Follow-up on Kate’s Sleeping

When I posted my previous update concerning Kate’s sleeping, it was 9:30. She was still asleep. I didn’t make any effort to get her up before 11:00. She was awake and pleased to see me. Her response was strange in that she started to cry. I asked if she could tell me why. She couldn’t, but she was able to tell me she was happy. That made me wonder if she had been awake for a while and didn’t know where I was or what to do.

She wasn’t eager to get up, but she did so willingly. She was very unsteady on her feet and very confused. We got a takeout lunch that we brought back to the house. Her confusion continued while we were eating. She couldn’t identify her hamburger patty, the bun, or the fries. She ate a good bit of the bun, but I think she would have left the patty if I hadn’t put pieces on her fork and fed them to her. The surprise to me (a pleasant one) was that she ate hardly any fries.

When we finished, we spent about thirty minutes looking at one of her family photo books. Then I turned on Phantom of the Opera on YouTube. I was doubtful that she would be interested since it wasn’t just a concert of the music but the full stage production. I was right. I turned it off after fifteen minutes.

She was tired and rested on the sofa for an hour before sitting up. She was confused and said, “Where am I?” I told her she was at home. She said she wanted to “get outa here.” I told her I would take her but wanted to show her a couple of things first. I took her into the hallway to see her pictures of her Grandmother, mother, and her father. She didn’t express her usual interest. She kept saying she wanted to go.

I took her by the hand and walked toward the garage where I intended take a short drive in the car and return home. Before getting to the garage, she changed her mind and wanted to stay. We went back to the family room. She said she was hungry. I got her some blueberries and cheese for a snack. She ate them and has been resting for about forty-five minutes. It is 5:15. We have plenty of lasagna left over from last night. I think I’ll serve that instead of bringing something in. We’ll both enjoy it.

Our First Virtual Doctor’s Appointment

The last several times Kate has been to the dermatologist have been unpleasant for her. The visits were not routine. She had a squamous cell carcinoma on her forehead. The first visit she had a biopsy. She reacted strongly to the local anesthetic and to the scraping itself. It took at least fifteen minutes to calm her. Although she didn’t remember that on the two follow-up visits, she must have sensed this was not a place she wanted to visit. She didn’t undergo any pain either of those times, but she was uneasy and eager to get out.

These experiences were on my mind when I noticed a couple of other growths that could be a problem. One is very near her left eye just below her eyelash. The other is on her back. I planned to call before the doctor’s offices closed but didn’t. While I was walking in the neighborhood earlier this week, I bumped into her dermatologist who is a neighbor of ours. She asked how Kate was doing, and I told her about the spots. She asked if I would like to schedule a tele-visit appointment. I jumped at the opportunity, and we met her at our kitchen table via FaceTime on Friday. It was during that short interval that Kate was awake. I think it was the doctor’s appointment that enabled me to get Kate up for a brief time following our lunch and before she went back to sleep.

I know this type of meeting with a doctor could be less than ideal. This one was a perfect situation. It took no more than fifteen minutes during which I sent her pictures of the spots that concerned me. In one case, she wasn’t sure what spot I was talking about. She drew a circle around the area and send it back to me. I was able to confirm that she saw the area I meant. It was scar tissue left from the biopsy she had taken in the fall. It is practically invisible now. The other two spots were both benign. Kate has had a number of these in the past.

This episode reinforced my thinking that our current situation may serve to speed up the use of technology for purposes like ours. It was convenient. More importantly, it was non-threatening for Kate. It would have taken at least three times as long if we had driven to her office. If only there were a way for Kate to have her teeth cleaned and checked via a tele-visit with her dentist. That’s not in the cards; however, there must be many situations like ours for which this would be ideal.

More on Kate and Sleep/Rest

Three months ago Kate wouldn’t get up on a day when the sitter was coming. She was still in bed when I left and also when I arrived home. It was about 4:15 when she finally got up.  There have been at least two other times she has slept until late in the afternoon, once until after 5:00. There have been several other days when she has not wanted to get up but ultimately agreed to do so.

When I tried to get her up yesterday, she was resistant. Pushing her never works, so I decided to let her rest a little more. After several unsuccessful attempts, I decided to encourage her. I told her I wanted to have lunch with her and hoped she would get up. That didn’t work at first, but, with a little coaxing, it did.

It was running close to the time for the sitter’s arrival. I put in an online delivery order from Panera. Kate was quiet but enjoyed her lunch. We were still eating when Mary arrived. When we finished, I took Kate in the family room and showed her several of her photo books she might enjoy. Then I prepared for a conference call.

While I was on the call, Kate went to sleep on the sofa and was still resting when Mary left. I went to the sofa and sat beside her. She continued to rest. I told her it was pizza night and asked if she would like to go with me to pick it up. I didn’t get a response. I decided to let her rest a few more minutes.

In fifteen minutes, I tried again without success. She responded the same way she has done when sleeping in the bed in the morning. She was good-natured and said, “I’ll get up in a few minutes.” The problem is that she never does.

I decided to cook lasagna. No, I didn’t make it. I bought it earlier in the week at a takeout place that has usually has two or three frozen dishes they prepare for times like these. Before eating, I asked if she would like to join me. She didn’t, so I went ahead. I fixed a salad (spinach and arugula with blueberries, tomatoes, and slivered almonds) to go with the lasagna. It was an unusually good meal.

After eating, I told Kate is was time to get ready for bed. She didn’t want to move and asked if she could sleep right there on the sofa. I told her that she needed to get to the bathroom and put on her night clothes and then it would be easier to get in bed. I was surprised when she agreed. She was in bed shortly after 7:30 and quickly went to sleep. She was asleep when I got in bed and slept through the night. I expected her to get up early this morning, but she didn’t make a sound when I got up. She is still sleeping at 9:15.

So, what’s going on? As so often happens, I don’t know. I know that it was a year ago that her sleep pattern began to change. Over that time, it has been less predictable than it was before that time. She has clearly been more tired than she used to be. During the past three months that has increased, especially in the past 3-4 weeks. She is not on her feet much before she wants to rest. That often occurs when I give her a tour of the house. She enjoys herself but gets worn out and wants to sit down. As I have speculated before, this may be a natural process as her body begins to shut down. Her doctor seems to think that might be it. Whatever it is, I suspect the fact that she has resisted any exercise must have exacerbated the problem. The good news is that she has not seemed disturbed or frightened. I am eager to see what happens today.

Living in Kate’s World of Delusions

Kate has experienced delusions for several years, but they occur more frequently now, especially since we have been homebound. Prior to my experience with Kate, I was prone to think delusions were all bad. I am discovering that is not so. Most of Kate’s are benign. They are harmless, some puzzling, but most quite interesting and reflective of her personal values. A few have been disturbing. These have involved a belief that no one likes her, that she has done something she believes was wrong, or that she has some obligation for which she is not prepared. The most frequent delusions involve projects designed to help those who are underprivileged in some way. Often, they involve programs to educate women in third-world countries but also in the United States.

During the past 36 hours, she has had two separate but related delusions that led to unusual conversations. They were very one-sided with Kate playing the dominant role. In fact, soliloquy might be a better word than conversation. The first occurred Wednesday night when I got out of the shower. She began a conversation that lasted almost a full hour and a half during which I said very little. I played the role of facilitator by simply listening, expressing agreement, or asking questions that would lead her to say more.

The second conversation occurred yesterday morning at breakfast. Yes, I said, “Breakfast.” It was another time she had gotten up early before I had fixed my own breakfast. I took the opportunity for us to eat together, never expecting another lengthy conversation. This one was an hour.

Both of them were interesting and involved a school. In each case, she did not know my name and had not recognized me as her husband. That was true all day Wednesday and a large portion of the day yesterday. It was clear Wednesday night that she was talking to me as though I were a potential candidate to join their program. Unlike other similar delusions, she didn’t say much, if anything, about the students. Her focus was entirely on the underlying values of school for those who worked (volunteered?) there. It was a diverse workplace where everyone respected the talents and personalities of the others.

Like another conversation we had several weeks ago, she responded to me just the way she would have if she had known my name and our relationship. Like the previous one, she repeatedly referred  to her husband and used my name each time. She kept saying, “I wish Richard were here. He could give you a better idea (tell you more, etc.).” While she didn’t say much about the students, it was another example of a program designed to provide education to people who might not otherwise have gotten it.

The length and complexity of her conversation was a striking contrast with most of her delusions. She talked non-stop, though in a relaxed style, for a full hour and a half that night. Several times I suggested that we continue the conversation the next morning. She agreed the last time when I mentioned wanting to think about it and talk in the morning.

I never imagined that she would start a similar conversation the next morning, but that’s what happened as we sat down for breakfast. I was never sure that it was an extension of the previous night’s conversation, but it was strangely similar in length and complexity. She also periodically mentioned her husband (me) by name. This time it wasn’t clear if I was a candidate for a position. It sounded more like I was someone who had expressed an interest in what she was doing.

Conversations like these are rooted in delusions brought about by Alzheimer’s; however, they also involve powerful expressions of Kate’s feelings and values. I find that comforting. It reminds me that the real Kate is still here.

Awareness of Vocabulary Loss

On many occasions I have mentioned Kate’s awareness that something is wrong with her. That is most evident when she is disturbed over not being able to recognize her surroundings or know who she is. I have also mentioned that her vocabulary is shrinking. Many everyday words are rapidly disappearing.

Until this past Monday, I hadn’t noticed any sign that she recognizes the latter change. We were in the bathroom brushing her teeth when I used a word that she didn’t understand. I don’t recall what it was, but it was something ordinary. I didn’t think much about until she said, “I like the way you talk.” I told her I thought I talked the way she does. She told me that I know more words than she does. She said it matter of factly without any sadness or great concern. I feel good about that, but it was a reminder of how much self-awareness she retains. She has far more insight about herself and others than I give her credit for. That awareness may well account for those moments when she seems depressed but can’t explain what’s wrong.

Kate is Like a Child.

I suppose everyone has experienced and been delighted by the innocence of children. As a youth and during most of my adult life, I didn’t give much attention to children except for our own and those of family and friends. As I aged, I developed a greater appreciation of the gifts they bring us. They haven’t developed the sensitivity adults have about “proper” behavior. They behave and speak as if it only matters to them and no one else. They express what they feel so naturally.

Kate has always been interested in children. The nineteen years she served as our church’s volunteer librarian were especially fulfilling for her. Much of her work involved children either directly or indirectly. She would have kept her responsibilities as librarian had it not been for her Alzheimer’s. She realized before her diagnosis that she was no longer able to fulfill her position the way she thought she should and resigned.

During the past nine years, her interest in children has become a fascination for her. She enjoys watching them wherever we go and often speaks to them and compliments the parents for having such beautiful children. That has further increased my own appreciation of them.

That leads me to think about Kate. For the past three or four years, she has been somewhat more childlike herself. Increasingly, she behaves with me much like a child with her parent. That is expressed in several different ways.

The most typical example is her wanting to show me little things she has done. She seems proud of herself for what she is doing and wants my recognition. She likes me to watch as she pulls strands of her hair and runs her fingers between each of her toes to get “them” out. She asks me to look at her as she picks her teeth with her fingernails thinking there is something is stuck between them. She is sensitive about her skin and daily runs her fingers across the skin of her arms and legs and shows me her hand and says, “See them.” I try to pay attention and reinforce her belief that she is doing something good.

Above all, her most childlike qualities involve her expressions of enthusiasm for things she enjoys. Her pleasure over the beauty of flowers, trees, shrubs and house plants is the best example. The arrival of spring has brought daily moments of pleasure. She loves to share her enthusiasm with me and sometimes says, “Look at the pink (green, yellow.) “Do you see it?” I translate her question as “Won’t you share this beautifuI moment with me.” I never tire of seeing how excited she is almost every time she walks in our family room. That is particularly true when she sees the two small pots of African Violets. She also takes time to admire the four Poinsettias that have survived the winter. Occasionally, she sees the hydrangeas at the far end of the room and walks over to get a closer look. If she turns around after admiring them, she sometimes is surprised to see the Poinsettias again. I don’t ever recall seeing any sign that she is aware of having previously seen them or any of the other plants prior to that moment.

The newest source of pleasure involves her food. This has only occurred since being homebound. It seems surprising because the meals I prepare are very simple and most of our takeout meals aren’t the same caliber of those we have eaten at the restaurants. She rarely leaves anything on her plate. The exception would be the skin of apples and tomatoes as well as the crust of her bread.

She always wants to share her pleasure with me. It never dawns on her that her entrée and mine are almost always the same. Even when I tell her, she often says, “Try it. You’ll like it.” and passes her fork with a sample for me to taste.

It’s not just that she likes the food. She is animated and talks about it during a large portion of our meal. She liked her meals when we were eating out, but it was usually a special dessert that she talked about most. I never thought she was at all inhibited in a restaurant, but, perhaps, she feels even freer to talk when it is just the two of us at home.

Another possibility is that it is simply a side effect of her Alzheimer’s. She has forgotten most of the foods we eat. For a while, that was limited to a few things like pizza and pepperoni. Dr. Pepper has always been her favorite drink, and she wouldn’t drink the diet version. Now I only buy diet. It doesn’t make any difference even when she is looking at the bottle from which it was poured. She has also almost forgotten the name Dr. Pepper except to recognize it when I offer it to her. She raves about how good it is with almost every sip and then asks, “What is this?” We go through this multiple times during a meal. I suspect that is happening with all the other items on the table. As far as she knows, what she eats and drinks is always new and always good.

Some of you may be thinking, “How sad that she no longer recognizes the names of her favorite things.” You would be right. It is sad. It can be especially painful for me as her husband. How I wish I could spare her from these things as well as those that are to follow. My only way of adapting is to recognize that it is totally out of my control. All I can do is try to keep her safe and happy. I pour all of my energy into that. I’ve learned to live in her world and to be joyful that she can still enjoy life. I am also aided by the fact that she is so dependent on me. She is like a young child, she can do very little on her own. She needs help with everything, and I am willing and able to give it.

Does Kate Still “Know” Me?

It’s been almost two years since Kate first asked my name. I mentioned it to a friend in Rotary who has been very active in our club’s support of a project to raise funds for Alzheimer’s research (CART, Coins for Alzheimer’s Research and Treatment). A week later he made an announcement encouraging club members to contribute and mentioned what I had said. He conveyed how devastating that must have been for me.

While I would not have used that word, it was a moment that took me aback even though I knew that it would come eventually. I also knew that this was just forgetting my name in one moment and that at other times she would recall. I took it as a sign that the day might be coming when she would completely forget who I am and wondered how long that would be. At this point, I still don’t know. That’s good news because it means she continues to remember off and on both my name and that I am her husband. In fact, in the past few months, she has called me by name more than she did a year ago.

There is even more good news. Although it is common for her not to remember my name and relationship, she almost always recognizes me as someone who is familiar and with whom she feels comfortable. She trusts me. Two incidents occurred yesterday that are good illustrations.

At 8:30 yesterday morning, twelve minutes into my walk, Kate sat up in bed. I went to her. She was ready to get up. Although she expressed her general unfamiliarity with the location of the bathroom and what to do when there, she did not appear to be disturbed at all. I took her hand and walked her to the bathroom.

For months, she has asked what to do when I show her the toilet. Recently, I started telling her to pull her underwear down and sit on the toilet, and everything would come naturally. Once seated she understands I was right and sometimes, as she did yesterday, seems amazed that “the water just comes out.”

After using the toilet, she asked, “What next?” I told her it would be a good time for a shower. She didn’t hesitate and just asked where and what to do. I turned on the shower and led her inside. She was very comfortable with me and preferred that I take the lead in bathing. The was the first time she just stood there and turned around when I asked so that I could reach all around her.

As we walked out of the shower, I said something I don’t often say, “Do you know who I am?” She said, “No, who are you?” I gave her my name, and we continued to the bedroom where I helped her dress. Then she lay down to rest. I believe that during the time from getting up until that moment she didn’t know my name or our relationship, but she obviously trusted me. Of course, that could have been because I was the only one available. I believe, however, that her comfort level expressed the nature of our relationship and that she would not have responded the same way with a stranger.

The second illustration occurred late yesterday afternoon and early evening. Following her afternoon rest, she sat up and said she was ready to eat. I told her it was a little early for dinner and suggested she have a snack to tide her over until then. We went into the kitchen where I gave her a banana. She didn’t remember what a banana is but was delighted when she took the first bite.

It was clear that she also didn’t remember we were in our house, so I decided to give her a tour of the dining and living rooms. We must have spent ten minutes in the dining room. I am embellishing my commentary even more now. I pointed to the chandelier (never remembers what a chandelier is) and explained that was from her parents’ home. I said, “Can you picture your mother and daddy looking at different fixtures and finally deciding this was the one they believed was best for their new home then under construction. Her mother was quite a cook and loved to entertain. I reminded Kate of all the celebratory occasions and specific family members that would have eaten under the light of that chandelier. She loved the tour, but all the family items I showed her never made her recognize she was in her own home.

When we entered the living room, she was tired of standing and asked if she could sit down. We sat on the sofa that had been in her parents’ living room. I reminded her of the times we had sat on that sofa and sneaked a kiss or two after her mother and daddy had gone to bed. I didn’t yesterday but sometimes I also remind her of the doorbell that her parents had installed for her grandmother who stayed with them in the winter. Her mother rang the doorbell as a signal when it was time for me to leave.

Kate was tired and asked if she could rest on the sofa. I told her that would be fine and that I would get my laptop and sit with her. She rested about forty-five minutes before asking when we were going to eat. I told her we could order takeout from Chalupas right then.

As she got up, she asked me where I live. I said, “Right here with you. This is our house.” She looked at me skeptically. I didn’t say anything more. Her conversation in the car going to and returning from the restaurant made it very clear that she didn’t know my name or our relationship. I responded to one of her comments by saying, “I hope you feel you can trust me.” She said, “I do. You’re a nice guy.” I said, “I’m glad to hear that because I like being with you.” She said, “I like being with you.”

We ate our meal and then went to the bedroom where she started to work on puzzles but became frustrated with the first one. I gave her a couple of photo books to look at while I watched some of the evening news. She wasn’t interested. I asked if she would like to get ready for bed. She was. She was very cooperative in taking her medicine and putting on her night clothes. She went to sleep but woke at least for a minute or two when I got in bed an hour and a half later. She responded to me warmly just as though she knew I was her husband. Did she? I don’t know. I do know that she tapped me on the arm early this morning. I looked at my watch. It was 4:44. She said, “I love you.” I said, “I love you too.”

Does it really matter whether she knows my name or that I am her husband? She knows “me.”

This Morning’s Surprise

I was asleep but felt Kate move. When I looked, she was seated on the edge of the bed. The clock read 4:52. I asked if she wanted to go to the bathroom and that I would help her. She said she didn’t. She stood up. I walked around to her and asked where she was going. She didn’t answer. I reached out my hand and said I would help her. She signaled with her hand to go in front of her. Still thinking she might want the bathroom, I turned in that direction. She wanted to leave the bedroom.

She led me down the hall way to the other bedrooms. She walked through each one and looked in the closets as well as things on dressers and tables. Two of the rooms have an adjoining bath. She went from the hallway into the first one, through the bath and into the next bedroom. She turned left into the hallway. When she came to the door of the door of the first bedroom, she entered it again. She went back through the bathroom into the second bedroom. Then she went into the family room and on to the kitchen turning lights on in each room.

When we stopped in the kitchen, I told her I wanted to help her. She started to whimper and said, “I wish you could.” I asked if she could tell me what the problem was. She couldn’t.

As we left the kitchen, I took her hand and led her to our bedroom. I stopped at her side of the bed. She sat down, and I suggested that we get back in bed. She was hesitant but got in and leaned against the backboard but not in a straight sitting position. She was still bothered by something.

I got in bed and had an idea. First, I put on an album of beautiful music by Joshua Bell.  I decided to try diverting her by getting her to help me. I told her I was a little keyed up and needed her help to relax. I moved close beside her, and she gently stroked by arm. Neither of us talked. She began to relax. It was almost an hour later when she began to fall asleep. I was about to get up when she asked if I could sit beside her and talk to her. Then she said, “You don’t even need to talk, just sit here with me.” I sat on the bed beside her for fifteen minutes. We didn’t say much though we did express our love for each other. She was very calm and relaxed. Finally, I told her I was thinking of getting dressed and asked if that would be all right. She said that was fine and sounded like she really meant it.

At 8:45, I had just finished my breakfast and was about to take my morning walk when I noticed that she had gotten out of bed again. I went to her and found her in a good humor, but it didn’t appear that she knew where she was. I told her I wanted to show her something. We went to the hallway where I showed her the picture of her mother. We didn’t linger as long as we usually do.

She wanted to move on. This time she walked to another bedroom. I can’t remember why, but I left her a moment. When I came back, she was in the closet. We use this one primarily for storage of games, photo albums, and miscellaneous stuff that we should probably gotten rid of long ago. I asked what she was doing. She said she was cleaning up. Most of what she had picked up to trash was just that, but some were things we might want to keep. I helped her sort them out.

I suggested we go back to our bedroom and get her dressed. She agreed. After she was dressed, she asked if she could lie down again. I told her that would be all right. That was about an hour and forty-five minutes ago. I think that’s good. That enabled me to take my walk and write this post. It is now approaching time for lunch. If she isn’t awake in the next thirty minutes, I’ll wake her. I’m optimistic that she will be fine, but I am used to surprises.

Adapting to Changes in Kate’s Sleep Pattern

I’ve alluded many times to my OCD tendencies and my adaptability with respect to Kate’s Alzheimer’s. For the most part, I am pretty flexible and don’t experience any anxiety when things can’t go the way I planned. The hardest thing has always been my commitment to be on time. Kate’s Alzheimer’s presents a problem for me. I try to allow plenty of time to have her ready for all appointments and other obligations. This would include those that are self-imposed like having lunch together before the sitter arrives. I had a schedule that was working, but Kate’s recent changes in her sleep/rest pattern have upset things a bit.

Ironically, I’ve experienced more anxiety on the days we have a sitter than on the days we don’t. That doesn’t seem like the way it should be. It really shouldn’t, but the problem for me is two things. I feel a need to have Kate ready when the sitter arrives. It also involves the plans I have made for myself during that time. On Monday, my Rotary club meets at 12:30. The sitter arrives at noon. That works fine unless I’ve had trouble getting Kate up and dressed. This is self-imposed because I wasn’t sure how comfortable Kate would be having the sitter get her out of bed, help her with toileting, and dressing her. I am less sensitive to that now, but I still like for her to up and dressed when I leave.

On the other two days, I generally have more flexibility. The sitter arrives at 1:00. That gives us an additional hour to get ready and eat lunch. In addition, I rarely have any appointments as early as 1:30. That allows me a little extra time. It is not unusual for me to stay as long as fifteen minutes after the sitter arrives. Now that we are homebound, I have spent as much as two of the four hours at home. I could easily get along without a sitter now, but I don’t want to run the risk of losing them should I temporarily discontinue their service.

Several times recently Kate hasn’t gotten up until late in the afternoon. The first day I made a concerted effort to get her up. I didn’t push her too hard but far enough that I got a hostile reaction. I backed away. Since then, I have let her stay in bed as long as she wanted, but it bothered me.

Friday was another one of those days. I took a very non-threatening way of waking her. About thirty minutes before trying to wake her, I turned on music that I hoped might gently wake her. Then I took my laptop into the bedroom and worked on a blog post. I waited for her to open her eyes and see that I was there and then casually spoke to her in a way that she wouldn’t take as the first step to get her out of bed. I was very relaxed. We talked a little, but I didn’t try to get her up. She seemed in a good humor but sleepy. When I finally asked if she would like to have lunch with me, she wanted me to go ahead. I told her I would really like to eat with her but said nothing more. She didn’t move. I told her I would be in the kitchen if she needed me.

This time I believe I really accepted this as part of the natural progression of her Alzheimer’s and not a time for her to change. I’m the one who needs to do that. Having done it, I feel much better. To my surprise, I think the overall adjustments we are making in connection with being homebound have made this change easier than it might have been. It’s been a time when I have fewer obligations even those that are self-imposed. Except when I prepare a meal, our lives are more relaxed.

Since Rotary is not meeting, I have changed the time for our Monday sitter to 1:00 from noon. That and the fact that I don’t have to rush away when she arrives creates a greater feeling of relaxation. Like everyone, I am accepting a lot of things that were not my first choice. Given everything that is happening, fretting over her sleeping seems less important than it was before.

A Day of Recovery

I’ve written two long posts in a row. There is little reason to do the same today. What I believe is important  is that the day went well. I let Kate sleep until she got up on her own about 11:00. Even better news is that she seemed fine. I easily got her to the bathroom and dressed. Then we were off to pick up our lunch.

We started to look at one of her photo books after lunch, but she wanted to rest. She slept a good while and then just rested for the balance of the afternoon. She was asleep when I told her it was time for dinner and not eager to get up, but she did.

As soon as we finished dinner, we went back to the bedroom. At 7:15 she was in bed. She went to sleep rather quickly and had a peaceful night until 4:00 this morning when she said, “What should I do?” I told her it was a good time to sleep. She asked me a question about some people she thought were in the room. I told her I had taken care of them, and we could go back to sleep. I did. I assume she went to sleep as well because I didn’t hear from her again.

It was an uneventful day, no drama. I think all of us need that once in a while. I know we did.