left knee, which has been giving me grief since last August. I have a “knee/ligament/leg/who knows what” issue, and the doctor decided to find out why my hobble hasn’t gone away. He threw in pictures of my right knee and my back for good measure.

Meet Janice. She has a family; two teenagers and a twelve-year old, a husband who travels, so is not home for the day-to-day running of the house, and a mother who helps out with the kids. Mom is a young eighty who walks every day, reads the paper, is conversant in politics and plays a