Kate got off to a rough start today, and I feel that I may have played a part in creating the problem. This is a day when I felt I didn’t need to rush her to get ready. I turned on some relaxing music to wake her gently. After thirty minutes, I decided it was time to get her up. I did something I don’t usually do. I turned off the video cam and went to the bedroom. She was sleeping very soundly, so I decided to let her sleep a little longer.
About ten minutes later while I was in the kitchen, I heard her make a noise. I heard her again as I walked to her. (I would have heard her get up if I hadn’t turned off the video cam.) I could tell she wasn’t in the bedroom and said, “Where are you?” She said, “Right here.” She was in the hallway walking toward our bedroom. She had gotten up but didn’t know where she was and must have wandered to one of our other bedrooms. She was frightened and said, “Help me. Help me.” I went into “comfort mode” and told her I could help her with anything she needed. She told me she didn’t know what to do and repeated “Help me.”
I took her to the bathroom and then back to our bedroom where I had laid out her clothes a little earlier. She continued to be frightened and repeated her plea for help numerous times. There were moments when she seemed to calm down. One of those occurred when I showed her a photo of her mother in the hallway outside our bedroom, another as we walked through the family room. When we reached the kitchen, I gave her her morning meds. She didn’t know what to do with them. I explained and coached her step by step.
She was very unsure of herself as we went to the car. As you would expect, I put on some music that I thought she would like. I think she did, but she was very quiet all the way to the restaurant. I remained silent thinking that the music would do a better job calming her than I could.
She was very confused at the restaurant, at least until she had eaten most of her meal. I worked hard to show her the salmon on her plate. She couldn’t distinguish the salmon from the sweet potato fries. I gave up and used her fork to pick up a piece and fed it to her. After a couple of forksful, she fed herself. She enjoyed her meal. She even ate about half of the mixed vegetables. She rarely eats any of them. She was calm until it came time to get up from the booth and walk to the car. She was very insecure, actually frightened, and held on to me tightly.
We returned home about 2:00, and Kate rested in her recliner. She was in and out of sleep. At one point, she opened her eyes and lifted her arms toward the ceiling. It appeared that she was looking at something or someone. She smiled. Then she closed her eyes again. Moments later she opened them and looked uneasy. I got up, walked to her and held her hand. I said, “You looked frightened? Are you?” She nodded. I asked if she could tell me what was frightening her. She didn’t know. I told her I was here with her and would help her with anything she needed. She didn’t say anything but squeezed my hand, and I took a seat in the chair beside her.
She woke up a little while later. I asked if she was relaxed. She said she didn’t know. I asked if she was frightened. She didn’t know. Then I asked if she would like for me to read to her. She wasn’t sure about that either. I told her I would like to read something to her and picked up The Velveteen Rabbit and started reading. As I read, she kept saying “Huh” as I read something new. The more I read, the less she did this, but she never completely stopped. And I never stopped reading, I wasn’t entirely sure that she was enjoying what I was reading, but she didn’t show any sign of going back to sleep. Several times she responded appropriately to parts that were sad.
When I finished, I said, “Isn’t that a nice story?” She nodded. Then I asked if she was glad that I had read it. She smiled and said she did. It was clear that her mood had turned around. She became more animated as she looked out at the back yard where the wind was blowing through the trees and shrubbery. She kept pointing to things that she wanted me to see. As we looked through the sky lights, I commented on how fast the clouds were moving, and we watched as they drifted by from West to East. We must have watched and talked about what we were seeing for fifteen minutes before she took note of the poinsettias in the room. She was quite cheerful.
Then I went picked up a photo of her and her brother when they were about four and two and showed to her. I was pleased when she said, “That’s my brother.” She commented on his smile and then looked at her picture and said, “That’ me.”
I had put on a Chris Botti album a little earlier. The last song on the album is “What a Wonderful World.” It caught her attention, and we talked about the song and how much we liked it. She was again at ease. Reading, admiring the trees and shrubs, photos, and the music turned out to be the highlight of our day.
She was fine until we got ready to leave for dinner. Once again, she seemed afraid. She was distracted by her meal. It was a big serving, and she ate almost everything and seemed fine as we left for home.
At home, she worked puzzles for a few minutes before wanting to get ready for bed. That took a little more time than usual. She required more help from me. After she was in bed, I turned on a series of YouTube videos of Andre Rieu. She is lying down in bed listening to the music and seems content. I think the chances are good that we’ll be back to “normal” tomorrow, but one never knows.
