Caregiver's Kitchen: Balancing Nutrition With Changing Taste
Dad is frustrated these days. He can’t always express what he’s thinking, as the words come out garbled or in no way that makes sense. It is hard to watch him sputter and stutter while trying to get his thoughts out. As the disease rages on, it is clear that he realizes he is losing the ability to communicate. This is to be expected, a normal symptom of Alzheimer’s. Steel yourself for it, smile and nod your head as though your cared for is making perfect sense. It will put them at ease again, and that is what matters most.
Dad has some rare days where he can talk about recollections with absolute clarity, but they are getting fewer and farther between. He only remembers World War II era and earlier, and only recognizes Mom, who went home to the Lord three years ago, when shown their wedding photo. Anything more recent, even complete family photos, seem to mystify him as he doesn’t remember that we are all family. Rather than frustrate him further, we answer any questions he has patiently and try not to upset him by contradicting any erroneous notions.
It’s enough for us that sometimes Dad remembers our names, & that he recognizes us and is happy to see us. His smile is almost heartbreaking. Even though my sister Jan is much younger than I am, we are similar height, body shape and hair color, so it’s easy for Dad to confuse us for each other. We let that slide, rather than correct him. The blessing is that he still usually realizes that we’re not strangers. He used to always recognize the grandkids, but his grandson Paul found himself kicked out on the porch one day when Dad, halfway through the afternoon, suddenly forgot who he was while I was out grocery shopping. Thank God for cell phones! I was able to return quickly and help Dad to understand that it was OK, Paul is my son & his grandson. Then he wanted to know who I was! When I pulled out my driver’s license to show him (my maiden name is listed as my middle name), he finally relaxed and believed me, even though he still insisted that he had no children.
Dad has no doubt that he is King of his Castle, and keeps his own hours. I can remember hearing my Mom say, “You know how stubborn your father is!” Dad refuses to go to sleep until my brother Donny comes home from work, even though Donny works second shift. Dad lives for when Donny gets home, delighting in the manly companionship of watching TV together. Dad loves CNN, because he uses the closed-captioning to help figure out what’s going on in the world. He has salty comments for various politicians he dislikes. We just go along with whatever he says. It makes him happy.
Late night bites for the guys are part of the ritual. Dad’s TV tray had better not be empty, or I’m in trouble! Trying to find something nutritious that will still be a finger food size snack takes some subterfuge to disguise some midnight veggies. Bumper crop zucchini is still everywhere. But Dad doesn’t like to chew anymore, and he’s a choke risk. Plus he doesn’t want to eat anything that isn’t sweet, & he loves chocolate. (If not watched carefully, he’d polish off a whole Whitman Sampler in one sitting!) What to do? Zucchini Chocolate Chip Sweet Bread is a way to disguise the green tribble & get its fiber and nutritional impact into your caredfor, chased by a cup of decaf coffee or tea. Perfect for breakfast, treat or dessert, it is also one that you can enjoy or serve to visitors.
Zucchini Chocolate Chip Sweet Bread
Grate 2 cups zucchini (yes, the skin, too; dark green means big nutrition! watch your knuckles and your fingernails), add 3 cups flour, a pinch salt, ½ teaspoon baking powder, 1 teaspoon baking soda, ½ teaspoon cardamom, ½ teaspoon nutmeg, 1 cup chocolate chips (milk or semi-sweet, your preference) and stir to combine. In a separate bowl, beat 3 eggs or equivalent amount of Egg Beaters, 1 cup applesauce, ½ cup sugar, 1 teaspoon vanilla. Add to zucchini & stir. Pour into 5 small foil loaf pans filling only ¾ full (unless you like scouring) & put on middle rack of preheated 350 degree oven ‘til a toothpick inserted comes out clean, from 30 to 45 minutes. Let cool, turn out of pan, & slice with a serrated knife. (This freezes well. Wrap and freeze the other 4 or give as gifts.) Enjoy.
Thank you for reading, & good health to you. Please send comments or questions to alzheimerannie@yahoo.com or write to me c/o The Parma Observer.