Lunch was almost over and Mom loves dessert so I went fishing around in my refrigerator for something sweet I could serve. To my surprise someone had sent the gift of sweets in the form of coconut fudge topped with almonds. It was freshly made so just the right amount of softness and gooeyness. Imagine a melt in your mouth kind of fudge and that’s what I served Mom today. Mom can never have enough of a sugar fix. It’s almost as if she has a separate stomach for the sweet stuff. So while she was still chewing the last bite of her meal, she was already restless for what she was craving, dessert.
Dementia has changed the pleasure of eating. A mind that cannot remember what has been eaten cannot possibly have enjoyed the meal. Or can it? I often think it’s a chore watching Mom trying to get through her meal. She struggles to chew on most things now. It takes her so long that most of us are done eating and it looks as if she is just getting started. She never requests for any of her cravings. If she is asked if she likes the food the answer is always a bland, “it’s okay.” I cannot tell if she genuinely thinks the food is mediocre in quality or whether the effort of chewing has her so tired that it really makes no difference if it tastes good or not. Or maybe her inability to keep up with our speed of eating has her disinterested in the meal and more interested in keeping the pace. If we get done then she declares she is full and doesn’t want more. Ironically she doesn’t remember that she hasn’t even started or that she is far from full.
And then comes the surprise. While the dementia mind (DM) doesn’t allow Mom to remember what she put in her mouth, the time she spends chewing on her bite gives her enough time to keep enjoying what tastes good, ie. the sweet stuff. In this case it’s the coconut fudge. I cut her a piece and put it on her plate. Seeing we were done eating she immediately rejects the fudge claiming she is full. It’s almost as if she doesn’t recognize it’s dessert. I remind her that this is dessert and then the DM stops in its tracks momentarily. For that split second the DM remembers that sweets and desserts are a favorite. So Mom takes the piece of coconut fudge and puts it in her mouth. Thirty seconds later all is forgotten. The DM does not remember what was put in the mouth. It’s just another bite which requires chewing.
If you have ever had fudge, no matter how deliciously soft and gooey it is, it takes a while to chew. So there she was chewing away at the fudge in her mouth when suddenly something clicked. Mom tasted the coconut flavor. She remembers the distinct taste of coconut. Mom becomes quiet for a bit while she is chewing. Then she turns to me and asks, “did we eat coconut?” I couldn’t help but smile. All the time Mom was chewing away made her aware of the taste of coconut. While she couldn’t remember in what form it was, her sense of taste allowed her to identify it. She may not remember that she is having dessert, but she remembers that she likes the taste of it.
As I begin clearing up the table, I leave the box of fudge and the knife and walk away leaving Mom alone at the table. Just as soon as I am out of sight, Mom peeks into the box. She sees dessert. She doesn’t remember she has already had it. She cuts herself another bite and quickly puts it in her mouth. As I return to the table I smile. She is fiddling with the box attempting to hide the fact that she has indulged herself in more. When it comes to dessert she could repeat this action as many times as I leave her alone at the table. Any confrontation would be futile in the face of the forgotten bite.
🩷 that was worth a write up