About 7:30 yesterday morning, the video cam alerted me that Kate was getting out of bed. I went to the bedroom and walked her to the bathroom. At first, she took my hand but then felt secure enough to walk without it. She did need me to show her the way. When she came out, I asked if she needed fresh underwear, and she did. I helped her with that, and she got back into bed. As she did, she looked at me and said, “I’m sorry you have to do all this for me.” I find it very touching when she says things like this. It makes me wonder just how much she senses the seriousness of her situation. It is clear that she recognizes she has a memory problem and that she is dependent on me. She almost never displays any sense of anxiety or distress; however, I do sometimes think that she recognizes that something is wrong with her. Later in the morning she said something else that struck me the same way.
I thought she might sleep until I woke her around 10:30 or 11:00. I was quite surprised when she had gotten out of bed at 9:30. I went to the bedroom and helped her get dressed, and we were at Panera before 10:00. This was the first time we had been there before lunch in quite a while.
It was a day when she had a lot of questions. They were all the usual ones, just asked a whole lot more. She had other questions as well. Instead of being bothered by her constant questions, I found that we had a good conversation. It was a time when she seemed eager to learn things that she had forgotten.
It began as she was working a puzzle of a picture of colorful tulips in The Netherlands. She turned it around for me to see. I said, “It reminds me of the trip we took during the tulip season.” She said, “How could we afford that?” I told her that we both had been working and had saved our money for the trip. She had forgotten that she worked and asked me what she did. That led me to tell her about her majoring in English and teaching English for three years and becoming a school librarian after getting her second master’s degree. She was quite interested and, at no time, did I sense that she remembered any of this.
The conversation took various turns as she asked questions that redirected me from one thing to another. She asked me to tell her about her parents. She continues to hold strong feelings (all positive) about them, but almost never recalls their names. She didn’t yesterday, but she sometimes asks me if I knew them. As the conversation moved along, she asked where we were. I told her we were in Knoxville, Tennessee. She asked me to repeat it slowly two or three times.
Then she said, “I’m smart, you know, but I’m stupid.” I was surprised and asked what she meant. She said, “Forget it.” I told her I really wanted to know. Then she said she didn’t know what she meant. I asked myself, “Could she maintain a long-term sense that she is smart but recognizes how bazaar it is for her to repeatedly ask questions about things she should know?” I would love to know exactly what she thinks and feels.
We went back home for a short break before going to lunch with our pastor. This, too, was quite a good experience for both of us. He and I did most of the talking, but Kate also enjoyed it. His daughter is an undergraduate looking at a possible career in neurology. We talked a lot about the brain. I am sure much of this was puzzling to Kate, but many of the things we said involved music and its effect on people with Parkinson’s and other brain issues. There were plenty of things that she could appreciate even if she didn’t fully understand.
Kate had a massage at 3:00, and we went to Casa Bella for opera night at 6:00. Last night’s program and musicians were especially good. Kate loved the evening. What a nice day we had. Who would have guessed this would be possible eight years after her diagnosis? Her rational abilities are very weak. But her senses are still working. They provide great pleasure for both of us.
