The Past Two Days

Monday morning Kate got up early. I was glad because she was up in plenty of time to be ready for the sitter. She was more confused than ever. I’m glad to say that she wasn’t seriously disturbed about it. I wouldn’t call it an anxiety attack, but she was certainly puzzled. It was similar to what I can remember of movies with someone who is experiencing amnesia. This is hard to put in words, but she seemed in a deeper state of confusion and required a little longer to come out of it.

It began when she got out of bed and went to the bathroom. We went through what is becoming a regular routine. She asked about the picture of our daughter. When I told her she, she couldn’t accept that. I started to explain that she and I are married and have two children. That was too much for her. I gave up explaining things. I decided to let her senses go to work.

I took her by the hand to the hallway with the photos of her parents and grandparents. I showed her the picture of her mother taken around the time of her marriage. I told her who she was. She was taken with it as she usually is. We talked about her mother a few minutes. Then we went to the family room where turned on the soundtrack for My Fair Lady. I know she likes that and thought it might jar her memory.

I picked up her “Big Sister” album that her brother made for her. I showed her the cover photo. She didn’t recognize the two children. I said, “This little girl is Kate Creighton.” She said, “That’s me?” I said, “Yes, and this is your brother Ken.” I started to say more when she noticed the photo book of her father’s family. The cover has an ink drawing of the house in which her father grew up. I told her about the house and then opened to the first page of photos of her grandparents. Rather than reading the text, I just told her about her grandparents.

As we were getting started, she heard he song “With a Little Bit of Luck” playing in the background. She started moving her hand to the beat of the music and sang along with the lyrics of the title each time they came up. She asked me to stop talking about the photos for a minute so that she could listen to the music.

Between the photo book and the music, Kate started feeling more at ease. Before long, the doorbell rang. It was our sitter. I told Kate it was Cindy who was taking her to lunch. She looked puzzled. Then Cindy walked in, and Kate responded enthusiastically. That put me at ease. I was getting especially concerned about leaving her in such a confused state. I quickly gathered my things and left for Rotary. When I got home later, Kate was resting. Cindy told me that everything had gone well.

Yesterday was another day of ups and downs. Some of it was humorous. As I opened the car door for her after lunch, she said, “Take off your glasses.” I did. She said, “No, that doesn’t help.” I hope I can get through this without developing a complex about not being handsome.

The day started well. She was up early again. She did have one unpleasant experience. She looked at herself in the mirror and said, “I’m ugly.” I said, “I think you are beautiful.” This has occurred several times before, but her reaction this time was the strongest I have seen. The problem is her weight gain. She is forty to fifty pounds heavier than she was when she was diagnosed. Most of the time she doesn’t seem to notice the change. Twice in the past two days she has commented about drinking with only one straw instead of her usual two. She believes that will result in her drinking less.

We went to Panera but stayed only long enough for her eat her muffin. She worked on a puzzle while eating and got frustrated when she couldn’t go any further. She had completed all but one piece. She couldn’t see it because it was on top of the other pieces. Anyway, we went home where she got on the sofa for what I thought would be a short rest. Instead, she picked up her iPad and worked puzzles for the next thirty minutes before we left for lunch.

On the way home from lunch, we stopped by Target to buy candy for Halloween. That turned out to be a bad idea. I didn’t take into consideration that the candy is at the back of the store. That meant a long walk for Kate. She was ready to leave shortly after entering the store. We came back come where she rested in her recliner for almost two hours.

She went to sleep but woke up a short time before we went to dinner. I asked if she would like me to go through one of her photo books with her. She did. I pulled a chair beside her recliner, and we began. It wasn’t long before we slipped into a conversation about our lives together. We talked about our courtship and getting married. We also talked about our feelings for each other. It was a very tender moment. I recorded about fifteen minutes of it.

Before leaving for dinner she went to the bathroom. When she came out, I told her we were going to dinner and then to a musical performance at our local art museum. I helped her put on a different top that I thought would be more appropriate. Then I told her she looked beautiful. I followed that by saying, “Do you know that you are the most important part of my life.” She was unusually emotional and broke into tears.

All the way to dinner, she was concerned about being with other people last night. She said things like “I hope I don’t embarrass you.” or “I want you to keep me from doing something stupid.” I found it hard to believe that she would have remembered my telling we were going out after dinner, but maybe she did.

At dinner, she did something unusual. She wanted me to sit beside her in the booth rather than across from her as I usually do. I was glad to do that but concerned about her insecurity. We had a nice meal. By the time we were finished, she seemed fine. We went to the concert, and she got along fine. It was a “concert and conversation” with Peter Buffet, Warren’s son. Apart from being a musician, he and his sister work run the foundation established by his father. He spends most of his time doing philanthropic work, hence the reason he was here for United Way. I was amazed that Kate followed at least some of the things. I could tell by her reactions to what he said. She wouldn’t have gotten the details, but she understood isolated remarks. Afterwards, she said, “You’re gonna have to explain this to me.”

As we left the concert for our car, she asked where we were. I told her we were at the museum. She wanted to know the city. I told her it was Knoxville. In the car, she said, “Are we in New York?” I told her we were in Knoxville. She repeated variations of this question all the way home.

At home, she spoke quietly as though others were here. I told her we were the only ones here. She said, “Are you sure?” She was still confused about where she was, but she was happy when she went to bed.