I recently read an article that encouraged caregivers to be sensitive to their own moods and the impact that can have on those for whom they care. The author stressed how well people with dementia can read moods and feelings long after they have forgotten most people’s names. I have long observed this quality in Kate. In fact, Monday morning while we were in Chapel Hill, she overheard a man talking on his phone. I hadn’t noticed him until she said, “I don’t like him.” As we sat there, she continued to pick up things he was saying. Several more times she repeated that she didn’t like him. I never knew exactly what he was saying, but it seemed to me that what she was not responding to what he said but the emotion with which he was expressing himself. That was far from the first time I have been aware of how much she reads the emotions of others. Almost all of those experiences have been more positive ones.
Long before I had been aware of the ability of people with dementia to read emotions, I believed my own emotions could or might influence how Kate is feeling. I thank my background in social psychology for that. One of the first things taught in the introductory course is that all of us influence others as well as being influenced by them. I had observed that in my relationship with Kate years before her diagnosis. Many times in this blog I have commented on how my own mood has been affected by Kate’s behavior. When she is not doing well, I don’t feel so well myself. When she is enjoying herself, I am too.
Over the past few weeks, I have been especially conscious of how she affects me. Even as she has declined, she has given me a boost when she has been cheerful. For a couple of weeks, she was very talkative. She was expressing gratitude and appreciation. At the same time, she was in the process of forgetting my name and her own, something that is certainly depressing; however, I was feeling good because she felt good. During her several anxiety attacks, my mood dropped significantly.
Over the past week or so, especially while on our trip to North Carolina, she has been less upbeat. This wasn’t so when we were with our friends but when we were alone. She rises to the occasion with others. That is definitely true at first. The longer we are together the more withdrawn she becomes. During the trip in the car, she was very quiet. That was also true most of the time we were alone. It was quite a contrast with her talkativeness in recent weeks.
Yesterday her mood was more upbeat. We had an especially good conversation at lunch. It wasn’t because she was any less confused about where she was or because she didn’t have trouble with names. In fact, it was one of those times that is such an interesting blend of her symptoms with her normal personality.
It began with her talking about our marriage and how fortunate we are. As she usually does, she brought up our children and how proud we are of them. Then she said, “What is your name?” I told her, and she asked her name. Then she asked me to tell her about her parents. I told her almost like telling a child a bedtime story. I told her their names and how they had met, about her mother’s moving from Michigan to Texas, and how she had become such a valued member of her father’s family.
Then she wanted to know about our children. Again, I told it like a story. I described our excitement when they were born and how proud we have been of the way each of them has matured. She took great delight in hearing about both her parents and her children. She was very happy. Although asking her questions is a clear expression of her memory loss, there wasn’t the slightest sign that she frustrated, anxious, or fearful. She was simply asking for and receiving information about those who are most precious to her and loving it. I am only sorry there was no way for her to grasp what an impact she had on my mood. I am also hopeful that with her further decline, we will still have moments like this.
