This story is based on an interview with Carol Colborn, 77, a retired academic from Mesa, Arizona. It has been edited for length and clarity.
My husband, William, and I married in 2008 when I was 60, and he was 65.
We both retired and went on an amazing adventure together: RV-ing full time across North America for eight years.
We drove to every state in the US, every state in Mexico, and every province in Canada. Then we traveled the world, visiting 29 countries in total.
The trips stopped after William was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2018, so we’re glad we built so many happy memories on the road.
He’d shown symptoms of the illness, mostly forgetfulness. I gave him a shopping list of three items written in large print, and he’d come back with two.
We had a ritual: he’d bring me a mug of herbal tea while we watched TV in the evening. It made me calm and serene and helped me sleep better. He’d done it every day since our wedding and, when he forgot the first time, I was distraught.
Courtesy of Carol Colborn
William had mild cognitive impairment for the first four years, which progressed into moderately severe Alzheimer’s.
He needed 24/7 support, and I was his full-time caregiver. He stayed in bed a lot of the time, but I gave him his medication, three meals a day, and baths.
I had chemotherapy for lung cancer
His mobility was limited, but we still did our evening walks past four houses. It was his main exercise.
Things were relatively manageable until July 2025, when I was diagnosed with lung cancer. I had surgery in September and was in the hospital for four days.
My daughter and William’s daughter stepped up to care for him, but it was a temporary arrangement because they lived in other states.
I began chemotherapy and had to juggle my husband’s health needs with my own. It was incredibly stressful.
Courtesy of Carol Colborn
“How can I take care of him while taking care of myself?” I asked myself. We considered assisted living, but we couldn’t bear the thought of leaving our own home.
One of our biggest expenditures was transport. William gave up driving long ago, and I’d never driven. It meant we’d spend around $500 a month on Uber rides to get to things like his doctors’ appointments and my cancer procedures.
We were paying between $30 and $40 a trip. It got to the point where we stayed home most of the time because we couldn’t afford the cost.
It was exhausting trying to navigate the Medicare system
The walls closed in on us. We didn’t go to mass or socialize with our friends. Things like date night at a restaurant were out of the question.
It was exhausting trying to navigate the Medicare system. It felt as if I was fighting for every benefit and getting nowhere. Every day was a challenge.
Earlier this year, I saw an ad on Facebook for Ez Health, a free or low-cost service that deals with Medicare on your behalf. It explained how federal legislation passed in January 2024, called Community Health Integration, aims to keep people who want to stay in their own homes as long as possible.
Courtesy of Carol Colburn
The program supports carers like me. We were appointed a health advocate, known as a guide, who helped me through the qualification process.
We suddenly got many of the benefits I’d been struggling for, including eight hours a week of respite care. We also had access to medical professionals who came to your home, such as a physical therapist, a palliative nurse, a dentist, and a phlebotomist.
Dining out again has strengthened our marriage
Our transport is subsidized. The guide introduced us to a local paratransit service that costs $3 per ride. It has saved us as much as $400 a month. Best of all, it’s opened up our world.
We use it not only for grocery shopping and health appointments — I’m having maintenance therapy for my cancer now — but also for date nights. Dining out again is transformative and has strengthened our marriage.
These days, rather than William’s caregiver, I refer to myself as his “present companion,” as I steer him through his later years.
