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Anxiety Attack Is Over

As in the past, Kate’s anxiety attack didn’t last long. It was over before she went back to sleep. When she awoke, she was just fine. We enjoyed ourselves at lunch. I didn’t ask if he knew my name, but I believe she probably did and that I am her husband.

This is our day for a sitter. When I left, she and Mary were seated on the sofa looking at a photo album of Kate’s father’s family. The only thing Kate said when I said goodbye was “What are we going to do?” I told her she could look at photo albums, work jigsaw puzzles, watch DVDs or YouTube video, or go to Panera. That satisfied her. She was just fine. In fact, she has reacted very positively to her sitters the past two weeks. I love it.

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Another Anxiety Attack

In the past I’ve suggested that it is hard to predict exactly what lies ahead in our future. That is true for everyone, but it seems to be especially noticeable in the lives of people living with Alzheimer’s. It certainly is for us. I was reminded of that around 6:30 this morning. I had just gotten up and entered our bathroom when I heard Kate say, “Hey.” I opened the bathroom door and saw that she was sitting up in bed looking at me. She looked as if something were wrong. I asked if she were all right. She said, “I don’t know. I want to go to the bathroom.” She was shaking and uneasy on her feet. She held my hand most of the way to the bathroom before she felt secure enough to let go. On the way, she asked, “Where are we?” I told her we were at our own home in Knoxville.

When she got up from the toilet, she wanted to brush her teeth. As she walked to the sink, she said, “I’m not myself.” She repeated that several times over the next few minutes. She finished brushing and said, “I’ll be glad when this is all over.” I’ve heard her say this several times in the past and don’t know what she means. I’ve asked before though not this time. She always says, “You know.” Over the next few minutes she said, “I’m not myself. I don’t know what’s going on with me.” I can’t remember what it was, but she said something else that was a clear recognition that something is wrong with her.

I took the approach of comforting her without any attempted explanations. When she said, “I’m not myself,” I said, “I can tell that, but I want you to know that I am here to help you. I will always be with you.” We walked back to the bed. I helped her in. I told her I would stay in bed with her. She said, “Oh, good.”

For the next forty-five minutes, we lay in bed facing each other. She wanted to hold my hand. We spoke very little. She asked my name one time. I said, “Richard. Richard Creighton, and I am your husband. You are Kate Creighton, my wife of almost fifty-six years.” She looked puzzled but didn’t say anything. In a while, she said she was feeling better. When I could tell that she was asleep, I got up. She is still sleeping as I finish this post.

These attacks and milder experiences of knowing something is wrong remind me of my mother who had dementia. I remember so well her saying, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t remember anything.” I also recall times when I’ve heard people say, “At least, she doesn’t know.” I’ve realized all along that people with dementia often know that something is wrong even if they don’t know what it is. And it bothers them. What I didn’t expect was that Kate would have these experiences so late in her journey. At this point, I doubt that she has a concept of Alzheimer’s or dementia, but she is able to tell that “I’m not myself.” Those are the moments that are hardest for her. They are for me as well.

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Still Having Fun

A little while ago, I posted a picture on Facebook. It was of Kate and me taken at lunch on Sunday with a rather large piece of chocolate cake in front of us. A friend asked if it was a special occasion. I replied that we make every day a special occasion. I really meant it as a playful response, but we really do make everyday situations special. In the middle of all Kate’s changes, we continue to have fun.

At the moment, I am thinking of experiences we had at lunch time today.
As we walked along the restaurant’s outside patio, I heard a song that was popular in the 60s and asked Kate if she would like to dance. She said, “No, but you can.” I took her up on it and started dancing while she watched. The song ended, and she applauded. We both laughed and opened the door. That’s when we saw several servers who had been watching us through the window. I felt a little silly, but they seemed to get a kick out of this old couple having a good time.

We had another moment of laughter when Kate asked the name of the restaurant. I said, “Tony’s Kitchen.” She tried to repeat it and said, “Tony’s Chicken.” That led to a few minutes during which I attempted to teach her that it was “Kitchen” not “Chicken.” I was never successful, but we both enjoyed a good laugh.

It’s spring, and Kate loves the azaleas. It is impossible for her to remember what they are called. She refers to them as “those pink flowers.” She has always enjoyed “the green” of trees, shrubs, and vines. The new growth of leaves on the trees has added to her pleasure. The beauty of spring makes even a routine drive to and from a restaurant special.

Moments like these are good for both of us. They help us maintain a positive outlook while “Living with Alzheimer’s.”

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Our Weekend Trip to Nashville

Kate and I don’t travel much any more, but we did make an overnight trip to Nashville this past weekend. I have pretty much ruled out trips of anything more than a couple of days, so I’m glad to say that this one went well. We had a nice dinner at McCormick and Schmick’s after leaving the Davises. Kate turned in early while I watched the Texas Tech/Michigan State game.

When Kate woke up Sunday morning, she looked over at me at the desk where I was working on my laptop. I got up from my chair and walked toward her. She said, “Richard?” I said, “Yes, did you think I was someone else?” She said, “I was hoping it was you.” I said, “That must have been scary if you thought I might be someone else.” She said, “Not really scary, but . . .” She couldn’t think of the words to say what it was like, but she was definitely relieved to know it was me. This is just one more occasion when I try to imagine what it is like to wake up and not have any idea of where you are. Even though this happens to her at home, I feel sure there is a certain amount of comfort in being in “familiar” surroundings. Being in a hotel doesn’t offer that.

From there we went to brunch at Maggiano’s. When we checked in at the hostess stand, the managing partner was standing there. I don’t know what he said, but he and Kate got into a brief exchange in which each was kidding the other. I had a difficult time getting her away to follow the hostess to our table. It was one of those times that I pulled out one of my Alzheimer’s cards. Shortly after we were seated, the manager came to our table and thanked me. He said he had an aunt with dementia, and something Kate had said made him think she might as well.

Kate had brought a TCU magazine with her. He noticed that and said that he had worked in several restaurants in Texas. He and Kate connected once again. She enjoyed hearing him talk about her home state, especially since he had enjoyed his time there. Our server was very helpful with the menus that included both brunch and regular menu items. She was also very attentive. We were off to a good start. About mid-way through our meal, an assistant manager dropped by to check on us. We had a good conversation with her. When she left, she dropped a card for a free dessert. We took advantage of the offer and had an enormous piece of flowerless chocolate cake.

After eating, we were off to Ellen’s memory care facility. We had another good visit with her. We chatted for about an hour before turning to YouTube for music. This time we viewed segments from several Andre Rieu concerts. Once again, music played an important role in our visit. That is becoming more important as her ability to talk continues to decline though not too much since last time.

It was a successful trip. I will consider making Nashville an overnight trip in the future – at least as long as it works for Kate. Seeing friends in the afternoon, having a nice dinner that night, brunching at Maggiano’s, and visiting Ellen makes for a nice weekend.

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A Taste of This Morning’s Conversation

At almost 9:00 this morning, I saw that Kate was getting out of bed. I went to her and asked what I could do for her. She asked me to get her clothes. I asked if she wanted to take a shower first. She did, and we walked to the bathroom. As I started to get the shower ready for her, she took off her night gown, and we had the following conversation.

Kate:              “What is your name?”

Richard:        “Richard.”

Kate:              “What’s your full name?”

Richard:        “Richard Lee Creighton.”

Kate:              “What’s my name?”

Richard:        “Katherine Franklin Creighton.”

Kate:              “That sounds right. And who are you?”

Richard:        “I’m your husband.”

Kate:              “Noooo.”

Richard:        “Let’s talk about that later. Why don’t you take your shower now.”

Kate:              (Getting into the shower) “Who are you?”

Richard:        “Do you think I’m a friendly guy?”

Kate:              “Yes.”

Richard:        “I’m your husband.”

Kate:              (Puzzled look) “Okay. <pause> What’s your name?”

Richard:        “Richard Lee Creighton.”

Kate:              “What should I call you?”

Richard:        “Richard.”

After her shower, she went back to bed for about forty-five minutes. Then she got up to dress. She didn’t ask my name or who I am. She acted as though she knew. I wanted to ask but didn’t. I think she knew.

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A Nice Visit with Longtime Friends

Several of our longtime friends live in Nashville, and we have visited all of them periodically for many years. During the past six to eight months, we haven’t done as well. We have continued to see our friend Ellen who is in memory care there, but I have not been good about arranging visits with the others. I miss seeing them and need to make a serious effort to see them more during the rest of the year.

As a first start, I arranged for us to see Ann and Jeff Davis in connection with our regular visit to see Ellen. Because Kate has often slept so late, we have been getting to Nashville late in the day to see her. That puts us back in Knoxville later than I like. This time I decided to visit the Davises in the afternoon and stay overnight at a hotel. That way Kate can sleep late, and we will be able to see her earlier. So far that is working well.

Even though she can’t remember, I always tell Kate where we are going and who we will see. I did that the day before we left, the morning we left, and even in the car on the way. When we parked at their house, I said, “This is the Ann and Jeff Davis’s new house. She said, “Who are they again?” I explained a little about our history together and told her that she and Ann had been very close when they lived in Knoxville. She surprised me when she said, “She and I used to talk a lot about our daughters.” That was the first time in recent memory that I can remember her recalling something like that. She didn’t say anything more specific, but I remember they talked about their daughters who are the same age and attended the same schools during middle school and high school.

In advance of our visit, Ann and I had several email communications. She had asked advice about engaging in conversation with Kate. I gave her a few suggestions and explained how well she has been able to get along and that I expected it would be the same on this visit. We got off to a good start when Kate noticed the flowers planted around their house. Ann and Jeff had seen us coming up the walk and came out to greet us. Ann and Kate had a few minutes to connect as they talked about the flowers and trees at the back of the house.

As we walked inside, we took a tour of their new home. It wasn’t planned at all, but we divided up so that Ann took Kate and Jeff took me. I think that made for a good beginning. I believe that gave Kate a chance to reconnect with Ann before the four of us sat down to visit. Kate took great interest in their home. For the next two hours we sat on their sun porch and talked.

Some of the conversation was between Ann and Kate and some between Jeff and me. For the most part, however, it was the four of us. Kate was not especially talkative, but she was comfortable and participated without any problem. As in other conversations, Kate said things that are not correct. For example, Ann asked if we used our pool very much. Kate told her that she used it more than I. The truth is that neither of us has used in much in recent years and that I am the one who occasionally takes a swim. In fact, I have recently suggested that we use it more this summer. Each time I’ve mentioned it, she has balked. I don’t mean to suggest that Kate wasn’t telling the truth. She just can’t remember. In conversation, her imagination takes over.

We could have talked much longer, but I felt it was time for us to check into our hotel and have dinner. As soon as we closed the doors to our car, Kate said, “I like them.” Once again, I thought about Kate’s intuitive abilities. Kate and Ann had been very close friends. Kate can’t remember that, at least not very well, but her feelings for Ann were rekindled just by being together. I don’t think it relates to something special that Ann said to her. I think there was something Kate was able to pick up intuitively that made the difference. Once again, I am struck by the power of her intuitive thought. It has carried us a long way.

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Some Things Work. Some Don’t

I’ve often thought that a large part of caregiving is either preventing or solving problems. I haven’t tried to keep a tally of my victories and losses, but we seem to have gotten along reasonably well. Of course, one of the reasons is that I keep discovering things that Kate can’t do. That’s when I grasp that I am the one who has to change and adapt to what she is able to do.

In yesterday’s post, I mentioned that I had taken photos of the primary screens that she faces when working her jigsaw puzzles. I thought that was a pretty clever idea. When I shot each photo, I put my index finger on or up against the button or place she needs to touch in order to pull up the next screen. How could I go wrong?

It’s not really hard at all, to go wrong that is. All you have to do is think like someone who doesn’t have Alzheimer’s (that would be me) instead of one who does. Kate couldn’t connect my photos with what she was seeing on her iPad even though they were almost identical except for my finger in the photos. I worked slowly with her for about fifteen minutes before I could see that what I was doing was causing her more frustration than the problem I was trying to solve. It is actually much simpler for her to ask me what she should do next than to translate my pictures and do it herself. When I stopped to think about it, her system was working for her all along. I was really addressing my problem of having to get up from my chair to help her.

Her most critical problem seems to be her eyesight. That’s true whether she is looking at the screen on the iPad or my photo of the screen. That relates to her Alzheimer’s and not to the physical properties of her eyes. As well as I can understand it, her problem is knowing where to focus her attention. She is faced with an array of stimuli and is confused about which one(s) to attend to. She does, however, choose the correct ones most of the time. I’m guessing that because there are times when she goes for a good while without asking for help. Other times I see that she has chosen the correct one. I don’t know how to explain that. It’s as though she knows one minute and forgets in another.

One of the most frequent problems she encounters occurs when she touches a button for the store located in the upper right-hand corner of the screen. When she does that, she is presented with a large collection of puzzle packs for purchase. When she touches a puzzle pack, she gets a screen asking for the password. Then she is stuck because she doesn’t know it. That is a time for help. The button for the store is small enough that I am surprised that she sees it. She often can’t see the button that says “Play” that scatters the pieces so that she can reassemble the puzzle. It is about three times the size of the button for the store. I think there are so many pictures of other colorful puzzles behind the “Play” button it is too difficult for her to see the green button she should touch. I think I will continue showing her what to do each time she runs into a problem. In time, that may help her learn to touch the correc button more often than she is currently doing, but, perhaps, it won’t. She depends so heavily on her puzzles for entertainment I will do everything I can to help her continue with this pastime.

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Changes in the Wind

Over the past week I have been glad to report that we have had so many good moments. After a confusing start (the second day in a row), the string of good days continued through yesterday. Despite these good days, I am also noticing increasing signs of decline. Kate’s dependence on me is even greater now than before. She seems uneasy when I am not immediately in sight. Sometimes this happens in the house as it did last night after returning home from dinner. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth while I went to another room. When she came out and didn’t see me, she called my name. (Yes, my name. Although she often can’t remember it. Often she is able to remember it when she needs me. If she can’t, she just says, “Hey.”) When I got to her she gave a sigh of relief and said, “I’m glad to see you.” This kind of experience happens more often outside the home. At Casa Bella the other night, I was walking ahead of her when she stopped to speak to someone. When she turned around, she didn’t see me. I heard her say, “Where’s my husband?” I turned around and walked toward her. She was very relieved when she saw me.

She doesn’t remember the layout of our house or the names of the different rooms, but she can find her way by trial and error. She prefers that I tell her or lead her where she wants to go. That is almost always the bathroom. When we return home after lunch, she often asks me where she should be, not just the room but the place to sit as well.

Another sign of her dependence is her comments on feeling safe with me. A few nights ago, I brought her nightgown to her and started to go to another room. She asked me to stay. She said, “I’ll feel better if you are with me.” We stood in the hallway while she undressed and put on her gown. Then we walked back to the bedroom. I don’t understand why she felt she needed me. My best guess is that she wanted to make sure she put her gown on the way it is supposed to go. She has had problem for quite a while getting into it so that it is not backwards. She is now confusing the sleeves with the opening for her head. I am usually with her when she does this. She must have felt uneasy because I was going to leave it in her hands. At any rate, she is feeling more insecure when left on her own.

This past Sunday as we walked from the car to the restaurant, she said, “I feel better when I am with you.” She was holding my hand and added, “I don’t know how to say it, but I feel “safe” with you.” She frequently uses the word “safe” when she talks about being with me.

She also asks to hold my hand more often than in the past. For a long time, she has only wanted to do that in especially challenging situations. She often says, “I didn’t have to have it, but it is nicer.” She is in an “in between” stage right now. Sometimes she wants my hand; other times she doesn’t. She almost always wants me to hold her hand when stepping off a curb and crossing the street. This is similar to other behavior when she sometimes wants help dressing but not others.

I’ve been reporting for some time that she has difficulty with her puzzles. In the past week or so it has become even harder for her. Part of that is her eye sight. She can’t easily spot the places she needs to touch in order to leave a puzzle she has just completed or to select a new puzzle.

Over the weekend, we had unfortunate problem with the iPad. It has been operating much slower in the past few weeks. It came to a virtual halt on Saturday because the storage was completely full. I deleted a number of apps. She really didn’t need them since the only one she uses is for her jigsaw puzzles. That didn’t solve the problem. I ended up deleting the puzzle app and reinstalling it. That solved the problem but created another.

She is now using a newer version which means that the size and location of the different buttons are different than the version she had been using. Not only that, but I’ve been unable to locate the old puzzles in her library. Kate hasn’t noticed that, but she is having more trouble going from the puzzle she has just finished to the next one. The size of the “buttons” she has to push are much smaller which adds additional problems.

I’ve taken pictures of each of the pages where she needs to tap the right button. I have enlarged them and put them on 8 1/2 x 11 paper. I included my finger in each picture to show her where to tap. I am going to use a colored marker to make arrows that also point to the right spot. I should have that finished today.

Altogether these things have caused her to ask for my help much more than in the past. I’ve been helping a long time, but the frequency with which she asks for help has increased geometrically. Each time she needs help, I get up from my chair and walk over to her. It now occurs so frequently that I have only been seated a few minutes before she is calling again. That is because she needs help after completing each puzzle. It is almost comical. I have spoken with both sitters to make sure they understand the problems she is having and help her while I am gone.

Let me close on a higher note. Last night was opera night at Casa Bella. She and I had a wonderful time. We had not heard either of the two singers, and they were outstanding as were the pieces they sang. Most of the arias were ones we had not heard, but they were great on a first listen. We ended the day happily once again.

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Good News

My optimism paid off. When Kate finally got up, she appeared to recognize me. Last week, I received a shipment of new clothes I had ordered for Kate online. I selected something for her that looked very nice. That made me think about going to lunch at Andriana’s since we are planning to be in Nashville on Sunday. When I checked with our server to see if she was working at lunch, she wasn’t. I decided to try another restaurant that is nearby, Sunset Café. Like Andriana’s it is a cut above the average places we eat, and we don’t eat there often.

On the way, I played an album of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons hits. Kate and I laughed about most of them. They are so dated now, but we still enjoyed them. We also had a good lunch. We are now back home where Kate is now resting on the sofa across from me. That is her customary pattern now. She has a hair appointment in thirty minutes. After that we’ll have another break before going to Casa Bella for opera night. That’s sure to be another hit. After a rough start, it looks like we will have yet another good day.

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A Confusing Start

About 8:15 this morning, I saw on the video cam that Kate was still in bed but awake and looking around the room. I went to the bedroom and sat down on the bed. She looked puzzled. I said, “It looks like you’re confused.” She nodded in agreement. Then she said, “Who are you?” I said, “Do I look like someone who is friendly?” She said. “Yes.” Then I told her my name. She asked her name. I said, “Kate Creighton and you’re very special to me.” She looked surprised and said, “Who are you?” I told her that I was her husband. This was one of those times when she couldn’t quite fathom that. I recited some of the things that have helped her in the past – our meeting at TCU, our courtship, our marriage, information about her parents. None of this meant anything to her. I finally got out the “Big Sister” photo album. As always, she liked the photo of her and her brother on the cover, but she didn’t recognize who they were. She asked who the boy was. When I told her that was Ken, her brother, I pointed to her picture and asked who that was. She said, “Me.” She looked at a few other pictures and didn’t recognize anyone. She said she was tired and wanted to rest.

I asked if she would like me to sit in the room with her. She said, “Oh, yes.” I took that as a good sign. Even if she didn’t know my name or that I was her husband, she seemed to feel more secure if I stayed with her.

About forty-five minutes later, I got up to get something from the kitchen. I saw that her eyes were open and said hello. She smiled and gave me a little chuckle. I told her I was glad to see her. She smiled again. I can’t be sure, but I think she recognized me. Then she dozed off again. I’m going to be optimistic that she’ll be fine when she wakes up.