A Better Day, But Moments of Confusion

The way yesterday started was far better than the day before. I woke Kate just before 11:00. She smiled and was at ease. She was enjoying the music I had selected, but she wasn’t eager to get out of bed. Once she was up, everything went smoothly.

While we were eating, she said, “I don’t even know who my parents are?” She said this without any obvious sense of anxiety. It was said as though she were telling a friend about her having grown up without parents. As I told her about them, she was amazed and said, “I didn’t know any of this.” This conversation continued off and on throughout our meal.

We also had a slight rough spot during lunch as I was eating a bowl of tomato basil soup. When our server placed it on the table, she said the bread was better when dipped in the soup. Kate was eating bread at the time. I asked Kate if she would like to try it. She dipped her bread in the soup and then asked me to put some soup on her bread plate. I did, but she didn’t use it. Thinking she might not have noticed, I asked if she was going to dip her bread in it. She didn’t understand what I was talking about. I explained that she had asked me to put some soup on her plate for her bread, but she wasn’t using it as a dipping sauce. She felt as though I was scolding her, got a sad look on her face, and apologized. I told her she hadn’t done anything wrong; it was just a case of miscommunication. She was hurt, but it didn’t last long.

On the way home, she mentioned that she didn’t know her name. I told her and then mentioned her parents. She wanted to know their names. After telling her, she asked if I knew them. Then she asked if they knew her. I explained that they did and that they had loved her. Then she asked if she had ever known them. She showed none of the fright she had the previous day though she clearly conveyed a sense of regret about not remembering them.

She was tired when we got home and wanted to lie down as soon as we walked in the house. I got my laptop to jot down a few notes and sat in a chair across from her. In a few minutes, she began to cry. I walked over to her and asked what was wrong and if the tears were those of joy or sadness. The answer was joy. She said, “This is the first time I have ever really felt at home.” I didn’t push her to explain. I was just glad she was happy.

Before going to bed, she spent quite a while, at least twenty minutes flossing and brushing her teeth. She said she thought she needed to see a “doctor.” She feels something caught between her teeth and can’t get it out. I helped her floss but didn’t detect anything. I don’t know why, but I don’t see a dental appointment on my calendar. We always make one at the end of each visit. I’ll check on that this morning.

After she was in bed, she started pulling her hair as she does so often. It wasn’t long before she said, “Richard, (yes, she called me by name).” I said, “Yes.” She said, “I want to thank you for your patience.” I told her I was just happy to be able to help her. A few minutes later, she called my name again and said, “You know what makes it all worthwhile?” I said, “What?” She said, “You.” I said, “And you make my life complete. We made a good decision when we decided to get married.” In another few minutes, she said, “Hey!” I said, “What?” She said, “I’m glad to be here with you.” She repeated this five minutes later. This should give you a taste of one of the reasons I say that we have gotten along “remarkably well.” She is so appreciative, and I am working to be sure that she stays that way.

She was talkative when I joined her in bed. She continued to pull strands of hair for a long time. She said it was a lot of work to do this, but pays off in the end. She also talked about her teeth. She said it’s a small problem when compared with the big problems that so many other people face. She was very relaxed and happy. It was a great way to end the day.