Life Matters Media was given permission to share an excerpt from Carrie Jackson’s essay set to appear in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Living with Alzheimer’s & Other Dementias. Jackson’s father died from Alzheimer’s disease in 2012, after nearly three years in hospice care. Jackson serves in the Memory Care unit at the Mather Pavilion in Evanston, IL, and on the Junior Board of the Alzheimer’s Association. Her essay recounts an afternoon visit to her father in his nursing home.
The Hand that Feeds
By Carrie Jackson
Music is one of my best ways to communicate with him so I start singing to him about Daisy and the bicycle built for two. My pitch and tone are way off, but I don’t care. It’s one of our favorite songs, and after a minute his eyes open. I ask him if he’s ever ridden a bicycle built for two. He says no, and I remind him how he used to put our dog Rusty in the grocery basket of his old bike and give him rides around Evanston. Finally, I get a smile. Then the moaning starts again.
I ask where it hurts: this time, it’s his shoulders. Jeff says he’s already had his pain medicine and we’re waiting for it to kick in. I ask Jeff if the hospice volunteer came today. He says yes; Dad says no. I believe Jeff. I put on some music. Ellington. We’ve changed the words a bit.
In our version, it’s “If you want to get from Sugar Hill to Harlem, you better take the A train.” We sit. His hands are soft. Softer than mine. His arms are splotched with purple and red marks. I take note of a few new bruises and cuts.
It’s dinnertime, and lately Dad has been taking his meals in his room. Jeff brings in some soup. Tomato barley. I stir it, taste it, and scald my tongue. After a few minutes it’s ready and I ask Dad to open his mouth. He does, takes a bite of soup and makes a horrible face but it stays mostly in his mouth. He chews for almost a minute and I wonder how that’s possible. I don’t see him swallow, but the chewing stops. I try with another spoonful, and another. Four more bites and he’s had enough. The bib is covered with spills. I wipe his mouth and nose. I haven’t seen him eat this much in months. Jeff brings in his plate.
Chicken and mashed potatoes. I know Jeff usually ends up feeding him Ensure, yogurt, and dessert—that seems to be all Dad will take these days. But I’m here, so we try for solid food and whole nutrition. And he eats. It surprises even me, but his eyes are closed and he’s reluctantly accepting every bite I bring to his mouth. Chew, chew, drool, chew, spit, moan, chew, swallow.
With each bite I feed him, I am reminded of what his doctors and the hospice team keep saying—as long as he has nutrition and is able to take food, he could survive for quite some time. And I think of the pain he is in. And I think of the loneliness in his eyes when I’m not there. And I wonder if what I’m doing is helping or hurting. He is chewing, swallowing, digesting. He is surviving. But is that what he wants? Is it worth it?”
Chicken Soup for the Soul: Living with Alzheimer’s & Other Dementias will be released April 22, 2014.