What Happened to the "Care" of Care-Giving?

This post will be more of a rant than a musing

Some background first. My father, a Parkinson's patient with dementia, requires 24/7 care. Early on in the course of the disease, between our health care system's hours for elder care in their own homes and my heroic mother, we were able to manage the requirements.

The past two years have evolved to the point where a live-in caregiver who works from Monday to Friday is an absolute must. Fortunately, the federal government, through the Live-In Caregiver Program, allows Canadians to sponsor caregivers from around the world, to help meet the growing needs for families wishing to keep their loved ones at home for as long as possible. Certain criteria must be met, but that has not been an issue in our case.

What has been is the quality of individuals who use this criteria to enter our country in terms of their true credentials; the ethics of the agencies that match caregivers looking for sponsors and families in need of caregivers; the certification process of caregivers now available in Ontario through questionable private academies; the caregivers sense of commitment and understanding of the importance of the role they wish to fulfill; and lastly the attitude and sense of entitlement that the newest crop of entrants bring to the interviews, having been coached by other caregivers living here in Canada, originally from their home towns, or their roommates.

My father's case requires some experience and knowledge of the nature of his disease, and patience. And more patience. In light of that, we offer a private bedroom, laundry facilities, home-cooked meals all made from scratch by my mother, opportunities to earn additional income if they wish to assist in other areas of the home, and open arms into our family's activities and events.

I say all this having gained a deep and intimate understanding of this entire process, as we have gone through over 14 caregivers in two years, over half of whom we thought we had hired, only to have no-shows on their start dates.

Several stayed between 1-4 days; one stayed up to the exact day she gained her OHIP card (health card that entitles them to free health care in Ontario, three months from arrival date into Ontario); two male caregivers stayed for the week it took for them to gain employment in a restaurant, their actual hoped-for role in Canada, even though they entered Canada under the guise of caregivers.

In the last three weeks alone, we have hired three caregivers, none of whom bothered to show up after having committed to the full-time role. In as much as it pains me to say this, the next statement is factual and you are free to draw your own conclusions: each of these 14 caregivers are originally from the Philippines, using different ports of entry to Canada, whether from Dubai, Saudi Arabia, Hong Kong, or elsewhere.

I wish I could say that this experience is unique to our family's, but it is not. We have spoken to many other families who have had similar experiences with similar frustrations.

Humour may be the only way to survive this, but when you are watching your mother deteriorate before your very eyes as she gamely tries to bridge the time gap towards the next caregiver, anger and frustration are emotions that more easily bubble to the surface. I, with my limited mobility, can offer absolutely no help, either.

But humour is the best remedy, and with that in mind, I will give you a glimpse into the series of questions exchanged between the last caregiver we thought we had hired, and my mother. Keep in mind that this is a 26 year old young woman, in Canada for all of one week, staying with her mother's two sisters in a community near by:

• "My aunt told me that I think you should pay for my transportation costs each month, like a $100 more". Yes, because any hard-working Canadian kid, fresh out of school, with no experience, expects their employer to cover their transit costs to and from their offices/place of employment. What??
• "I speak to my mother every night for an hour and a half. I need Internet service." A stranger in my parent's home, who wishes to be able to have access to their wireless network, in this day and age of hacking and identity theft. Check.
• "I need to get my OHIP card. So, I should be able to start on Wednesday." They were speaking on a Friday, and the next business day was Monday. What exactly was she going to do between 10:30 a.m. Monday (which is all the time she would need to fill out the papers, and present i.d, offices open at 9:00 a.m.) and Wednesday morning? Ride the bus? Maybe that's why she asked for the $100 monthly transit allowance.
• "Will I be alone here, or will you also be here?" Because my 73 year-old-mother needed to babysit her, while she was taking care of my father. Taking care of my father mostly involves watching tv with him or distracting him with puzzles, exercises or mind-usage games. So my mother had to act as a babysitter for a hired caregiver? Check again.
• "When I go to my room at night, will anyone come in?" I don't even know where to begin. She has a private room, living in a home with a 77 year-old man who cannot turn over without assistance, who cannot raise his arms above chest level at best, and a worn-out 73 year old woman who is hard of hearing and resembles a skeleton at the best of times.

Oh, yeah, Misty the cat. A cat that comes with personality plus, and a hard-won reputation as a no nonsense dudette, but please. She doesn't touch or like to be touched. By family, let alone a misguided 26 year-old wanna-be caregiver.

Check mate!