Have you ever found yourself thrust into a job that you would never have applied for, and for which you didn't have the background or training? For which you felt you were unsuited in so many ways? And for which you are not allowed to quit or retire? That scenario might be the stuff of most people's nightmares, but for millions of Americans, it is the reality of life as a caregiver.
  The role of caregiver crept up on me very gradually. My fit and healthy husband, Mike, sixty-two years old, was exhausted and short of breath on returning home from a trip to Maui in 2012. He was still working at the time, and I was a happy retiree, active as a volunteer in my community, free to travel to see my children and grandchildren whenever I wanted.
  As his symptoms worsened, I took Mike to several local specialists, and finally to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, confident that a diagnosis and eventual cure were in our future. As the months wore on, he began to lose his eyesight to Retinal Vasculitis, then his bowel and bladder control. After a year-and-a-half of traveling back and forth to the Mayo Clinic, during which he was subjected to every kind of test, from PET scans to lung biopsies to spinal taps, we were told that he had a progressive, degenerative autoimmune disease that had no name. He was put on a high dose of steroids in an attempt to arrest his vision loss, and he was released.
  That cold day in February 2014, as I drove the four hours home from the Mayo Clinic through the snow, was the beginning of my career as a full-time caregiver. It was the most difficult thing I've ever done, but as the months turned into years, I found some basic strategies that allowed me to keep going from day to day