“All Is Well That Ends Well”

Thanks to everyone for your kind words of encouragement as I faced a minor bump in the road with the norovirus. I discovered one good thing about the virus: It is short-lived, often lasting only 3-4 days. In my case, it was 3 days. I know of several other people for whom it lasted only 2 days.

More importantly, Kate has shown no signs of catching it. I still have my fingers crossed, but it looks like she may have escaped.

As I said in my previous post, we all encounter surprises that require our immediate attention away from other things that are more important to us. In my case, Kate has always been my primary concern, and I am grateful that, as of today, she remains happy and safe.

There Are Always Surprises

People “Living with Alzheimer’s” face frequent surprises, just like everybody else. I caught the norovirus this past Friday. Based on what I’ve heard from others, my case seems to be somewhat milder than they have experienced.

My primary symptom is an upset stomach. I was up four times on Friday night to toss up whatever I had in my stomach. There wasn’t anything left on the fourth try. I got a prescription for nausea that works reasonably well. I will run out of that today and hope that is all I need.

In addition to the stomach problem, I’m not as “peppy” as I usually am. I’m not a napper and hadn’t taken a nap in more than twenty years, but I took a 30-45-minute nap on Saturday and Sunday.

Of course, my primary concern is Kate. The last thing I would want is for her to catch it. I’m working hard to avoid direct contact with her, but that is difficult. So far, she is fine. She had an especially good day yesterday. She was very cheerful and talkative. That certainly brightened my spirits.

Once again, I am experiencing the benefits of living in a retirement community like Still Hopes. Our doctor’s office is downstairs and a short walk down the hallway to the building next door. My next-door neighbor brought me a package of disinfectant wipes and bottles of flavored water to help me avoid dehydration.

I’m optimistic that I’ll soon be well again and trust that Kate will be able to avoid getting the virus. Time will tell.

One Fine Day

I often mention the “Happy Moments” that Kate and I share. I chose that expression to convey that these are not continuous experiences; however, we are fortunate that they occur every day. Some days we have more happy moments than other days. Once in a while, we have a day filled with them. We had one of those the other day.

Kate began the day in a cheerful mood. She smiled, and she talked. It was one of those mornings when I got in bed with her, and we talked with music playing in the background. I love moments like this because they seem like we are connecting the way we did before Alzheimer’s, even though she can’t recall past events or speak in a way that I can understand.                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Later, she talked and laughed as the caregiver and I got her ready for the day. That’s saying a lot because she doesn’t like being rolled to one side and then the other in order to get her dressed.

She remained in this mood for the balance of the day until we turned the lights out that night.

Like so many things, I can’t explain what brought this about. I only know that it was “One Fine Day”. The days since then haven’t been quite the same, but they have been days of more Happy Moments than usual. Moments like this won’t last forever, but we will enjoy and cherish them whenever they occur.

Nighttime Conversations

Kate has never been a morning person. That has never been truer than during the middle and late stages of her Alzheimer’s. She rarely speaks in the morning. Sometimes cheerfulness and speech make their first appearance in mid-afternoon, often as we have ice cream shortly after 3:30. Sometimes it doesn’t happen until dinner, or even later.

For me, our evenings together are among the best times of the day. We watch music videos on YouTube and talk. I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s hard for me to adequately express in words. Last night, I took a few videos and attached them to a post on Facebook.

I like to think that Kate would forgive me for letting the public in on private moments like this when she is in bed in her bed clothes and her hair messed up. Despite this, I believe it’s a beautiful example of how happy she is and why this is my favorite part of the day. She still captures my heart as we approach our 62nd anniversary. Not even Alzheimer’s has been able to take this away from us.

More Happy Moments

Kate continues to experience more “Happy Moments” than she did 3-4 years ago. That has been especially true during the past couple of weeks. I often say that I can never predict how she will feel. She can be happy at one moment and withdrawn the next; however, I have come to expect her to be more at ease after 3:00 in the afternoon and often until she goes to sleep at night. That had not been so predictable since her stroke three years ago.

After the caregiver left last night, she and I experienced a Happy Moment that I would call very romantic. I was beside her in bed with my head on her shoulder. We watched a DVD of the 2025 anniversary concert of Les Miserables, our favorite musical.

Touch is more important to her now than at earlier stages, perhaps because she has aphasia. As we enjoyed the music, I put one hand across her stomach, and she put her hand on my hand. In a few moments, she began to stroke my hand gently. As I often do, I talked with her about some of the special times we had had in the past. She didn’t say much, but she was able to communicate her affection with beautiful smiles as I talked. This lasted for about an hour until the concert was over, and we called it an evening.

Her Alzheimer’s, her hospitalization with Covid, and her stroke made this romantic evening different than it might have been in years past, but there was a connection between us that made this particular moment as romantic as any we have ever experienced. We have lost much since her diagnosis fourteen years ago, but we still enjoy life and each other.

A Morning Surprise

We’re off to a good start today. Our housekeeper arrived at 8:15, and I was in the bedroom with Kate. She came to the door and said, “Knock Knock” to let us know she was coming in. Kate immediately said, “Hi” and laughed. Until that moment, she hadn’t said a word or shown any signs of being awake. It was great to start the day with a “Happy Moment”. I don’t know exactly when, but I feel sure there will be more such moments. There usually are.

An Amazing Day

For years, I’ve noted that mornings are Kate’s most difficult part of the day. I call this her neutral time. Typically, she is not cheerful. As she gets more stimulation throughout the day, she becomes happier. Her best time of the day is generally late afternoon and evening; however, a change has taken place over the past year or so. She occasionally wakes up earlier and with a smile, but it doesn’t usually continue all-day.

During the past few weeks, she has become more cheerful at various times of the day. Saturday was one of those days. It began early in the morning when I walked into the bedroom to see if she might be awake. Her eyes were closed, but she had a smile on her face. I walked over to her bedside and ran my hand across the top of her head as I often do. She gave me a bigger smile. She knew who was stroking her hair. Then she began to talk. As usual, I couldn’t understand much of what she said, but it was clear that she was happy and enjoyed talking. I wanted to take advantage of the moment and spent a good part of the morning next to her in bed.

We had a different caregiver that day. She had been with us once before, but it had been more than a year since we had seen her. I thought that might have an effect on Kate’s mood. I quickly discovered I was wrong. Kate’s cheerfulness continued throughout the whole process of getting her up. She even laughed a few times. That is saying a lot because she doesn’t like to be rolled back and forth to take off what she is wearing and replace it with her clothes for the day.

When I left for lunch, she was eating and still happy. Upon my return, I found her listening to the caregiver who was reading to her. She greeted me with a big smile. Then she and I talked for a while. She is often happy when I come home, but her facial expressions on this day conveyed that she was especially happy.

A little later, we went to a café downstairs. While Kate was eating ice cream, she and the caregiver talked as though they were longtime friends. That is very unusual. Normally, Kate is pretty quiet when we go out. Another resident stopped by to say hello and was amazed to see Kate so talkative. From there we went to dinner and then back to the apartment for the night. Kate continued her cheerful mood. She and I talked and listened to music on YouTube until she fell asleep. It was an amazing day.

Off to Another Good Start

One year ago today, I wrote a blog post entitled “2024: Off to a Good Start.” One year later, I have the same feeling. Of course, I don’t know what lies ahead, but I know that Kate made progress throughout 2024. Not only that, she experienced significantly more “Happy Moments” during the latter part of the year. And yesterday, the first day of 2025, she had a wonderful day. She was cheerful in the morning and continued throughout the day until she fell asleep last night. She smiled and talked all day. We topped it off with a great evening today. Even though I couldn’t understand much of what she said, it was wonderful engaging in the conversation.

This morning got off to a good start when I walked in the bedroom and saw her smiling. Then she said, “Thank you” with an even bigger smile. I don’t know who she was thanking, but she has hallucinations. I suspect she saw someone who did something nice. For me, it’s great just to know that she is happy.

May the New Year bring happiness and joy to you and your families!