A Rare Diagnosis and Many Unknowns
In March of 2020, Jill was living in Nashville, working a demanding job at an advertising agency. Her dad lived in Virginia Beach and had been dealing with persistent back pain for months. What everyone expected to be a routine scan turned into something far more serious: a diagnosis of a rare genetic form of lymphoma.
The timing couldn’t have been worse. COVID had just shut the world down, complicating every aspect of care. Since Jill could work remotely, she packed up her life and moved back to Virginia to help care for her dad. Within weeks, she became his primary caretaker—managing medical appointments, household needs, and daily care, all while working full-time.
“I don’t even feel like there was a big family discussion,” Jill says. “I was the oldest, I could work remotely, and I just said, ‘I’m coming back.’”
Because her dad’s cancer was so rare, he was referred to the University of Virginia for assessment. Doctors created a treatment plan involving chemotherapy and radiation, but week after week, nothing seemed to work.
There were good days and bad days. Optimistic weeks and exhausting ones. Jill jokes that on his better weeks, her dad carried his chemo bag – “the chemo purse,” they called it – and somehow seemed more himself. During harder weeks, everything felt heavier.
“You’re constantly waiting,” Jill explains. “Waiting to see if the treatment is working. Waiting to see how they feel that day. Waiting for answers you may never get.”
What Caregiving Looked Like
ill’s days started early. She fed the dogs, managed the house, took work calls, drove her dad to appointments, tracked his medications, prepared meals (which he often didn’t want due to loss of appetite), and made sure he stayed hydrated and rested.
“It was like working three full-time jobs at once,” she says.
Every other day brought another appointment. Some visits lasted hours. Sometimes Jill sat outside oncology offices in the heat, taking work calls while waiting. Other days, she squeezed in workouts in parking lots, simply trying to keep going.
“You don’t realize how many things you’re tracking,” she says. “Calories. Fluids. Bathroom trips. Medications. Symptoms. You basically become a nurse.”
All of this happened without outside help. Because of COVID, hiring support or respite care was incredibly challenging, so Jill and her sister did everything themselves.
Her dad, once independent and decisive, sometimes resisted help altogether. Jill describes the emotional strain of parenting a parent: the power struggles, the frustration, the guilt that followed moments of impatience. There were moments they both needed a timeout.
Looking back, Jill is grateful she was there to support her dad, while also acknowledging she didn’t always show herself the same care. She shares her story to help others stepping into a primary caregiver role feel less alone, and more prepared.
Looking Ahead
Caregiving often happens silently. Unlike maternity leave or planned life transitions, it arrives suddenly – without a roadmap or warning. Jill’s message is simple, and hard-earned: care for yourself, so you can care for those you love.
DO prioritize your own mental and physical health.
Jill credits virtual therapy with helping her survive the emotional weight of those months.
DO consider taking a step back from work.
Beyond company leave policies, federal programs may offer relief or flexibility. “I wish someone had told me I could take time off — truly step away. I tried to do everything, and it came at a cost.”
DON’T shy away from asking for help.
Whether it’s meals, rides, cleaning, or errands — help matters. “I wish I had let people show up.”
DO find an organization system that works for you.
Caregiving is more than love – it’s logistics. Tracking medications, monitoring symptoms, advocating with doctors, etc. You may just need a “chemo purse” to carry it all!
DO be patient with your parents, and yourself, as roles reverse.
The role reversal with parents is harder than you expect- emotionally and mentally, it’s disorienting.
DO take care of yourself early, not as an afterthought.
Burnout doesn’t help anyone. “You never get this time back,” Jill says. “And you don’t want regrets about how you showed up.”
“If you don’t take care of yourself,” she says, “you will break down. And when you break down, everyone feels it.”
Manana Matters:
If you’d like to explore how Manana might support your family’s journey—whether through part-time help, flexible check-ins, or full-time caregiving— call or text to get started (615) 212-9609.
Want to share your story? We would love to know how Manana has made an impact in your life, or the life of someone you love.
