{"id":4022,"date":"2019-11-14T20:27:15","date_gmt":"2019-11-15T01:27:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/?p=4022"},"modified":"2021-01-08T15:09:55","modified_gmt":"2021-01-08T20:09:55","slug":"my-resume-never-mentions-i-was-daddys-caregiver","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/2019\/11\/14\/my-resume-never-mentions-i-was-daddys-caregiver\/","title":{"rendered":"My Resume Never Mentions I Was Daddy’s Caregiver"},"content":{"rendered":"
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by Caroline Cao<\/strong><\/p>\n

Winning submission to AAJA\u2019s Caregiving Contest 2019<\/a>, with the generous support of AARP<\/p>\n

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\u201cI want you to put caregiving on your resume,\u201d my Daddy muttered from the deathbed. He must have seen my perplexed reaction because he added, \u201cCaroline, you get a better chance at a job if you told people you took care of me.\u201d<\/p>\n

My father\u2019s liver cancer forced my 14-year-old self into the role of caregiver. It disrupted my part-time job search during high school. By the time the tumor was discovered, the cancer nibbled away at Daddy\u2019s hipbone before he could receive effective radiation treatment. Daddy went from walking straight, to leaning on a cane, to leaning on a walker that scraped against our tiled floor, before becoming confined to the cot. I was determined to make him better. I dared to imagine that could I cure him by just making him comfortable.<\/p>\n

Cooking was the most effective way to make him feel better. I baked dark chocolate pies, boiled pasta, and heated up ravioli for him. I was proud when he ate my dark chocolate pies. In that way, I made his last days sweeter.<\/p>\n

But there were matters that frustrated me. Once I came home from school and he laid there stiff and numb and crying for help. He confessed he swallowed too much pain-killers. I scrambled to make him feel better, to bring him water, to talk to him, and to keep him company. I did not voice my anger. Why didn\u2019t he follow the dosage instructions? I was mad at myself for feeling mad. He was suffering and I could not make him better.<\/p>\n

What I was not prepared for were the words, words of love, words of remorse, words of confusion. As I brought him the food he wanted, I would hear things from his mouth. Among them were, \u201cI love you. I was dreaming about when you were born.\u201d Then there was \u201cIf you trust me, you have to become a lawyer,\u201d which flummoxed me. There was also, \u201cI dreamed of demons laughing at me.\u201d He feared he was going to Hell. Sometimes he told me, \u201cI wasn\u2019t a good father, I wasn\u2019t a good father, I\u2019m sorry.\u201d He was losing faith in his survival. That made me feel useless that my caregiving was never enough.<\/p>\n

Yet, my father insisted I list \u201ccaregiving\u201d on my resume: \u201cCaroline, you must put that you have to tell people you took care of me.\u201d He knew I was at the age where college applications and career prospects were urgent. He wanted my caregiving position to secure me in the future.<\/p>\n

How do I put on my resume that I witnessed how deep the pain and shame wore and tore at his soul? Insurance paid over $2 million for the medical bills. He apologized that I had to see him like that, apologized for being my burden. He never wanted to be a victim of anything. He survived the communists of the Vietnam War, he survived the racists in his childhood when he moved to America. He believed in hard work, pushed me to become valedictorian (I never became one). He was miserable he never matched up to the glorified image of the \u201cfighter,\u201d the one who could beat the disease. But the truth is, many patients never overcome and have no control. He didn\u2019t have control. I had little control. My task was to make his circumstances less discomforting, whether it was boiling him pasta or bringing him water.<\/p>\n

By the end days, he did have a nurse, which freed me from the labor. The nurse grimaced as she watched me and my brother hold my father\u2019s hand, when his coherent words faded into agonized groans. I remember the nurse\u2019s pouty expression as she watched. I realized, even a professional has it hard.<\/p>\n

Vu Cao, age 44, passed away surrounded by his sisters and holding my hand. My last act of caregiving was reading him a book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows<\/em>, since he never finished the Harry Potter series.<\/p>\n

Despite his insistence, I never put \u201ccaregiving\u201d on my resume. I didn\u2019t feel worthy of it. I never felt the need to bring it up caregiving at a job interview, save for the one time I applied to be a medical scribe, not out of interest in the medical field but out of need for money. I said to the interviewer, \u201cIt should be known I was a caregiver for my father when he was dying of liver cancer.\u201d I was terminated within five days of floor training as a scribe. The chief scribe told me, \u201cYou regressed on your fifth day. We must part ways.\u201d I could see my father\u2019s disappointment.<\/p>\n

I could have done more. <\/em>That\u2019s the painful echo. I can hear his walker screeching across the floor, flinching up at every imagined squeak. Could I have done more as Daddy\u2019s caregiver?<\/p>\n

Sometimes my best isn\u2019t even enough. No matter if you know you did your best, you\u2019ll still feel disappointed. What did caregiving teach me? Did it prepare me for hardships in life? Would I end up caregiving for my mother if she were to grow infirm? I think about how I read to him, how I baked pies for him. I can conclude: Caregiving for my father made his end less painful, even if I\u2019m left with memories that eat me away.<\/p>\n

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About the contest<\/p>\n

Each year 40 million<\/a> family caregivers in the U.S. provide critical support to adults with a chronic, disabling, or otherwise serious health condition. AARP and the Asian American Journalists Association (AAJA) partnered to bring to light personal journeys of AAJA members or accounts of other Asian American and Pacific Islanders who have been impacted by caregiving for a loved one. Find out more about the AAJA Caregiving Contest and see last year’s winners here<\/a>. Thank you, AARP!<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Caroline Cao has taken care of her ill father since she was fourteen. In her winning entry for AAJA Caregiving Contest, Cao shares her experience as a caregiver.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4024,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"give_campaign_id":0,"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"bgseo_title":"","bgseo_description":"","bgseo_robots_index":"index","bgseo_robots_follow":"follow","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[42],"tags":[96],"class_list":["post-4022","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news","tag-caregiving-contest"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/MY-RESUME-NEVER-MENTIONS-I-WAS-DADDYS-CAREGIVER-graphic-file.jpeg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4022","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4022"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4022\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8701,"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4022\/revisions\/8701"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4024"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4022"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4022"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ncorv.com\/aaja_wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4022"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}