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After my mom had an accident, I became her caregiver. I was just 13 years old.

Lisa McCarty   

After my mom had an accident, I became her caregiver. I was just 13 years old.
  • When my mom was 44 years old, she had an accident that left her unable to function properly.
  • It was just the two of us, and even though I was only 13 years old, I became her caregiver.

When I was 13, my mom suffered a terrible accident at work.

As a physical-education teacher at an elementary school, she was spotting a student doing a back walkover when their leg went sideways and kicked her in the neck. The doctors in the emergency room told her they thought she had a concussion and would likely improve. That didn't happen.

It was hard on her, a 44-year-old single, divorced working mom. She saved everything she earned, except the money we spent on basic necessities. We had no family nearby to help, so it was just us. Before the accident, I thought my mom was invincible. I was wrong.

She went from working full time to being unable to function, drive, or work. She relied on me for everything, suddenly unable to take me to my extracurriculars, such as gymnastics and lacrosse, help with my homework, or make meals. I became her caregiver.

It took awhile to find out what she had

While I was at school, she slept several hours a day. She had debilitating headaches, chronic dizziness, and sensitivity to light. She also couldn't balance without a cane. I felt helpless, though I performed basic tasks including moving her pillows, making microwave-friendly meals, supporting her up and down the stairs, and organizing her bills.

For two years, we didn't know what was wrong with her, despite seeing several neurologists.

Finally, an expert on head injuries diagnosed her with vestibular neuritis, an inner-ear disorder, and a brain injury as a result of the damage to her carotid artery during the accident. They recommended vision and physical therapy to improve her balance and functionality, but it would take more time.

She started to improve

When I was in high school, her condition slowly improved. She could stand up on her own, walk more easily with a cane, and do basic tasks. I was relieved. Yet I also became resentful. As a hormonal angst-filled teen, I argued with her regularly. We were both exhausted and burned out.

As I matured, we didn't argue as much. By the time I graduated from college, nearly 10 years after the accident, my mom had gained her independence. She didn't need as much help from me and her friends.

As she healed, I let go of my anger. It wasn't until I saw a therapist in my 20s that I understood how traumatized I was by her accident and how much I'd resented the reversal of our relationship. I felt guilty. Ultimately, I apologized for my behavior and told her I was sorry for the hurt I caused her.

As a mom of two kids, I now have a deeper understanding of the mother-child dynamic. I empathize with how my mom must have felt when she was trying to be there for me and take care of herself after her accident.

On a recent visit, she said to me, "Lisa, I'm so sorry that my accident impacted your life so much. I imagine it was hard on you, too."

Even over 30 years later, I somehow felt a sense of relief in knowing we were on the same page. Then she squeezed my hand and said, "I love you. You will always be my little girl."

My mom and I are now close friends. Therapy helped us to communicate better and set boundaries with one another. She lives across the country, and while she still struggles with her injury, she's fully independent, which makes me feel proud of how much she's overcome. We've both come a long way.



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