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The Hunt (My Mom’s Alzheimer’s)
It’s a Saturday morning and Mom has slept in. She has not answered my knock on the door, an increasing trend. It has become a habit for her to be resistant to getting up, regardless of how long I wait.
Hunger does not motivate her, nothing does. When I serve her breakfast in bed, it now means cleaning up bits and pieces of the food from under the covers, in the toy cat’s fur and on the floor. She eats even her favorite items glumly. Toasted onion bagels and turkey bacon now lay half eaten on the plate. Eggs go untouched. Creamy, sweet, hot coffee no longer elicits the “Hmmm, good.” it used to. And conversation prompts little or no response.
Joy is definitely trending downward in this household as Mom refuses any and all signs of positivity. I try to lift her mood as I walk in the room,
“Good morning, Mom!”
She is awake, but my sunny ‘howdy-do’ is met with glum silence.
“Did you sleep well?”
“No,” she replies flatly.
“Why not?”
My question is met with silence.
“Do you feel okay?
No response.
“Bad dreams?”
More silence.
“What do you have to be grateful for today?”
