The other day I read this fantastic article about nurturing nose and face wiping. Oooh, it really got me thinking. If you ever in the run of your day find yourself wiping someone else's nose, you should read this article. If you don't, you could read it anyway - it's never a bad thing to broaden our awareness of different life experiences, and you never know when you might find yourself in a situation where the insight and understanding you gain could be useful. An aging parent or friend, a grandchild, niece or nephew, or even your own child, spouse, brother or sister can find themselves in need of physical care at any time, long term or temporarily.
The article is full of quick, easy practical bullet points to consider, yet it relays the true essence of care with brief explanations of why each aspect is important.
It is all about increasing the wellbeing of the person being cared for by supporting their understanding and anticipation of what is happening, valuing their personal preferences (eg. amount of pressure, type of movement, smells or lack of them) and autonomy, promoting their dignity, privacy, comfort and physical wellbeing.
I keep wanting to copy and paste bits but then it's all so good I wouldn't want to miss any out! So just go and read it!
But it also got me reflecting more widely on care. Everybody will at some point in their life find themselves in a position of caring, whether this be in employment or personal life. We generally find ourselves there because we do care for that person. Because we want to make a difference and support somebody's wellbeing in whatever ways we can.
We are also almost certain to require care at some point. We all required it as babies and children and to lesser or greater extents will be cared for throughout our lives by those closest to us or by professionals.
Can you think of any moments when someone's care has really made a difference? It's easy to pay attention to times when we have been failed or let down, but what was it in the times when you felt cared for that made the difference?
One moment I will forever remember is when I opened my eyes a slit as a particularly bad panic attack was beginning to ease, to see the support worker catching my streaming snot and saliva with a big wad of tissue. That image sticks with me. No disgust, no revulsion, no big deal, no expecting to be thanked or that I was even aware of that particular action. Just two people being with me, facilitating me to recover in the best way for me: waiting until I was ready, using minimal language, taking care of my physical needs when I couldn't and wasn't aware of them, maintaining my dignity as far as possible.
I'd love to hear of any moments of care that have stuck with you, big or tiny.
