I often talk about our having “good days,” but what is becoming more common is a mixture of problem-solving and moments of pleasure. That is what it has been like the past few days.
Kate was up early on Monday and in a good mood but confused. She wanted to take a shower. Afterwards, I started to help her get dressed, but she wanted to get back in bed before we finished. We had plenty of time before the sitter was scheduled to arrive at noon. I let her rest until an hour before then; however, she didn’t want to get up. It was not a repeat of Friday when she refused. She seemed tired, not depressed. I even asked if she were depressed. She said she wasn’t, and the way she spoke and smiled suggested she was telling the truth. I was able to encourage her, and she got up.
When Cindy arrived, Kate greeted her warmly with a big smile. I mentioned that Cindy was going to take her lunch. She wanted me to go to lunch with them. When I told her I was going to the Y and to a meeting after that, she frowned. It didn’t look as though she was seriously concerned but preferred that I be with her.
She was resting on the sofa when I returned. That is typical. After Cindy left, Kate and I sat together on the sofa while I read from a photo book of her mother’s family. She really enjoyed it. We went through part of the book for about forty-five minutes and then went to dinner.
After we returned home, she started to work on her iPad. Then she decided to get ready for bed. I turned on the news, and she appeared to watch with me for most of the hour before calling it a night.
Later as I was getting ready to shower, I noticed that she was awake. I walked over to the bed. She looked worried. I asked if she was all right. She said she was, but she wasn’t very convincing. I said, “It looks like you’re worried. Are You?” She hesitated and then said, “I’m all right. You keep going.” I said, “I will always be with you.” She smiled. I said, “We’ll do this together.” I don’t know exactly what was on her mind. I know it was concern about her condition. Neither of us addressed that directly, but I feel that we were communicating our mutual understanding indirectly. This was a sad moment.
Tuesday was a good day, but we did have an unusual experience at dinner. I believe I have mentioned that Kate sometimes sees little spots on the table that she refers to as “Little Things.” She often refers to them with the pronoun “he” and sometimes comments on their moving. This was one of those times. It usually seems like a harmless form of amusement. It was a little different that night. She saw more of them and thought they were harmful in some way. She thought they were in her meal of which she ate very little. She didn’t want to have dessert thinking they might be in it as well. She just wanted to go home. She was fine after we left.
I have been sleeping very well lately, but yesterday morning I awoke at 3:30 and couldn’t go back to sleep. I got up again at 4:15 and took a twenty-minute walk in the house. I got back in bed but still couldn’t sleep. At 5:45, I decided to get up for the day. I hadn’t been in the bathroom more than a couple of minutes before I heard Kate say, “Hey.” I went over to the bed and asked if I could help her. She said, “I don’t know.” She looked frightened, and I said, “You look scared. Are you?” She said she was. I got back in bed with her. She said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
I tried to comfort her for the next ten minutes or so. She seemed to be more relaxed, and I told her I might get up and get dressed. She wanted me to stay and asked if she was supposed to do something today. She said, “Do I need to get the eggs?” I’m not sure whether she really meant eggs or she just used the wrong word as she sometimes does. I told her she wasn’t responsible for anything “today,” that she could just relax and do whatever she and I wanted to do.
I put on some relaxing music and played it very softly as we talked. I spoke to her slowly and softly and comforted her. Off and on she responded to something I said with “I remember you said that last time.” I don’t ever recall her saying that before. At one point, I told her I loved her. She said she loved me too and was glad I was with her. Then she very naturally asked, “Who are you?” Two or three times she began to shake and said, “I’m scared.” Gradually she calmed down and was almost asleep at 7:00 when I again mentioned getting up to dress and have breakfast. She said that was fine.
About 8:45, I heard her call me again. She had gotten out of bed and wanted to go to the bathroom. She asked where she was and said she wanted to “get out of here.” I told her I would help her. It was also a time when she did not remember me. She let me help in the bathroom and dressing, but she was very unsure about me.
As we walked to the kitchen for her morning meds, she said, “I just want to lie down.” I took her over to her recliner. She sat down, and I put it in its fully reclined position. She forgot all about leaving and rested another forty-five minutes before she opened her eyes and looked over at me. She smiled. I’m not sure if she remembered my name or our relationship, but she was quite at ease with me. Then closed her eyes and continued resting.
I got her up in time for us to have lunch together before the sitter arrived. After lunch, she rested on the sofa. Mary arrived shortly after that, and I left. Kate was very comfortable about that. The two of them were chatting as I walked out the door.
I was surprised to see Kate sitting on the sofa looking at one of her photo books when I returned. Typically, she would be resting. She said she was glad to see me though she didn’t look at all disturbed that I had been gone. I walked Mary to the door, and she told me that Kate had asked where I was a number of times but didn’t seem unduly concerned.
I sat down to go through the photo book with her. She wanted me to identify the various people in the photos, but she quickly found that overwhelming. I suggested we take a break and go to dinner. She wanted to go to the bathroom, and I took her.
When she was finished, she was very disturbed about people we would see somewhere, apparently in her hometown in Texas. I told her it would be a long time before we made a trip to Texas. That didn’t help. She said she couldn’t help thinking about how her mother was feeling. On the way to the restaurant, she continued to worry about these people and how she should react to them. I assured her I would be with her and would try to see that everything went smoothly. She appreciated that, but it didn’t relieve her pain.
Once we were seated at our table, she continued to talk about these people. I never figured out what it was that she was afraid would happen, only that she was very disturbed. At one point, she started crying at the table. She recovered quickly, but it wasn’t until the food arrived that her attention was diverted, and she never mentioned anything else about it.
Before we left, we had an experience that was similar to the one we had the night before. When our server brought the check, Kate pointed to the table top and asked if the server could see “them.” She didn’t. Kate pressed her finger on the table and held it up to the server and said, “See?” The server played the game well. She pretended to pick “it” up from her finger and said, “Now, I’ve got it.”
The day ended well. We watched a couple of YouTube videos about the story and filming of The Sound of Music. I know she couldn’t follow it, but she was quite interested. As usual, she was awake when I got in bed. That is the most predictable moment of the entire day. She almost always seems at ease and glad that I have joined her. We usually talk briefly, express our love for each other, and say good night. I was glad to end the day on a positive note. We are certainly having more days that call for greater problem solving.
