Swallow the Food!

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Alzheimer’s disease is a devastating, ravaging and relentless disease that robs a person of her mind and ability to take care of her physical needs. It starts as a few ‘memory lapses’ here and there, or simple forgetfulness. Most people lose some memory capacity as they age so it often goes unnoticed until it has become a bigger problem than most people realize.

My mother suffered with the early signs of Alzheimer’s disease long before we realized or acknowledged it was happening. It was just easier to assume that she was forgetful and deny that something worse was happening. But eventually it could no longer be ignored and we recognized the undeniable signs that something was terribly wrong.

Forgetting to turn off a stove burner, leaving the water running, or heading to the mailbox and forgetting why became more and more noticeable. She was becoming a danger to herself and to those around her. When she was finally diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, I remember asking the doctor, “How do we know when it’s time to get help?”

The doctor looked at me pitifully and said, “Just like most people, you have already passed that time.”

Those words stung and stuck in my mind for days and weeks. With five siblings and my father still very much aware of what was going on, we had at least six different opinions on what we should do. Strife and anxiety often filled our discussions as we talked about whether or not we could continue caring for her, or if we needed to seek professional help and consider a nursing facility.

It was not an easy or a quick decision, but we finally decided she and my father would be better off if she lived in a nursing facility. In July, we made the move and the myriad of emotions we all experienced were indescribable. Confused about whether we’d made the right decision; satisfied that she was better off physically; hurt that we had to separate our parents; happy that she would get excellent nursing care; and devastated that we had to take such a drastic step tore us all apart. The roller coaster ride was unbearable at times, but we all worked through it together.

One day about two weeks before my mother passed away, I was visiting with her at the nursing home and feeding her some lunch. On this day, she was having a particularly difficult time swallowing her pureed lunch. It frightened me so badly because I knew that she was probably getting worse and may not even be able to swallow soon. The thoughts of her not being able to eat overwhelmed me and for a moment, I lost all control of my own thoughts and sensibilities.

I began putting larger spoonfuls of pureed vegetables into her mouth and shouting to her to “Swallow the food!” But she just stared at me blankly as food slowly oozed from the side of her mouth. I became more frantic and pushed more food into her mouth before I finally realized what was happening. People with Alzheimer’s disease often get to the point that they can’t swallow and they don’t know what to do with the food. She had reached that point and for today, she was unable to eat.

Finally dropping the spoon and pushing the tray aside, I gently wiped her mouth and stroked her forehead. I smiled at her and said, “It’s okay – we’ll eat later.” I sat and held her hand and talked to her for a while.  I knew that she may or may not be able to swallow her food later – but for now that didn’t matter. All that mattered was loving her, talking with her, and enjoying time with her.

I knew her time was short.

She passed away about two weeks later and the overwhelming sadness was almost unbearable. Even knowing that the end was approaching did not prepare me for what was to come. But I find comfort in knowing that in her last days, we were all there for her and deep down inside the darkness of her mind, she could feel the love.

About the Author

Rhonda Day is a wife, mother and grandmother. Rhonda is a full-time freelance writer. Rhonda was a caregiver for her mother who had Alzheimer’s for many years. Rhonda is one of five siblings. Rhonda’s father and the five siblings cared for Rhonda’s mother at home for most of her illness.