I use the term “caregiver” quite frequently in my writing and speaking. It seems to be the go-to word for anyone that is responsible for the health and well-being of another. It applies to those providing care to infants, children, adults with special needs, or anyone requiring help in navigating activities of daily living. We were all recipients of care as children and it’s very likely we will need some level of care at other points in our lives.
I’ve also come across the word “carer.” I don’t see or hear this word used often. Even my spellcheck wanted to autocorrect it to “career.” A quick search revealed that “carer” is used most often in Britain and Australia. “Caregiver” is used more often in the USA and Canada.
I’ve heard some people use the word “caretaker,” as in “She is her husband’s caretaker.” And “taking care of” someone is a common phrase. However, “caretaker” and “caregiver” bring up different images to me. “Caretaker” sounds more like someone that takes care of inanimate objects, such as a garden or an estate. It makes me uneasy to apply that term to a person that is responsible for another. Maybe it’s the taking vs giving part of the word that sits uncomfortably with me. I’d rather someone give care than take it.
I’m not sure when “care partner” first came into use, but there seems to be a trend toward the use of this term.
A care partnership implies that each of the members is responsible for the other’s health and well-being. A committed, loving relationship would hopefully hold this aspect of a relationship in high regard. “How are you doing today?” “What do you need for me to do for you?” “How can I help you?” These are all questions each person in a care partnership would ask of each other. Even if one partner has a chronic illness, they could both be looking after and asking after the well-being of the other.
However, in the case of dementias, the level of awareness of the loved one affected by the dementia limits the ability to be in full partnership. Harvey was unable to verbalize his concern for my well-being or to ask how I was coping with all the changes that were happening to him and to our family. Maybe he thought about it, but he rarely expressed it. I’m sure other couples navigate this part of the disease differently. In my experience, I just never felt like a care partner by this definition.
But neither did I feel like a caregiver early in the process of Harvey’s disease as he was still so capable of so much. He didn’t need to be taken care of. I felt more like an overseer, keeping a watchful eye on things. (That sounds like a caretaker!) Of course, as the disease progressed, I did become more and more his caregiver, taking on more responsibilities for his well-being.
Perhaps another way to look at the term “care partner” is to think of it as working together. One of the chapters in my memoir is titled “Let’s Do It Together.” In it, I describe our daughter’s wedding and how we included Harvey. The broader implication in that title is important though. It’s a reminder that the loved one is still capable of doing many things. As the caregiver, it would probably go smoother and faster if you performed all the tasks that need to be done. But where does that leave the loved one? Watching TV while you do the household chores?
I’ve shared it before, but my essay here , describes how I came to embrace this caregiving principle, especially in terms of chores around the house.
Another aspect of care partnering might include tasks that the loved one does for himself or herself. I’m thinking here of self-care items such as brushing teeth, bathing, or eating. It might be easier for the caregiver to do these tasks directly for the loved one if there is no resistance on their part. How much better, though, to guide and help the loved one to accomplish these items so that they still have a feeling of agency over their own bodies.
Caregiver, carer, caretaker, or care partner. No matter what you call yourself, your loved one is dependent on your loving, respectful care.