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No Wake Up Call Necessary Yesterday

After having to wake her for five consecutive days, Kate got up on her own shortly after 10:00 yesterday. About 10:45, I checked on her and found that she had taken her shower and gotten back in bed. At 11:20, I checked again. She was still in bed and said she needed clothes. When she went to take her shower, she had her clothes in her arms. I went to the bathroom and brought them to her. She asked for her underwear. I couldn’t find them but knew that she had them earlier. I pulled back the sheet where she had been resting. There they were.

I went back to the bathroom to straighten up. She had used the two bath towels I had  out for her, but she had gotten into the drawer where I keep the wash cloths and hand towels. She had pulled out several of each that were thrown on the floor.

She put on her top. I reached up and straightened it for her. She shrugged and said, “You have to remember that I am capable of some things.”  As she started to put on her shoes, I was about to leave. She said, “Wait a minute. Don’t leave until I tell you.” These words sound harsher in written form than they were to me. She was trying to say, “I might need your help.” I stayed for a few minutes. When she appeared to be getting along fine, I said I was going to the kitchen. She didn’t stop me. A few minutes later, I heard her say, “Hey.” When I got to the bedroom, she wasn’t wearing her pants. She didn’t say a word, she knew I would understand. She couldn’t find them. I walked over to the chair in which she had been sitting and picked up the pants and gave them to her. She gave me a sheepish look and said, “Thank you.” For the rest of the day she was fine.

Since it was past noon, we skipped her muffin at Panera and went directly to lunch. Afterward, we came home for about forty minutes. She took that opportunity for a nap. She seems to have been tired all week, but not necessarily at bedtime. It makes me think about her sleep patterns as a sign of significant change. This started at the end of March when she started sleeping later in the morning. Since then her sleep as been erratic. She definitely gets up later than she used to, but once every week or so she surprises me and gets up early. That hasn’t happened over the past week.

Her sleep pattern has been accompanied by greater memory problems, confusion, greater dependence on me, and minor discomfort at my leaving her with a sitter. I know greater change is ahead. I just don’t know how quickly it will occur. If the current decline continues at the same pace, I am afraid it will be sooner rather than later. We are now less than four weeks away from our trip to Texas for Thanksgiving. Despite the changes that are occurring, it seems to me that we will be able to make it.

I have detected another minor change this week. Until the last day or two, she has called me by name when I was in another room and she needed something. Several times this week, she has just said, “Hey.” I take that as a sign that it is getting harder for her to think of my name. That would not be a big surprise. I have been well aware that she can’t remember my name most of the time. It’s just that she has been able to remember when she needs something. That may be going away.

Although she still asks me my name, her name, and the names of our children, she is more frequently asking, “Where are we?” This is something she done for a long time. It’s just happening more frequently. Coming home from Casa Bella last night, she asked me several times where we were.

Speaking of Casa Bella, we were there for Broadway night last night. This was a more spectacular program than others we have attended there. That’s an overstatement since the only accompaniment was a keyboard, no sets, and singers used music. There were, however, six singers instead of the customary two. All the music was from Les Miserables. Regular readers will remember that this is our favorite musical, and Kate was as taken by this production as she has been by the 25th anniversary concert in London. While there is no comparison between last night’s program and that one, the music is always good, and the singers were outstanding. Kate responded with tears and soft, but audible, Continue reading “No Wake Up Call Necessary Yesterday”

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My Dad

Today, the 105th anniversary of my dad’s birth, I am thinking a lot about him. He was a character. Everyone who knew him recognized that. He enjoyed life and invited others to join him. People, especially Kate, tell me I talk a lot, but I had a hard time keeping up with him. He was also a man with a sense of humor that sometimes fell outside the customary boundaries of propriety. Until his stroke in 2010, he was quite active on email. He was one of those who regularly sent jokes to his distribution list. I wasn’t on his list, but several of my female colleagues at the office were. I also learned that his Kiwanis club asked him to be more sensitive concerning jokes about sex and politics.

It isn’t his talkative nature or his sense of humor that I am thinking about most on this day. He was also a devoted husband to my mother. My mother loved to tell about seeing him for the first time in the ninth grade. She said, “Right then, I knew I was going to marry him.” She was right. They married right after high school when she was 17 and he was 18. After Dad’s death, my brother found a batch of old letters. Among them was an Easter card from my mother that she must have given him in the mid-1990s when she was around 80 and before dementia changed her life. She wrote a note that said, “From the first time I ever laid eyes on you, I have loved you – and I will love you forever.”

Mom and Dad were married 70 years and devoted to each other. That is what I’m thinking about today. Mom cared for him a lot until dementia entered the picture. At that point, Dad rose to the occasion and became her loving caregiver. They moved to Knoxville on Memorial Day weekend 1994. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I am sure now that she was in the early stages of dementia when they arrived. Although I was with them a good bit, it was three or four years later when I realized that. She died in November 2002.

Dad was her sole caregiver right up until her death. She slept in the same bed with him until three days before she died when hospice brought in a hospital bed and put it right beside their bed. My brother, Larry, and I tried to bring in help without success. The only regular help he had was an adult day care center. Every Wednesday morning he dropped her off. Then he went to Kiwanis and did a little grocery shopping. I helped by visiting with them regularly and bringing in meals.

Although Dad was a big talker, I don’t recall his saying much about what was going on. I do remember his telling me that she would get upset with him and then quickly forget. I also remember that he tied one end of a string around her arm and another around his so that he would wake up if she started to get up during the night. I never heard the first word of frustration or complaint. On days when I took them places, I rolled her to the car in her wheel chair. To get there we had to roll across the grass. That adds a measure of difficulty. When I would fold the chair and put it in the trunk, I wondered how Dad, in his upper 80s at the time, could do this on a regular basis.

So, on this 105th anniversary of his birth, I have a new admiration for Dad. At the time, I had no idea what he and my mom were experiencing, nor did I know that I would be walking the same pathway a few years later. Now, I understand his desire not to relinquish her care to someone else. He felt he was the one who knew her best and could provide the best care for her. That took a toll on him the last year or two of her life. Fortunately, he bounced back after her death and lived another 11 years to celebrate his 100th birthday. He was quite a guy.

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Another Slow Start, Confusion in the Evening

Once again, Kate slept late, and, once again, I had difficulty getting her up. Since I knew the sitter was coming at 1:00 and that I was trying to get to the Red Cross for my platelet donation, I pushed a little harder to get her up. That may account for the fact that she was grumpier than yesterday. As we prepared to walk out of the house, she apologized twice. We left for lunch at 12:30. I called Mary and asked that she meet us as Panera so that I could eat and go directly to my donation.

Before Mary arrived, I reminded Kate that this was the day for my platelet donation and that Mary would meet us and take her home. That didn’t seem to bother her at all. I was glad about that. When I got home, Kate and Mary were in the family room. Kate was working on her iPad. After Mary left, I walked over to Kate, and she rolled her eyes. It was clear that she didn’t like being left with a sitter, but she didn’t make an issue of it.

It wasn’t long before we went to dinner. Near the end of the meal, she said, “We were really lucky to have those women who took care of him.” I didn’t know who she was talking about. She continued. It sounded like she was talking about her sitters. Then she mentioned how much I helped her. She said, “I could have done it without you, but you made it so much easier.” I asked who she was talking about and discovered she was talking about the helpers who took care of her mother.

She continued to talk about the good care her mother had gotten and how glad she was that we had been able to keep her in our home. She kept repeating the same things over and over for about 10-15 minutes. Then we got up to leave. As we walked by the hostess station, we said goodbye to the owner of the restaurant. Kate said, “I’m so glad we were able take care of my mother.” She said this as though the owner had been a part of our conversation at the table.

Once in the car, she kept repeating how much I had helped her, that she could have done it herself but it was easier because of me. As in all conversations, she did not mention any specifics because she can’t remember, but she retains a strong feeling for her mother, the care she got in the last years of her life, and how good she feels about that. Even after getting home, she continued the conversation. What struck me most is that her feelings are so strong that she couldn’t let go of the topic. I don’t know anything else that can stick with her for such a long period of time.

I went into the kitchen to get something. When I came back, she was working on her iPad. I sat down to write this post. Twenty minutes later, she closed her iPad and said she was tired and that she can really “do this” (work on her puzzles) better during the day. I suggested we go to the bedroom, and I would find something on YouTube that she might enjoy. She liked that. On the way to the bedroom, she seemed confused. She said she didn’t know how she would get along without me. At first, I thought she was talking again about my support in caring for her mother. As she talked a little more, it was clear that she was talking about my caring for her.  She was depending on me to tell her exactly what she needed to do. I told her I would get her a night gown, and she could get ready for bed. She needed help getting her gown on and wanted me to tell her every step to take to get ready. Several times she repeated how much she needed me. This was one of those times when I experienced both a desire to help her as much as I could while at the same time feeling sad that she was recognizing her dependence. This was not as bad as watching her painful anxiety attacks. This was simply a recognition of her dependence, and I assured her that I would always be here for her. She seemed to be accepting her dependence without any fear but with gratitude. Once again, she said how much she needed me. Then,  just as naturally said, “What’s your name?”

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Slow Start Followed by a Recovery

Until the past five or six months, Kate’s sleep pattern had been fairly predictable. She used to go to bed reasonably early (between 8:00 and 8:45) and got up about twelve hours later. Sometimes she rested during the day but rarely went to sleep. The result was a predictable daily schedule for us. We almost always went to Panera and got there between 9:00 and 9:45. Even then, I avoided making any commitments before noon. Now, I find it difficult to predict when she will get up. That and the fact that it takes her much longer to get ready has a significant impact on our daily routine. We often pass up Panera and go directly to lunch.

I had to wake her again yesterday. That made four days in a row. Although she was sleeping soundly the previous three days, she got up with little difficulty. That wasn’t the case yesterday. I started playing music for her at 10:00. At 10:15, I checked on her and found that she was still asleep. I tried to wake her gently several times over the next hour and forty-five minutes. I was able to get her out of bed shortly after noon. She wasn’t ready to leave the house until 1:50 and arrived at the restaurant for lunch after 2:00.

After her shower and before we left the house, she was grumpy. She felt I was pushing her. I obviously communicated that I thought it was time to go. At one point she sternly said, “I’m getting ready.” I said, “I don’t mean to rush you. Well, I guess I really do want to rush you; I just don’t want you to feel rushed.” She laughed. I took that as a good sign. Then as we reached to door to leave, she stopped and said, “I love you.” I think that was an apology.

She was just fine and talkative all the way to the restaurant. She asked how long we had been married. When I told her 55 years, she was surprised and said, “That can’t be. I’m not that old.” I reminded her that we have a daughter who will soon be 50. She asked her name. When I gave it to her, she said, “Oh, she’s married to Greg. He’s a nice guy.” Kate has great difficulty remembering names, but she always recalls his name when I tell her Jesse’s first and last names. Then she started talking about her mother and father and how important they had been in her values. At lunch, she was not as talkative, but she did talk about our meeting at TCU and how lucky we were to find each other. Sometimes, she just says, “Thank you, TCU.”

It was after 3:00 when we got home. A little later, we went out to get our flu shots before going to dinner where we had two separate conversations with people we know. When we got home, we relaxed a while before getting to bed. Kate was in bed by 8:30, but she wasn’t asleep when I got in bed at 9:45. I’m curious to see if I have to wake her this morning and also eager to see how the visit with the sitter goes this afternoon.

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Everyday Life

At Rotary yesterday, several people asked me how Kate and I are getting along. My answer is very much the same as it has been as long as I can remember. I say “remarkably well.” I believe that is just as true as it was when I adopted that as my standard answer. Recently, I have modified it slightly to say that over the past few months she has declined more significantly than in the past. Depending on the situation and the person I am talking to, I may say something like “She is now having trouble remembering my name as well as her own.” Then I add that we continue to be active and are enjoying ourselves. I think that is a reasonable summary of where we are right now. It just doesn’t fill in the details of what is going on. I try to do that in this blog.

I think yesterday presents a good picture of our daily lives. It was our day for the sitter, and Kate slept later than I would like in order for me to take her to lunch before the sitter arrived. I tried to get her up at 9:30. She seemed very tired, but she was ready for lunch around 10:45. That made it easy for her to have her lunch and get back home. She was neither very cheerful nor grumpy and not very talkative. Shortly after sitting down at our table, she asked my name. I told her. Then she said, “Wait, a minute. Say it again.” I did. She repeated it. Not five minutes later, she asked again. I told her. Over the course of the next few minutes, she asked another two times.

I told her that I would be going to Rotary and that Marilyn would be with her while I was gone. She asked me several times in a row to repeat Marilyn’s name. She wanted to know her first and last name. She was never able to remember it, but she did not express any concern about not being able to remember or the fact that I would be leaving her. Marilyn was already there when we drove up. Kate greeted her cheerfully. We chatted a few minutes. Then I told Kate I was going and would be back later. She asked what she could do. I told her she could stay at home and work on her iPad, talk with Marilyn, or look at some of her photo albums. I also mentioned Panera. That seemed to interest her. When I said goodbye, Kate gave me a dirty look.

When I got home, they were in the family room where Kate was working on her iPad. Marilyn said they did not go to Panera. She mentioned that they looked at the photo book Kate’s brother had made for her and that Kate had also taken a nap. After Marilyn left, I walked over to where Kate was seated. She said, “I’m glad you’re back.” I said, “I’m glad to be back. I like being with you.” She said, “I like being with you.” She placed emphasis on “you” as if to say “and not the sitter.” I said something about Marilyn’s being nice. She said, “She’s all right.” I didn’t pursue the discussion. I think we’ll just have to live with this a while.

The highlight of our day occurred later that evening. I should point out that our time together late in the day until we go to bed seems to be the most consistently good time we have. That may relate to the fact that I am more relaxed. By that time our routine is consistent, and I don’t have to think too much about entertaining her. We have a pleasant dinner. We come back to the house where I usually watch the news while she works on her iPad. Then I put on a DVD of a musical or something similar. Last night, I decided to go to YouTube for some of their musical performances. That turned out to be a real winner. Kate loved it. When I decided it was time for us to call it a night, she said, “It’s been a great day” several times. I also thought we had been well-entertained, but I especially liked seeing Kate’s response. We sampled an assortment of music and performers starting with the video of Kevin Spacey and Billy Joel and “The Piano Man” that I had played for Ellen on Sunday. Then I played about thirty minutes of Andrea Bocelli followed by The Three Tenors (Pavarotti, Domingo, and Carrera).

Kate’s confusion seems to be getting worse. That was expressed in a number of ways yesterday. As we prepared for bed, Kate said, “Where are we exactly right now?” At first, I said Knoxville, but she wanted a more specific answer. I told her we were in our house. She reacted with surprise. She seems to be putting more emphasis on knowing where we are now. She has asked that a long time, but it seems to be more frequent now. I can tell by other things she says that she often thinks we are out of town. At dinner last night, she said, “Are we in Fort Worth?” I mention this as another illustration that she is frequently confused, but it doesn’t keep us from experiencing enjoying life. We’re getting along “remarkably well.”

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Sunday in Nashville

After leaving Ellen Saturday afternoon, we had dinner and then went to our hotel for the night. Normally, we drive back to Knoxville on the same day, but my longtime friend from, West Palm Beach, Gary Dinkins, and his wife, Jeanette, were in Nashville for Gary’s brother’s 80th birthday. We stayed over a night so that we could have lunch with them.

Kate was tired after the day’s activity and was in bed early. She also slept late. I’m not sure how long she might have slept had I not awakened her around 10:00. Like the previous day, she was a little sluggish getting up. I let her rest another thirty minutes before getting her up.

As with everyone we get together with, she had to ask me Gary and Jeanette’s names several times on the way to meet them. She had done the same thing with Ellen. In fact, after spending 90 minutes with her, she said with surprise, “That was Ellen.” as we walked away from her. I don’t know at what point she forgot who we were with. I know that she was aware at some points during our visit because of the things we talked about. There were references to Ellen’s father and children and several friends. Kate gave no sign of wonder as to who we were visiting.

The visit with Gary and Jeanette went very well. I always wonder how she will do in different social situations. I’m not sure why I wonder. She handled herself quite well. She connects very well with both of them. She was at ease from the beginning and was an active participant in our conversation. Gary and I go back a long way. We knew each other as far back as junior high school and were roommates at TCU our freshman year. We don’t lack for things to say. Kate picked up on that. Several times she had side conversations with Jeanette. I could tell she was talking about our “gift of gab.” That’s a kind way of saying we talk too much. Despite that, she truly enjoyed herself. It was obvious to me while we were together, and she specifically mentioned having had a good time as we walked to our car. That meant as much to me as my own personal pleasure.

We topped off the day with a nice phone call from our daughter Jesse. We always enjoy catching up with her and her boys. Our conversation was a particularly nice one. It’s great to say that we had another good day.

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Adapting to Change

None of us escapes change. It’s all around us. For those of us living with Alzheimer’s it’s the same. The difference is the source of those changes. In our case, it’s the plaque and tangles that keep growing inside the brain. We’ve learned to expect some changes. Others are unexpected. Regardless, we adapt.

Our weekend trip to Nashville causes me to reflect on a minor change that I experienced in connection with travel. By itself, it is really unimportant, but it is illustrative of the required adjustments that we continually face. It relates to my personal morning routine.

I have always gotten up earlier than Kate. I also like to eat breakfast shortly afterwards. It had been my custom to get up, shave, dress, and go to breakfast while she slept. I have followed this same routine when we are traveling. In the rare event that she woke up before my return (I’m not aware that it ever happened), she understood where I was and didn’t worry. I felt there was no reason to hurry, so I left with my computer or iPad and took my time getting back to the room. Later on, I began to be concerned that she wouldn’t remember where I was. I started leaving a sign that said I was at breakfast and would be back soon. In addition, I took the words “back soon” seriously and didn’t stay any longer than necessary to eat breakfast. I ate quickly and went back to the room. When we are in Lubbock we stay in a Residence Inn where they have a buffet. I request a room on the first floor so that I can get to breakfast and back easily and also take something for Kate. That has worked well for quite a while.

Saturday night in Nashville we stayed in a Marriott and were on the fourth floor. My concern about leaving her has increased significantly during the past few months. Before making the trip, I decided that I would request room service so that I didn’t have to leave her at all. For me, that represents quite a change. Eating breakfast in the semi-darkness of a hotel room is not my idea of the best way to enjoy breakfast. The only other time I recall ordering room service was in 1976 when our family was in Medellin, Colombia. Our children were 7 and 5 at the time, and I am sure that was motivated by convenience.

As I look ahead, I believe our travel is coming to an end. We do have a trip scheduled for Thanksgiving with our son and his family. In that case, our room is likely to be on the first floor again. That should enable me to slip to the buffet and bring breakfast back to the room.

This is hardly the most serious problem involved in our travel. lf it were, I would happily go without breakfast at all (if necessary, of course <g>). The most serious issue is losing her. That has happened several times. Another is getting through airports. Going through security is more challenging. Use of restrooms is another. Regardless of how serious the potential problem, each one requires changes from the way we used to do things.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, much in life is changing, and all of us are adapting. There is a significant difference in caring for someone with dementia, and I am reminded of the words of the serenity prayer. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” As caregivers, we cannot change many of the things we face. That leaves us only one option. We must do the changing ourselves. Those for whom we care cannot.

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Our Visit With Ellen

Yesterday was one of those days when Kate slept late. I tried to get her up around 10:00, but she wanted to sleep a little longer. I tried again at 10:30 and was successful.

When we got to Ellen’s memory care facility, she was in bed. She woke up quickly and was surprised to see us. That has been true the past four or five times we have visited her. Although she has been in memory care for at least two years, that is the only significant sign of her memory problem I have noticed. I know that her daughter tells her that we are coming. Ellen simply can’t remember. This is another reminder of how difficult it is for someone who is not around all the time to detect memory issues. To me, this has to be one of the biggest differences in caring for a parent and a spouse. It is much easier to see the signs of dementia for a spouse than for a parent. I was living in the same town as my mother and visiting her regularly and missed the earliest signs.

Having said that, I do notice more change in Ellen with each visit. At first, it was just the her speech. On subsequent visits her aphasia lessened so that we could understand about 60-70% of what she said. We found that challenging. Now we only understand about a third of what she says. That makes conversation even harder. It requires Ellen to repeat things a lot. For us, it means asking a lot of “yes/no” questions for clarification. Fortunately, she seems to understand everything we say. She clearly knows who we are, and she recognizes the names of mutual friends and acquaintances we mention. In fact, her understanding is so good that she seems misplaced in memory care. I don’t mean that she really is, just that it seems that way to casual observers like us.

It was a beautiful day yesterday. For the first time, we visited her on a back porch. We had been there about thirty minutes when Kate said she needed a restroom. I located an attendant who took her. This was the first time I had been alone with Ellen since her stroke over three years ago. For that reason, I have never said anything to her about Kate and how she is doing. After Kate left, Ellen put her hand on my knee and said, “How do you do it?” I was taken aback by her asking, but I answered, “With pleasure.” In the few moments we had, I explained how fortunate we had been and that even with her severe loss of memory, we are still enjoying ourselves. I also told her that we are going through big changes and that she sometimes doesn’t know me or herself. She didn’t ask any more questions before Kate was back.

As I have done on two previous visits, I brought my iPad and played about 30-40 minutes of music on YouTube. We started with “The Piano Man” with Billy Joel and Kevin Spacey at the Gershwin Award and followed that with a beautiful performance of “Don’t Cry for me Argentina” sung by Andrea Bocelli and Nicole Scherzinger. From there we went to several different choral works before it was time to leave.

This time it seemed much harder for Ellen to see us leave. I felt almost the way I did recently when I left Kate with a sitter. I know this was difficult for Ellen because we are about the only people from Knoxville that have been able to visit with her. I know of one other couple who were her neighbors. They have visited her once. I think one or two others from her church may have visited her the first year. This seems tragic to me. Ellen was very well known and liked in Knoxville and is a people person. For her to be in a memory care facility with few others with whom she can communicate must be depressing. I told her we would be back and that we would keep coming as long as we can.

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The Rest of the Story

Kate got up about 45 minutes after her confusion reported in my previous post. I am especially glad to report that she did not show any of the previous confusion. She didn’t ask my name or who I am. She was a little bit grumpy until we got to lunch. It was one of our days for a sitter, so I left for the Y about thirty minutes after we returned home. When I said goodbye, Kate looked a little disappointed and asked what she could do. I told her she and Mary could go to Panera or stay at home where she could work on her iPad. She said she would like to start by staying at home.

When I returned four hours later, Kate and Mary were in the family room. Kate was sleeping on the sofa. Mary said they had stayed at home the entire time. She said they had talked a little while, and Kate rested off and on. I was disappointed they had not gotten to Panera. I continue to think she feels more comfortable getting out with me than the sitter. I thought Kate would wake up when we were talking, but she didn’t. After I brought in a few things from the grocery, I went over to her. She opened her eyes. I asked if she would like to get up. She said she wanted to rest a little longer. After another thirty minutes, I asked if she would like to get a pizza. She did.

After dinner, I watched the news while she worked on her iPad. Then I played a portion of a DVD of My Fair Lady. She continued working on her iPad but seemed to enjoy the music. She went to bed shortly after 8:30. I was surprised after she had such a good rest during the afternoon.

It is now 9:00. She is still sleeping. We are going to Nashville today to visit our friend, Ellen Seacrest. She is in a memory care facility and has been declining very gradually over the past three years. Her most notable problem is her speech. It has been increasingly difficult to understand her. The last two times we have brought music into our visits. She responds positively to that. I may try that again this afternoon.

This time we are staying over night so that we can have lunch with a longtime friend from West Palm Beach. He is in Nashville for his brother’s 80th birthday celebration tonight. After our lunch, we’ll return to Knoxville. It should be a good weekend.

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Morning Confusion

About fifteen minutes ago, I thought I heard Kate and went to the bedroom to check on her. She was still in bed but awake and saw me as I walked in. She had a puzzled, even a bit fearful, look on her face. I sat down beside her on the bed. She said, “Where am I?” I told her she was in bed in our home. Then she asked, “Who are you?” Sometimes she asks and really means, “What is your name?” This time I sensed that she really didn’t recognize me. I told her my name and that I am her husband. She looked shocked. She said, “I don’t even know who I am?”

I told her I could help her. I told her that she was from Fort Worth and that her parents were Elizabeth and Charles Franklin. This was unlike other situations in which she was confused in that nothing I said seemed to make sense to her or to jog her memory. I continued to talk about family. I mentioned our children and a grandson who is now a student at TCU. The only thing that drew a spark of recognition was the mention of a couple of her aunts and one cousin. Her response seemed like something you might see in a movie when someone with amnesia is told about her life and doesn’t remember it. She didn’t say, but I imagined that Kate was thinking, “What’s wrong with me? I don’t remember any of these things.”

I asked if she wanted to get up and take a shower or to rest a little longer. She chose to rest. I told her I would come back to check on her. She said, “Please do.” Despite the fact that she didn’t know me, she seemed to trust what I was telling her. I believe that is another illustration of the power of her intuitive abilities as opposed to the rational ones she has lost. I am glad about that.

As with other signs along the way, I believe her not knowing any of her loved ones this morning is something that will not be true when she gets up or tomorrow. I do believe, however, that it is a sign of things to come.