What happens when the caretaker needs care?

I make pots of minestrone and loaves of bread for people who are ill.
I send care packages full of puzzle books, crayons, Silly Putty, games, and magazines to injured friends and family.
I give flowers to people I love who are going through rough times.
I helped raise hundreds of children, whether in their home or school.
I treated kids with special (emotional and physical) needs.
I spent weeks playing nursemaid to my former partner when he was hurt.
I stepped away from my life for a bit to take care of my mom when my dad died.

I take care of people. It’s not just what I do, it’s who I am. I am a caretaker. It’s a role I now accept willingly and proudly. It gives meaning to my life.

What happens now that I am the one injured and could use some care and concern? Well, it’s hard for me to accept it, but I am also hurt by the lack of it. I don’t really know how to deal with someone taking care of me, even though that is something I want so very much. So I am taking care of myself the best I can, being thankful for any concern which comes my way, and realizing it’s OK if people don’t respond the same way I do. I’m using the time in my sickbed to evaluate how the caretaker role works for me and how I can take better care of myself.