When people ask about Kate, I often say that she is now at Stage 7 in her Alzheimer’s journey. I sometimes add that it is the last stage that can last for years. I feel sure my reply conveys the seriousness of this phase of the disease. For that reason, I usually add that it doesn’t mean that we don’t continue to have moments of joy. We do, and one of the interesting things to me is how often those moments are intertwined with the common symptoms of this stage. I am grateful because her life is now filled with more delusions, hallucinations, and confusion than she has experienced before. Yesterday is a good example.
Shortly after 8:00, I heard her say something and went back to the bedroom. When I reached her, she seemed wide awake but confused. That may seem a strange combination. What I mean is that she looked and sounded fully awake, but her confusion was obvious as I tried to get her up and into the bathroom.
I told her I was glad to see her and asked if she was ready to get up. She was but said, “What should I do?” I suggested she first move her feet and legs to the side of the bed. She didn’t understand what I meant, so I gently pushed them to the side. She said, “What now?” I told her to hold my right hand while I lifted her with my left. Some mornings this is difficult. She seems to be dead weight. This time she pulled my right hand, and I was able to lift her to a sitting position. It is not unusual for her to scream when I do this. She didn’t this time.
She was very uneasy getting to her feet, but we got to the bathroom without a problem. When I told her to take a seat on the toilet, she was confused and didn’t want to. That is pretty common, but this time she wanted to know why she should sit on the toilet. I gave a very simplified explanation that she couldn’t understand. Then I told her we could skip it. After I said that, she agreed to sit down. Afterwards, we washed her hands, and I gave her a toothbrush to brush her teeth. She didn’t understand what she was to do with it. I helped her get started. Then we went back to the bedroom to dress. That went smoothly.
For a very long time, Kate has responded with great interest when she sees the plants and flowers in our family room, on our patio, and the back yard. That has been less frequent in the past few weeks. It was back yesterday, and we took a few minutes to enjoy them together.
Once she was seated at the kitchen table, I gave her a glass of apple juice and her morning meds. She loved the juice (which she refers to as water) and took her pills without a protest. She actually seemed pleased I had given them to her.
The best was yet to come. I fixed her a slice of cheese toast. Kate didn’t remember having eaten it before and responded with enthusiasm. She ate it more quickly than usual, and I fixed another one. She was quite talkative while eating and after. (I may have noted in an earlier post that she seems to feel especially comfortable at the kitchen table and often wants to linger long after she has eaten. I think she likes the fact that the table is located beside a large window overlooking our neighbor’s front yard and that of another neighbor across the street. Two different sitters have commented on her wanting to stay at the table for as long as an hour after eating.)
I joined her at the table right after fixing her cheese toast. She asked my name. When I told her, she gave me her name, something she often doesn’t remember. It was one of many times during the day she didn’t remember my name or our relationship. Then she began a lengthy conversation. I wish I could tell you what she said, but her speech was so garbled that I couldn’t make any sense of it. Everything she said emanated from a delusion. I do know that she mentioned her mother and later in the conversation made references to other people (“she,” “he,” “they”) and assumed that I knew them. It was light-hearted chatter, and she laughed a lot over 30-45 minutes. I loved seeing her enjoy herself.
During all this, an album of very relaxing music was playing. “Clair de lune” caught her attention. She stopped talking and said, “Listen.” For the balance of that piece and into the next, she closed her eyes and put her hands together as though she were praying. This is not the first time she has done this. I always find it touching. The day was off to a good start. It was a very “Happy Moment” for both of us.
We finally adjourned to the family room where she wanted to rest. I took that opportunity to take my morning walk (inside the house for those of you who are new to this blog). I hadn’t walked ten minutes before she was sitting up. Then we spent a short time looking at one of her photo books before getting a takeout meal for lunch.
The sitter arrived just as we were finishing lunch. I got up from the table to get ready to leave, and the sitter took my place. It was a very natural transition. Kate was perfectly happy with Cindy as she has been since her first few visits . That makes me feel much better when Ieave.
When I returned, they were seated on the sofa looking at a photo book and having a grand time. Kate was sorry to see her go. Their relationship is everything I could have wanted and more.
The rest of the evening went well. We had a pleasant dinner with a takeout meal at home and encountered no challenges getting ready for bed. Kate had not rested at all during the day. That’s rare. As a result, she went to sleep rather quickly but awoke briefly when I got in bed. She was still happy, and so was I.
