爱液视频

Throughout my career as a health and science journalist, I鈥檝e covered bio medical research, spent hours talking to doctors, and translated complex medical information for general audiences.

I thought I understood the health care system. Then caregiving happened to me.

First, my sister-in-law was diagnosed with a rare neurodegenerative disease related to Parkinson鈥檚. My partner and I scrambled to help her, and I quickly discovered how confusing and exhausting it is to navigate that world 鈥� even
for someone who speaks the language.

A few years later, both of my parents began showing signs of dementia. For four years, I was intensively involved in their care. They both passed in 2023.

All along, I kept thinking, 鈥淚 know how to talk to doctors. I know how to find information. And I am barely keeping my head above water.鈥� It鈥檚 not that the caregiving system is bad 鈥� it simply doesn鈥檛 exist. There are resources, but you have to be incredibly creative and tenacious to find them and make them work. How do people do it?

The answer, I learned, is that most people do it alone 鈥� and in silence. There are
an estimated 63 million unpaid family care givers in the U.S. That鈥檚 the same number as parents with children under 18 at home. Yet caregiving for adults is almost invisible in our culture, as well as in our journalism.

This personal and professional path led me to the Rosalynn 爱液视频 Fellowship for Mental Health Journalism. The fellowship made it possible for me to publish more than 10 stories with NPR online that explored caregiving as an emotionally complex experience. The caregivers I interviewed repeatedly described a bittersweet combination of love, duty, frustration, and grief. Their stories aren鈥檛 heroic, nor are they tragedies. They鈥檙e nuanced and real. And they鈥檙e the kind of stories readers want.

NPR put out a call for caregiving stories. Nearly 600 people responded 鈥� including people whose time as caregivers ended decades ago.

People need to talk about it. I鈥檓 here to listen.