In healthcare we tend to mostly pay attention to the patient. Family, care providers, friends, pretty much everyone, focuses on the patient, and rightfully so. We check on the patient to see how they are doing. We ask if they need anything and what we can do to make things better. We discuss the patient experience and provide trainings on how to improve it. But at times, in our efforts to care for the patient, we overlook the caregiver. Yet, the caregiver plays one of the most crucial roles in patient care. 

To understand why the caregiver is so important, we have to truly grasp who the caregiver is, and what he truly does. According to Webster, a caregiver is a person who provides direct care. I guess Webster is correct, definitely simple and to the point. A caregiver is one who provides care, can’t argue with that; however, I believe a caregiver is so much more. I know mine is. 

The caregiver knows the patient the best. He knows whether the patient ran a non-stop fever for weeks. He knows that the patient passed out, hit her head when she fell and cleaned her up afterwards. He knows she got sick in the trashcan because he held her hair back from her face every time she did. The caregiver holds valuable information about the patient that fills in the gaps when the patient is unable to talk or forgets. He helps her get dressed and ties her shoes when she doesn’t have the strength. When she can’t walk to the car, he carries her. He calls the doctor’s office and fights with the receptionist to get a much, needed appointment. He does not back down to make sure his patient gets what she needs. He is the picture of calm, while his heart races in panic. He’s the protector of his patient’s dignity and keeps her safe. He manages the kids, work, friends and family all while keeping his patient his priority. He understands pain and anguish, as he experiences it every day watching his patient suffer. In the middle of the night, he hears his patient’s cries and holds her in silence. He understands the fear in his patient’s eyes and gives her a reassuring look, that only he can provide. He is comfort and love.

And that caregiver, well that caregiver knows how to wait. He waits for the doctor to call him back. He waits for test results to hear his patient’s fate. He waits, for what seems way too long, to see his patient once she returns to her room from going for a multitude of tests. Haunted by the ticking of the second hand of the clock, he waits, eyes glued to the vital signs monitor, hoping for an indicator of improvement. He goes without sleep, without food and without changing clothes because he is too afraid to leave his patient’s side, so he waits. He waits for seconds that turn into minutes that turn into hours that turn into days that turn into weeks, wondering if his patient, the love of his life is going to live or die.

And this caregiver, he does all of this and more with little or no recognition. He is selfless and humble. He understands long-suffering. He is an advocate. A protector. A knight in shining armor. Superman does not have anything on him. He demonstrates great strength and courage, when he is beyond exhausted and scared. He is gentle and kind. He never complains and ask for nothing in return. He feels it an honor to care for his patient because he cherishes her. He is truly an Unsung Hero. 

And Webster? Was he right?  I’d say not exactly, and I believe he would change his definition of the caregiver, if he just met mine. 

Written in honor and celebration of my Caregiver, my Unsung Hero, Jeff. Happy Birthday Baby!