Help with Meals

  My mother had Alzheimer’s disease. The caregiving a caregiver gives to an Alzheimer’s disease patient who is on the beginning stage doesn’t look like the typical one. Listening to the repeated stories of the patient is one example. People who are not familiar with Alzheimer’s disease tend to assume that the caregiver is doing nothing. This is a misunderstanding. Staying with a person who has trouble communicating for long time is difficult. I had lived with my mother for 14 years. I love my mother, but I felt it was torture. I took care of my mother with the help of my father and wife. We needed more people to take care of her. I didn’t have enough personal time. I had to give up many things I wanted to do. It was difficult to travel. I was almost a prisoner. But most people couldn’t understand what I was doing.

 One day, the change happened. I set food on the table, but she didn’t eat. Before that, she could eat a meal by herself. She forgot how to eat. I put food to her mouth with a spoon, and she started to eat.

Helping with meals had started.

When I was a child, I loved watching TV. In those days, this kind of plots was very popular in Japan: a good son or daughter taking care of a sick, aging parent; they help with meals. The patient might say, “Thank you for helping me every day.” Then the son or daughter might say, “We promised you would never say that again.”

On TV, caregiving was always obvious. It was easily understood. I had continued to take care of my mother for 12 years. Finally, I reached the “obvious” caregiving. If a bystander watched us through our window, the person might easily know that I was a caregiver! I felt happy that I finally got a clear position.

On TV dramas, it was always like this: a superhero shows up and saves all people who have problems and then a happy ending. I haven’t met a superhero, but my wife, care managers, and helpers have helped me. I wish my happiness.

Picture by Kyoko

Proofreading by ProofreadingServices.com