Once again, I am happy to report that the balance of our day yesterday was as good as the start. After returning from lunch, Kate rested for a little over an hour. Then we went to a movie. This was a bit unusual in that it was a movie we had seen just last week, RBG. Kate hadn’t remembered it, but she had enjoyed it. Since we didn’t have any special Memorial Day plans, I decided to take her again. We liked it just as much the second time, and I appreciated the artistry with which the story was told even more than before.
As we were getting out of the car before the movie, she again asked my name, and I told her. She is so very natural when she asks me. She shows no sign of being bothered by having to ask nor does she seem to be concerned about hurting me. Other than the question itself, she doesn’t sound like we imagine a person with Alzheimer’s would sound just childlike.
While we were at lunch, I received two DVDs from Amazon. One was Fiddler on the Roof. The other was Les Miserables. Last night we watched a portion of Fiddler. Although she was working puzzles on her iPad throughout the movie, she was following it and enjoying the music. I did as well. This is rather unusual since she hasn’t expressed much interest in TV programs or movies in a long time. It was a nice way to end the day.
Kate was already in bed as I pulled back the covers on my side to get in bed when she said, “Do I have a name?” I told her she did and went over to her side of the bed, sat down and told her. I said that she had a special name because it was a family name. That prompted her to say how much she loved all her aunts and uncles. She was in one of her talkative moods again. She started to talk about our relationship. She has a set of things she recites. She is glad we met and how fortunate that we have been. Last night she also talked about how comfortable she is when she is with me and how easy it is for her to say things to me.
I continue to interpret her behavior in light of what I have read in The Dementia Handbook. The loss of her memory is dramatically expressed in her failure to recall names and facts, but her senses are alive. Every few minutes as we watched Fiddler, she would say something about what a good movie it is and how much she liked the music. More importantly to me, she still has special feelings about our relationship and me. And, as she has said, “I can’t even remember your name.”
