I write a lot about loss. In my case, those losses were in death, but there’s a variety of losses. A common one is ill health. I’ve been blessed with excellent health. If I’m in bed out of commission, it’s  because of an injury, or elective surgery.

I read an article written in support of those who are caregivers to those who are ill. Often the care givers are overlooked because of the concern for the ill person. When asked how so and so is, they aren’t asked how they are–they’re fine, after all. But really, they aren’t. They are side-lined just as much as the one who has the illness—chronic or otherwise. They aren’t free to go for a long walk, go to a concert, have dinner out, go for an extended trip, let alone a weekend get-away. They must excuse themselves from family get-togethers or programs or presentations their children or grandchildren are involved in.

Jim and I returned from a speaking trip in the Seattle area this past week. I had a bit of a cough and hoped and prayed it would not get worse because I needed my voice and energy to speak to three different women’s groups. To my relief, it stayed away while on the trip, but on our more-than-three-hour-drive south to our town, I began feeling sick, getting worse with every mile. We emptied the car, as is our usual routine when we’re gone for a few days, and when the last dirty sock was tossed into the clothes hamper, I crashed!

Barely able to whip up scrambled eggs and defrost some cornbread I had in the freezer, I donned my sick pajamas (they’re warm and toasty ones), and fell into bed. As the night hours passed by, I could hear the chimes of the clock reminding me I wasn’t asleep.  I moaned and groaned, couldn’t breathe; my mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert, my nose was so stuffed, I couldn’t take a sniff. I moaned my way through the night.

Next morning, Jim was kind to me and made toast and tea, my food of choice when I’m sick. My illness lasted all day and by bedtime, I still felt headachy, stuffed up and my body ached all over. As I dropped off to sleep, I hoped I’d feel better the next day. I woke up at midnight, got up and took a tylenol and went back to bed. Then at 5 am, same thing. As I shuffled to the bathroom, I noticed I felt better! Next time I woke up at 7, I felt normal. So glad to feel better.

I began to think about how quickly I got better and wonder what it’s like to wake up every morning, not feeling well enough to get out of bed—or get dressed—to enjoy a good cup of coffee and sometimes indulge in a warm, delectable pastry first thing in the morning. Perhaps it might feel like waking up to fog each and every morning. I wouldn’t like that. It would be hard to live with someone who feels that way too.

I’m grateful for my good health and just feeling good. This morning, after walking around, having my first cup of coffee and time in my Bible and talking to God in prayer, I knew I was better. And I’m grateful for feeling better. Being sick reminded me that not everyone enjoys good health like I do.

That holds true for that husband or wife who feels fine, but their mate does not. Most likely, they didn’t think anything about that “in sickness or in health” part of their vows when they were young and healthy. We often take good health for granted. I certainly do. What I hope after reading the article about the “health” of the caregivers is to remember them. How are they holding up during this time of illness? Do they need a break from caring for their ill partner? Do they need a listening ear?

It’s likely there’s someone in your sphere of influence who is living with someone who has a chronic illness, a debilitating disease, or is battling cancer. What can you do? Send a card–to them. Give them a call.  Bring them some flowers or a book–all the things you do for the sick person, you can do for the caregiver, too. There are people I know who are in that situation. I need to take stock of what I’m doing for those caregivers.  I am grateful for good health, a caring and loving husband, and others who care about me. I’m going to think about how I can pray or do something for that special caregiver. Please don’t misunderstand me. Being the ill person is no fun either—as I can attribute to for that short time I was sick–I haven’t forgotten how rotten I felt only 24 hours ago.Even so, the opportunity is there to encourage that caregiver. Won’t you join me in encouraging the caregiver? We all need it at some point in our lives. Maybe that person you know needs it today!

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