Burnout

Imagine a world where employees are valued for spending a weekday afternoon every week to take care of another person: a child or an elderly person.

In this world, science has proved that employees that make such a commitment and take on such responsibilities are better leaders and contribute to corporate performance more than those that do not. Additionally, being supported in family responsibilities reduces stress, leading to lower blood pressure and less heart problems, extending life spans.

People interested in advancing their careers make a point of everyone knowing who they are taking care of: their niece or nephew, their grandchild, their neighbour’s kids, their own kids, their ailing aunt, or their frail parents. In this world, you do not choose between your family and your career, as to advance in your career you must demonstrate your family values by taking an active nurturing role.

“What do you mean, you’re paying someone to be a caregiver?”

She'd come here hopeful, but abruptly, Daphne felt like crying as the cafe fell silent, as if someone had pressed the mute button on a remote control. Even the fussing children had stopped crying at Priscilla’s outburst, and Daphne fancied that their wide young eyes were judging her just as harshly as their parents were. She really should have just kept her mouth shut.

There were advantages to living in a society where caregiving was considered a social responsibility on par with paying taxes, and abdicating that responsibility as worse than tax evasion. Daphne had heard the horror stories from her grandmother’s time: women who had to come home from a full-time job, only to work another because her husband saw domestic duty as beneath him. Parents abandoned to die in isolation by children who were ‘too busy’ to visit or care for them.

Daphne and Priscilla had been young children during the Great Social Transformation, sparked by scientific breakthroughs that had changed the world. The first discovery, something to do with cellular therapy that still went over Daphne’s head, eliminated most forms of Disease and Physical disability that contributed to premature deaths. It was quickly followed by advancements in cloning technology that saw organ replacement go for a precarious operation with a long wait list, to something as routine as visiting a dentist.

(Finding a permanent cure for Mental Degeneration, and other Brain-related Disorders was still a Work In Progress… There were treatments, if you caught it early, if it didn't require entirely re-wiring the patient's brain, if, if, if.)

With people suddenly living very extended lifespans, the Great Social Transformation was triggered. It began as a movement that declared that society as a whole had a duty to care for it’s most vulnerable, not merely it’s most productive. Greater emphasis was placed on spending time with family, not just going to work and coming home to sleep. How could one boast of competency or moral character to impress one’s superiors, while ignoring one’s family, after all?

Before her decline, Daphne’s Mum had spoken of two-income households barely able to make ends meet while working multiple jobs each, because someone had to be paid to look after children, to cook and clean, when the parents couldn’t.

But there were negatives, too. Anyone who struggled to meet their commitments was considered to have some kind of moral defect, which made asking for help all the harder. Not everyone was blessed to be part of a large family. Young children or infirm parents were both a full-time occupation, but those unfortunates who had both at once… Daphne had felt a vague sense of righteous pity towards such people, until she became one of them.

One of the waitstaff, who had been whispering in a huddle with their fellows, bustled over. “I’m sorry, but we have a reservation that will be arriving soon. Would you like the rest of your order to go?”

Sure they had a reservation. Daphne glanced pointedly at the large sign that said “NO RESERVATIONS”, but didn’t bother to argue. She’d be persona non grata as soon as the Social Committee found out, might as well get used to it now.

Priscilla scowled as the door shut behind them. By all rights, it should have closed with a resounding ‘bang’, but electronic sliding doors tended to lack that capability. A small mercy, but Daphne would take it.

Her cousin was nowhere near as magnanimous. “I can’t believe you got us kicked out. I’ll never be able to go back to my favourite cafe because of you.”

Right, let the scapegoating begin. Daphne refused to take the blame alone. “You’re they one who decided to shout it all over the building without even letting me explain.”

Priscilla threw up her hands, “Explain what? You’re hiring a caregiver!”

How did Priscilla make ‘A difficult but necessary choice for everyone’s wellbeing’ sound so much like Daphne had actively chosen to become a serial killer who kicked baby seals and puppies in her spare time? “Yes, because I have to!”

“No you don’t! You can just step up and be a responsible citizen! We manage!”

That was easy for some people to say! Priscilla had three siblings, all of them married. It was easy for them to divide up chores and some social time around work and parenting between the four of them, especially when they had spouses to look after the kids. Aunt Flora and Uncle Henry had the foresight to develop their large family home into townhouses before the grandchildren had come along, so for them it was a simple matter of walking a few doors down to cook, clean and keep company.

Daphne’s husband and father had both died last year, victim of a terrorist stabbing spree. Daphne was an only child, suddenly left to juggle everything herself. Her mother had never recovered from the grief, even if the doctors called it early onset Dementia. Rose, her young daughter, wasn’t handling it well, either. One moment she’d be fine, the next she’d be on the floor, bawling about wanting her daddy.

It was one such incident that finally made Daphne give in. Rose had been screaming the roof down, and Daphne, struggling to manage her own emotions, had walked into another room to try and calm down before she started screaming herself. Something had triggered one of Mom’s episodes, and she hadn’t recognised her own grand-daughter.

Daphne had rushed back when Rose’s screaming took on a very different tone, just in time to pull her mother away from attacking the child she saw as a malicious intruder.

It wasn’t that Daphne wanted to pass her mother’s care onto somebody else! But the doctors had been honest about the prognosis: Mom would need someone with her around the clock, and if she didn’t need specialist care now, by people trained to spot triggers before they became episodes and de-escalate them, it was only a matter of time, and not very much of it.

Rose needed to increase her therapy sessions, too, and the therapist was on the other side of the city. Rose was too young to travel there on her own, but getting Mom to sit in a waiting room alone for an hour was a recipe for disaster, too. What if she simply left when Daphne and Rose were with the therapist? What if she had an episode and got into an altercation? What if she didn’t recognise Daphne and accused her of kidnapping in a building full of Mandatory Reporters?

There might be stigma against Caregivers, but the profession existed for a reason, and it was time for Daphne to make use of them.

Daphne was a Single Parent, and an Only Child, and a Manager whose team was in the middle of a large and intensive project. There were too many things demanding her time and attention, yanking her in all directions at once, and something had to give. She couldn’t quit her job to become a full-time caregiver for who knew how many years! Not when she was the sole breadwinner and not while Rose was still terrified to even look at her grandmother, and until someone invented a time machine, she couldn’t look after both of them at once.

Priscilla was the last of her extended family members who hadn’t mumbled a vague promise of seeing if they could fit helping Daphne out into their suddenly very busy schedules, all with the same air of Judgement that Daphne couldn’t manage for herself. Daphne had hoped that the Cafe would stop Priscilla from brushing off her request like the rest of the family had, but no such luck.

Instead, she hadn’t even managed to finish asking for help before Priscilla shrieked for the whole cafe to hear, and she clearly wasn’t in a listening mood now.

Abruptly, Daphne turned away. “Just forget it.”

Priscilla caught her arm before she could run home to cry into her pillow. “Hey. I was just shocked. I don’t agree with your decision, but I’m willing to hear your reasons.”

Daphne let herself be pulled to sit down on a park bench, even though all she wanted to do was snap that maybe Priscilla should have tried listening the first time. “It’s just while I’m at work or driving Rose to her appointments. Three of my Team are going on Parental Leave, one has a family member with a chronic illness; I can’t just drop everything when Mom starts forgetting things, not now.”

Parental Leave was three years for women, two and a half for men. Women started from the day their pregnancy was confirmed by a doctor, men from the point where their wives started needing help. Parental Leave was at full pay, of course, until the children could start pre-school. After that, days off were granted without question whenever a child was sick or had a day off school.

Then there was Caregivers Leave, another thing granted without question or exception. Daphne knew for a fact that Dave, at her previous job, had called in a full day whenever his elderly parents couldn’t work out how to turn on the video function on their phone. Yet, she’d been the one let go for calling him on it after a solid month of having to pick up his workload as well as her own every other day.

Daphne could claim Caregivers Leave herself, but that would reduce her team of six down to two, and they’d never finish on time! They were lucky that the ones going on Parental Leave were willing to work from home until the project was complete in six weeks. If they lost the project, and the Life Insurance company kept finding excuses to avoid paying out…

Priscilla was the only one who Daphne had told about the Dementia diagnosis. “It’s that bad already?”

Daphne could only nod, “She has moments when she doesn’t recognise Rose or me, and it’s getting worse. Mom nearly set the kitchen on fire last week, forgetting she’d put a pie in the oven. I need support, and I don’t have siblings to share the load.”

She sniffled, not wanting to break down here and now. Priscilla patted her arm in helpless sympathy. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

Only if someone happened to remember why Daphne was a single parent, before the Moms and Bubs group told the entire town, and there was slim chance of that! Daphne should probably add ‘finding a new favourite cafe’ to her To-Do List, as well. “I appreciate the afterthought.”

Hopefully Daphne could get through the project and the completion bonus before someone doxxed her and complained to the company about hiring “Undesirables”. Having to update her resume and look for a new job with the social stain of being a Bad Parent/Caregiver would just be the rancid icing on an already-stale cake…

This was inspired by a conversation in a Womens Group, where people were talking about how different the world would be if emotional labour and caregiving were valued equal to earning an income.