They say that bad things happen in threes, from my experience, they are wrong. Bad things CLUSTER. Sometimes it’s three, but in my case (so far) it’s been a lot more – one after another. I’m almost afraid to say it, in case something ELSE happens (there’s always a “next” lately). It all started when my husband was recently hospitalized. It was unexpected (isn’t it always) and he was rushed to the hospital for a 9 day “visit” and follow up full time care (that we’re still dealing with – a month later). Superwoman that I am, I went into full caregiver mode, running back and forth, sitting by his side for hours, making sure the doctors and nurses had what they needed, and trying to keep everything in order. I felt like I couldn’t do enough. My heart was with him every second, worrying, waiting, and hoping he’d pull through. It was one of the scariest times of my life, watching him struggle with respiratory and heart failure and not knowing what would happen next.
In moments like these, it’s so easy to put yourself on the back burner. I think we all do it instinctively when someone we love is in trouble. I told myself, “I’ll rest later.” But what happened? Later never came. I didn’t listen to my own advice, and that was a big mistake.
You know that advice I always give, about how self-care is crucial, especially in tough times? Well, I completely ignored it. The advice I’d give to anyone else—to take time for themselves, even when caring for someone else—seemed like something I couldn’t apply to my own life. I became so focused on making sure my husband was comfortable and taken care of that I forgot to take care of myself. I did some work (I would sit on the floor of the bathroom in his hospital room to do voiceovers for an Instagram that I was working on), stop at fast food restaurants for dinner (I was too tired to shop, cook or even sit for a full meal), etc. Mornings, I made his coffee and breakfast to bring to the hospital so he wouldn’t have to endure the awful food they served, yet other than a coffee for myself, I wasn’t doing as much for me.
Looking back, I can hear my own words echoing: “You can’t pour from an empty cup.” I’ve told friends and loved ones that when they’ve gone through their own rough patches. I’ve written about it countless times on my blog. Self-care isn’t selfish. It’s necessary. You’re no good to anyone if you’re running on fumes, and yet, there I was, ignoring that very principle.
I kept going, running myself ragged, convincing myself that I could do it all. But reality caught up with me. While my husband started getting better, I was falling apart. By the time we got him home from the hospital, I had bronchitis. It hit me like a freight train. And, of course, bronchitis doesn’t just disappear after a couple of days. It lingers. It’s STILL lingering after a full course of medication and inhalers. I still feel like I’m recovering, long after my husband has gotten back on his feet.
This whole experience has been a wake-up call. I always thought I was so good at taking care of myself. I’m 70 and proud of how I stay on top of my health, whether it’s getting my flu shot, RSV, or pneumococcal pneumonia vaccine, eating well, or just taking time for myself. But this was different. I didn’t know how to balance being a caregiver and taking care of me. My instincts were to sacrifice my own needs in favor of his, and while that might sound noble, it wasn’t smart.
If you’ve ever been in a similar situation, you know how easy it is to let things slide. You think, “Just one more day, and then I’ll take a break.” The problem is, when you’re under that much stress, your body eventually rebels. And mine certainly did. I was exhausted, emotionally drained, and physically rundown. That’s when illness sneaks in.
I’ve learned a hard lesson. Caregiving for a loved one doesn’t mean you have to neglect yourself. If anything, that’s the time when self-care is most essential. I’m not saying it’s easy to carve out time for yourself when you’re in the middle of a crisis, but it’s necessary. You have to be intentional about it.
Looking back, I realize there were small things I could have done that would’ve made a huge difference:
- Take breaks – Even if it’s just stepping outside the hospital for five minutes to breathe fresh air. Just a moment to decompress can work wonders.
- Accept help – This was a big one for me. I always feel like I need to do it all. But guess what? People are willing to help. Whether it’s friends, family, or hospital staff, leaning on others for support doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re smart.
- Eat and hydrate – I was guilty of skipping meals or eating junk just to get something in my stomach quickly. I didn’t drink enough water. When your body is under stress, you need proper fuel to keep going.
- Sleep – I hardly slept the entire time he was in the hospital, either from worry or just sheer exhaustion catching up with me. But lack of sleep wears you down, and once you’re worn down, you’re more susceptible to illness.
- Do something for yourself – Whether it’s reading a chapter of a book, taking a quick walk, or even sitting quietly for a few moments. That little act of self-care can ground you and give you the energy to keep going.
I wish I could go back and give myself a little shake, remind myself that taking care of me wasn’t a luxury but a necessity. Because now, as I recover from bronchitis, I’m reminded that neglecting my own health only prolonged the recovery process for both of us.
So, here’s my message to anyone going through something similar: Don’t do what I did. Don’t ignore your own needs. I know how hard it is to focus on yourself when a loved one needs you, but you owe it to them and to yourself to stay healthy. Burnout doesn’t help anyone.
The truth is, taking care of yourself isn’t just about you. It’s about being there for the people you love in the best possible way. I’ll be the first to admit that I failed at this, but I’ve learned my lesson. Next time, I’ll be better. Hopefully, this experience will serve as a reminder to all of us—especially those of us who are caregivers, who naturally put others before ourselves—that we need to listen to our own advice sometimes.
Here’s to learning, growing, and remembering that we deserve care, too and PLEASE take care of yourself.
