Mom stared at me fiercely. “There’s nothing funny about this,” she said, her voice dry like a cracked piece of wood. I spent a whole hour trying to coax her to stop being so stubborn, but she kept repeating the same sentence: “Get me to bed!” The nurse has said it many times a day. There will be bedsores or something worse.
”Help me to bed!”
”In another hour, the nurse will help you to bed.”
Mom’s mood is so bad, I think she may not just do it for this matter, maybe she is thinking of thirty or forty years ago, What naughty things I did when I was a kid. I think maybe she was thinking, “How did I put you to bed again and again when you were a kid!” Maybe she still brooded about me sending her to a nursing home.
In fact, even if I want to break my head, it is useless. People with Alzheimer’s will just stare at them all day, making it impossible for people to guess, and they will talk to themselves without a word. The sick person sometimes doesn’t say anything, just sits and thinks about things, sometimes he talks endlessly, and the words he speaks are like broken china jars, and the pieces can’t be spelled together at all. In other words, it is only by seeing this kind of patient that one can understand how incomprehensible the human mind is, and this disease has completely turned the human mind into a mystery. This kind of disease shows that we can’t understand the essence of other people, and we can’t understand other people’s thoughts. As Alexander Pope said, “Life is a great disease,” and that’s what Alzheimer’s is all about, especially my mother, who was terribly ill.
My mother is 90 years old this year. She has been tortured by a disease for 15 years, and it has almost become an exhibit in the Ripley Museum of Anecdotes. She used to be a high school teacher with a fast brain, she would tell stories to children, and she had a great voice, but now I’ve watched her turn into an unintelligible monster. But everyone, she is still so beautiful, with snow-white hair and rosy skin. You can go up and touch her, she won’t bite. (But if you touch it again, you can’t tell.) Fourteen years ago, this little old lady was electrocuted once, but she has always been in good health. Whether she believes it or not, fate treats her like this. of.
I really couldn’t persuade her, so I had to comfort myself that maybe she could feel other happiness in those messy brain cells, in the altered neural network composed of 10 trillion neurons, in all parts of the brain. Maybe her whole brain is moving now, and all she wants is to get from the wheelchair to the bed, which is the most useful. People will have all kinds of small goals in their life, and they have nothing to do with each other. It is these small goals that make up the whole world. I didn’t let my mother get her “big wish”, and she naturally got mad at me.
Mom’s Alzheimer’s disease has various manifestations. Sometimes she doesn’t recognize me at all. She mistook me for a doctor, told me about the disease, and asked me to treat her. Sometimes I don’t say a word at all, sometimes I say something about my family’s past, all of which are made up. At this time, my mother became very interesting.
”Do you know Aunt Regina? She turned out to be a prostitute!”
”I don’t know.” Mom said that Regina was already dead. When we met her, she was in her 80s. That old lady Behaving like Margaret Thatcher, not like a prostitute at all.
”She charged ten bucks an hour back then!”
”I don’t believe it.”
”Did you bring me ice cream?”
Although the nurse wouldn’t let her, I still brought her some vanilla from a small cardboard box every now and then. Ice cream and feed her from a small flat wooden spoon. She now relies on a gastric tube to eat every day, and the cold and sweet ice cream makes her mouth water. She laughed and boasted, “It’s delicious.” Every time she took a bite, she would say it in the same tone, as if she was afraid to say thank you in another way, so I wouldn’t give it to her.
Talking used to make her happy, but now language is mainly a tool, I don’t know if what she said is consistent with what she thinks, maybe she can’t hear what she is saying. I have read the book and said that once the brain is broken, people can no longer tell stories and speak without logic. Of course, he can’t even talk to his lips. I wonder if my mother is slowly forgetting all the words she can say, and finally there is only one sentence left to accompany her for the rest of her life. What will this sentence be? I’ve been wondering if I really understand my mom, if she has Alzheimer’s on purpose, to prove that I don’t understand her. Maybe she thinks I have Alzheimer’s because she can’t understand me right now.
”Get me to bed!”
People always compliment my mother’s blue eyes, and because of her inheritance, I have the same blue eyes as hers. Now, our four blue eyes are looking at each other, her eyes are full of anger, and I look at her, trying to find a solution to the pain, and I sincerely pray that this pain will fall on me alone.
