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An Especially Good Morning Yesterday

I can’t ignore the fact that caring for Kate has become more challenging. On the other hand, there are real high points intertwined with the challenges. That has definitely been true the last couple of days.

On the whole, Kate has been more insecure. Some of that arises from her physical instability. She almost always wants to hold my hand when she walks. It happens every time she sits down. It also occurs when she is emotionally disturbed. It is hard for her to explain it to me, but she  experiences anxiety attacks.

This has happened twice in the past three or four nights. She didn’t know anything at all and was quite disturbed. They both occurred at least an hour after she had gone to bed. She couldn’t tell me much, but she was frightened. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long for her to calm down. All she needed was for me to lie down with her and comfort her.

We had a particularly good morning yesterday. Except for being unsteady on her feet, she seemed fine when she got up. Getting her ready for the day went smoothly, and she was ready to go. I told her I could fix her some cheese toast, and we went to the kitchen. I had finished my breakfast a short time before but fixed myself some coffee and sat down with her for what may be the fourth or fifth time in the past few weeks. I don’t know what has prompted her getting up so much earlier. It may be getting more sleep during the time she rests.

After breakfast, she wanted to know what she could do. I suggested we go to the family room and look at one of her photo books. We were only a page or two into one of them when I could see that she was tired and asked if she would like to rest. She took me up on that and rested about an hour and then sat up. I took a seat beside her and opened the book we had begun before she rested. For some reason, she didn’t respond with much interest. It’s hard to find something that works all the time.

Then I thought about reading something to her. I picked up The Velveteen Rabbit from the table in front of us. It had been quite a while since we last read it. I had gotten the impression that my reading to her had lost its allure. Anyway, I decided to try it again. Of course, she didn’t remember it. I was pleased that the impact of hearing it again was like the first time I read it to her several months ago. She expressed her emotions audibly throughout the book. When we approached the end, we were both a bit teary. I joked with her that we were quite a sight, two people approaching 80 being moved by a children’s book.

Kate’s rational thought and abilities are so weak that I find it interesting that she is able to enjoy the book so much. I am almost certain she is unable to process the story line. Her own emotional response must relate to the emotional content that is central to the story. I also suspect that is what has made the book a popular one for such a long time.

If that Happy Moment had been the highlight, I would have called it a good day, but there was more. When we finished, Kate said something about her parents. That made me think about showing her some of the things we have from her parents’ home. She was eager to see them. I began by showing her a salt-glazed pitcher on a counter behind us. On the bottom is a typed note from her mother explaining that her father bought that for his mother and after her death it became hers. She noted that it was for Kate and that Kate could pass it along to our daughter, Jesse. Kate was very touched as I read it to her.

From there, I took her on our usual tour through the living and dining rooms. She was especially moved by the things I showed her. Interestingly, I am getting more nostalgic myself. All of these things have also been a part of my life. I suppose that is a function of aging, but I believe it is more than that. I think that the narrative I present to Kate is actually rekindling my own memories in a way that the items themselves hadn’t done in the past. One thing I do know is that we spent a good portion of our morning simply enjoying ourselves via our intuitive abilities. Moments like these continue to uplift us even as the challenges increase.

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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.

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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.

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Life is Different for Us Now, and It’s More Than Covid-19

It is Thursday, three days since my previous post. Some of my readers have let me know they wonder if something is wrong when I miss a day or two. I usually say that I have been busy and that we haven’t experienced any significant problems. That answer doesn’t fit this time.

I have been busy, but a good bit of that has involved problem-solving with Kate. She hasn’t been her normal self. It seems to be an escalation of the problems surrounding her sleeping late. It’s not just the sleeping that is the problem. She has been more confused. She frequently thinks she is not in her own house. Now, however, it seems that she typically believes she is somewhere else. I don’t believe there was a time yesterday when she realized she was at home.

It’s not just home that she doesn’t recognize. She is also having more trouble recognizing me as her husband. It’s ironic that she is simultaneously remembering my name more than she has in a long time. That provides me with a certain amount of comfort although she frequently asks, “Where is my husband?” or says, “I wish Frank were here.” That was especially true yesterday. Before I tell you about that, I need to follow up on our very busy day Sunday. It will be easy to summarize.

You will recall that she was up early on Sunday and very active. She wasn’t agitated, but she was awake all but a very brief time during the entire day. She slept well that night and was wiped out the next day. I made an effort to get her up for lunch before the sitter came. That was a lost cause. I decided to let her sleep/rest as long she wanted. I finally got her up for dinner at 5:45.

She didn’t want to come to the table. I set up a card table and folding chairs in the bedroom, and we ate our dinner. She was still tired after dinner and wanted to go to bed. She slept well. When she woke up on Tuesday, she was back to normal. We had a good day. That brings us to yesterday.

Kate got up about 6:45. I don’t recall her ever getting up so early in years except for a bathroom break. I was in the kitchen when I looked at the video cam. She was starting to make up the bed. When I went to her, I found that she seemed wide awake. I offered to take her to the bathroom. She didn’t want to go. She also didn’t want to get dressed. She wasn’t irritated with me. She just didn’t want to do these things. She was somewhat like she had been on Sunday. She felt there were things she needed to do.

I had taken my plate of scrambled eggs with me to the bedroom. She saw them and said, “That looks good.”  I told her I could make some for her. She liked the idea, and we went to the kitchen.

Throughout the entire day, she kept “losing” me. In most instances, I was very near her at the time. She just didn’t see or recognize me. This first occurred as I walked ahead of her from the bedroom to the kitchen, she lost me a couple of times and asked where I was. She didn’t seem terribly upset, but she was relieved when she saw me. This continued at the table while I was getting her breakfast of apple juice, strawberries, grapes, and scrambled eggs. She ate every bite. I was pleased because she hasn’t wanted eggs in a long time. I’m glad to have a more nutritious option for blueberry muffins.

It was also a day when she didn’t recognize me as her husband nor that she was in our home. She was especially surprised when I started to load the dishwasher. She acted like I was her guest and said she would do it later.

Several times she said, “Where is your brother?” I told her Birmingham. She said, “Why is he there?” One time she said, “When is he coming?” This surprised me as she hasn’t said anything about my brother in a long time. I can’t imagine what prompted her to remember him.

After breakfast, she was tired and wanted to rest. I suggested she get dressed first and then rest in the family room. She accepted my suggestion and slept almost an hour, much less time that I expected given that she was up so early. Since I had missed my morning walk, I took advantage of the time and took it then (inside the house, of course).

The next surprise was that she started to get up after she was awake. Normally, she would continue to rest and only get up when I suggest that we do something together. I asked her where she was going. She said she didn’t know. That’s when I suggested that I come over to the sofa and look at one of her photo books with her. She agreed.

I picked up a photo book and sat with her. She didn’t know who I was and asked my name. I told her, and she wanted to know our relationship. I told her I was her husband. This was a time when I shouldn’t have been honest. She was bothered by not knowing. I told her I didn’t mean to upset her. She said she wanted me to be honest. She went on to say she was not herself. I told her I recognized that. She wanted to know why she was this way. She said, “It’s not just my memory. I don’t know how to do things.” I said, “That must be scary.” She said, “It is.’

She wasn’t as interested in going through the photos as she usually is. That led me to go in a different direction. I started to give her a tour of the living and dining rooms. We passed by a photo of our twin grandchildren. She enjoyed seeing them. Then I showed her a pitcher with a note from her mother that said it had been a gift from her father to his mother and that she had kept in her living room many years and was to go to Kate who could pass it along to our daughter Jesse. Kate was moved by this. From there we went to the living room. I showed her a cabinet with eighteen porcelain dolls. Her father had given them to her mother for anniversaries, birthdays, and other special occasions. At this point, she got very emotional and indicated this was too much for her. I suggested we eat lunch. I fixed her a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and a salad with chicken for me. She sat at the table while I prepared the meal. Several times, she said, “Where is he?” Each time, I walked to her and said, “I am right here. I wouldn’t leave you.” She was very relieved each time.

After lunch, we went back to the family room to look at photo books again. That’s what we were doing when the sitter arrived. Kate was still confused. I decided not to abruptly  get up and leave. Mary had brought her lunch and ate it in the kitchen while we continued to look at family pictures. When Mary finished, she came back to the family room and took a chair across the room. Finally, I told Kate I thought I would take a walk around the neighborhood and asked if that would be all right. She said that would be fine, and I slipped out.

I was gone forty minutes. I expected to see Kate asleep on the sofa. Instead, she was still looking at her photo book. That is very unusual. She always likes to nap after lunch. In addition, I don’t remember a time when she spent that long looking at photo books by herself. It makes me think that she was trying to find something that would jog her memory.

More importantly, she was more confused than when I left. She looked at me with a flash of recognition but was puzzled. I think she recognized me as someone she knows but not as her husband. I sat down with her and went through the book giving her information about the people she in the book. Several times she asked my name and relationship. I told her, but she didn’t express any great emotion.

I could tell rather quickly that she needed something to divert her and thought of her father’s family movies that had been transferred to DVDs. I mentioned them to her, and she was interested. We went back to the bedroom where I put in one of the DVDs. The part we watched was shot around the mid-to-late 1930s, so the quality of the film is poor. The sound that accompanies them was made by Kate’s father, mother, and two cousins as they watched the films we watched. That helped us identify most of the people. That is especially important for the children we have only known as adults. Kate was immediately taken by what she saw. We watched for an hour before ordering a takeout meal for dinner.

During the film, Kate periodically said, “Where is my husband?” Each time I said, “I am right here.” She experienced immediate relief and then asked the same question again. It was a bit frustrating for both of us, she because she didn’t know where I was and didn’t recognize me as her husband, I because no matter what I said I could give her only momentary comfort.

We went through this same routine at dinner. After we finished, she was tired and ready for bed. She was still awake when I joined her two hours later. She didn’t ask about her husband, but I could tell by the way she responded to me that she didn’t believe I was he.

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Busy Days with “Unintended Consequences”

It’s been more than forty years since I was involved in academic sociology, but I occasionally think about sociological concepts that apply to current situations. Sociology focuses on human activity as part of a social system. The most basic one is family, but it also includes systems like the workplace, the various voluntary organizations, and extends to larger systems like a community, town or city, country, and beyond. When there are changes in one part of a system, there are often implications for other parts as well. Sociology has no monopoly on this view. It’s just that sociology specializes in this perspective. Common sense alone frequently reminds that we are all interconnected.

We need no better example than the current global impact of the spread of Covid-19. Like it or not, this has dramatic consequences for all of us. I suspect that many of us have discovered corresponding changes we hadn’t thought about. Sociologists refer to these as “unintended consequences.”

My own thought about the impact of our not eating out (as well as that of others who have reached out to us) focused on the reduction in our social contact. That has happened, but there are other things I didn’t think about (unintended consequences). By themselves they are not seriously disruptive. One by one, however, they represent increasing responsibility and effort on my part. So far, the changes are manageable, but everything requires more thought than it did before Covid-19.

The specifics may be different, but you are no doubt having similar experiences. I don’t mean to suggest that our situation is any more difficult than yours. My intent is just to describe what is happening with us and how we are handling things.

As you would expect, my biggest concern has been for Kate. She hasn’t been able to grasp what is going on. I don’t think she perceives any of the changes that have taken place. She doesn’t remember that we have been eating out for about eight years. Thus, she treats getting takeout and my preparing meals as though this is the way life has always been.

This might lead you to think that the changes do not affect her;  however, I believe there has been one important unintended consequence for her. Because we are home significantly more than before, she rests more. I address some of that by personally spending more time going through family photo books and touring the house with her. Still, she really gets tired and likes to rest. Most of her confusion occurs during or right after sleeping or resting. As I have mentioned before,  this is more likely in the morning after a full night’s sleep. The upshot is that she has experienced more confusion and delusions this week.

Wednesday was particularly problematic. We got off to a good start when Kate woke up for the day at 7:45. I was about to put my eggs in the skillet. She said she wanted something to eat. First, I took her to the bathroom. When we finished, I decided not to get her dressed because I thought she might want to go back to bed. Then I told her we could have breakfast together and gave her a blueberry muffin I had gotten at Panera the day before. I fried my eggs, and we ate breakfast together for the second time in the past few weeks. It took her a while to eat her muffin, but she did and then wanted another. I had purchased three and put two in the freezer. I took one out, heated it in the microwave, and gave it to her.

After breakfast, we looked at one of her photo books together. Very shortly, she wanted to rest. An hour later, we looked at one of her other books until it was time for lunch. I called one of our regular restaurants that is offering takeout service. I placed the order, and Kate and I picked it up.

As we were eating, she said, “Where is my mother?” Sometimes when she asks about her parents, I tell her they are gone. Other times, I don’t. This time I said her mother was in Fort Worth. She was confused about other things. I don’t recall exactly what they were, but they involved her background and family. She was disturbed about not knowing and wanted to learn. She also didn’t know me.

I told her I would be able to help her and took her into our dining room and living room and showed her things that had been in her parents’ home. We have done this several times in the past couple of weeks. This time she was more animated by what she was learning. Right away, she was no longer disturbed.

Most of the day, she felt that she was somewhere other than her home. As we walked through the two rooms, she kept identifying items that she wanted to take home with her. In several cases, she wanted to pick them up right then. I suggested we finish the tour and then come back and get them. She agreed except for a decorative plate on the living room wall. I carried it for her as we went into the family room where we looked at several other things. She was ready to rest, and I put the plate back in the living room. The tour had distracted her. She was fine although she still believed she was someplace other than her home. I can handle that. I get disturbed when her confusion bothers her. In the end, our home tour made both of us happy.

She was more confused and disturbed after her nap. This time, I suggested we go outside and look at the flowers. Before we walked out of the house, she talked about how much she liked the house and asked me “who lives here.” I told her we did. She was surprised. She must have asked the same question five or six times between then and our getting back in the house fifteen minutes later. She enjoyed the brief (10-15 minutes) time outside and the spring blossoms. She was fine when we went back inside.

It was time for me to prepare dinner, and she rested again. She was confused and worried when I got her up for dinner. I don’t recall the specifics, but she was worried about people she thought were in the house with us. This continued through dinner. Afterward, we went back to the bedroom where I helped her get ready for bed. I found an Andre Rieu concert in Italy. She responded quickly to the music and it and several other videos for the next two hours. She was fine again.

My take on this is that she is comfortable so long as she is engaged in things that she can enjoy. Previously, eating out provided the kind of stimulation that did that. More importantly to me, it provided enjoyment for both of us without my having to create something. Without that, it takes a lot more time to entertain her.

That was our most challenging day of the week. I was relieved when she got in bed and responded happily to the music.

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How Are We Doing?

Over the past week, I’ve received a number of emails and phone calls inquiring about Kate and me and how we are adapting. My answer is that we are “managing” or doing “all right.” That’s different from my normal response of “remarkably well” that has seemed appropriate for so long. The abrupt disruption of our daily routine means we are a little bit “off balance” but on the way to “righting ourselves.”

The most important thing I can report is the past few days have been rather busy for me. Most of that relates to the disruption of our daily routine by the current restrictions under which we are now living. Some of them relate specifically to changes that Kate has made. The latter fall in the category of the common things that happen all the time but seem more troublesome while we are going through an adjustment to being largely housebound. We’ve grown accustomed to being out-and-about. Let me outline a few things that have occurred this week.

This past Sunday, Kate woke up and was frightened. When I said I would like to take her to lunch, she didn’t want to go out because people would make fun of her. She said, “No one likes me.” I tried to reassure her. That didn’t help until I said, “Amanda likes you.” Her eyes lit up, and she said, “Who is that?” I told her she was our server at Andriana’s. That was enough to redirect her attention.

During the week she has been more confused than usual about her food and eating. At Andriana’s, she didn’t recognize or know how to eat her bread. As I usually do, I took a large piece and broke it into pieces and buttered it for her. Then I put the plate with the bread in front of her. She said, What’s this?” I told her it was her bread, and she asked me what she should do. I told her she could just pick it up and eat it. She looked confused. When she finally decided to pick it up, she used her fork for the bread.

After finishing her bread, she put her drink where her dinner plate was to go. When the server brought our meal, I told her I would place it on the table and asked Kate to move her glass so that I could put her plate down. Although I tried several times to explain what I wanted, she never understood me. I had to move the glass.

That is just one of many things she may not understand at a meal. Tuesday night, I prepared shrimp cocktail. She had forgotten what shrimp were and didn’t understand how to eat them. I held one in my hand to demonstrate and explained that she could pick it up by the tail, dip it in the ketchup (yes, I didn’t have cocktail sauce.), and take a bite. She didn’t understand what the tail was and doesn’t see well enough to notice the way I was holding it. I decided leaving the tails on wasn’t a good idea and cut them off for her. Then I told her to pick them up with her fork. She didn’t understand until I did it for her. I had also split a baked potato for us along with sliced apples. She enjoyed them but dipped both in the ketchup.

Two other issues involve her getting seated whether in a chair, the sofa, or getting in the car. It takes much longer (not because of Covid-19) to sit down than one would expect. I need to tell her, point, and put my hands on the chair she is to use. Even after that, she sometimes starts to go to another chair at restaurants. It happens regularly at home when I want the two of us to sit on our sofa. I like her to sit in the middle so that I can sit on the end where I have more light to read the text in her photobooks. We go through a similar I point to the middle of the sofa, walk over to it and put my hand on the middle cushion. Yesterday, she took a seat at the other end of the sofa.

Getting in the car involves a challenge of knowing which side of the car to get in and what to do when she is there. I don’t believe she distinguishes one side from the other at all. I do know that I need to lead her to the passenger side, open the door, and assist her getting in. When I open her door, she sometimes says, “What do I do?” or “I don’t want to drive.” or “You get in first.”

As I’ve said before, these are all little things, but they seem a little bigger now that I am trying to concentrate on managing a new life at home.

So, how are we doing? We are managing, and we will adapt as we have done in the past. I suspect that’s exactly what most of you are doing. We’re going to make it, but I feel for those who find themselves in situations that are far more difficult and serious than ours. We are fortunate that our biggest problems are little ones although that doesn’t count the biggest one of all, Kate’s Alzheimer’s.

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Minor Events Seem Bigger in Times Like These

In my last post, I noted how the coronavirus pandemic is affecting Kate and me. My emphasis was the impact of not being able to eat out for lunch and dinner. I didn’t mention that some of the normal daily happenings can seem more troublesome than they might under ordinary circumstances. Several of those have occurred this past week.

Monday night, I changed the sheets on our bed. As I was putting the fitted bottom sheet on. I reached under the mattress to pull the sheet as tight as I could. I hit the knuckle of my right index finger on the bed frame. It was a minor injury, but I started to bleed. I went to look for a bandage and a found an old box with various small sizes. Finding the right one was a struggle as I tried to keep blood from dripping all over the place while I searched.

I had given Kate her iPad to work on puzzles while I made up the bed. She kept getting in trouble and asking for my help. That was fine until I cut my finger. My priority was getting it bandaged. She was impatient. I tried to explain that I had cut my finger and needed a few minutes. I don’t think she ever grasped what had happened. As quickly as I could, I cleaned up my finger and bandaged it.

Tuesday morning, I had a 10:45 appointment for labs at my doctor’s office. When I tried to get Kate up she balked. There was no moving her. My desire to be on time made me a little anxious. I made a call to my office and asked if one of my colleagues could stay with her. Barbara came right out.

As I was about to drive away from the doctor’s office, I felt something wet on my arm. I realized quickly that I must be bleeding although it didn’t show through the material. I keep napkins in the car for Kate and picked up a couple to stop the bleeding. Then I had a second thought. The doctor’s nurse would be able to handle this better than I. I went back in, and she took care of it.

As I said at the top, these are minor events, but they seem bigger with all the other changes that we are experiencing. I just like for things to go smoothly. As our current situation suggests, that doesn’t always happen even when you are in the middle of a much bigger crisis.

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Something Old, Something New

For the past few years, Kate as worked jigsaw puzzles on her iPad while I watched the evening news. Now that she is less able to work her puzzles, we are trying to adapt. Without her iPad, she has little to do in the evening. When we return home from dinner, I usually ask if she would like to work on her puzzles. Sometimes she does; sometimes she doesn’t.

Last night, she asked if there was something she could read. What she was really asking is “What can I do now?” I always mention her puzzles, one of her family photo books, watch the news with me, or watch musical performances on YouTube. Last night, she said she wanted to work puzzles. I brought her iPad to her, but she changed her mind. Then I handed her the “Big Sister” album her brother Ken had made for her. This has been a big success since he gave it to her almost two years ago.

As she looked at it, she said, “What do I do?” I told her she could look through it and enjoy the many pictures of her and Ken and their family. She didn’t understand. (This is an experience that happens frequently now. For example, it happens when I give her the toothbrush to brush her teeth. Sometimes it occurs when I open the car door for her.) I tried to explain by commenting on several pictures.

This turned out to be one of those times when she thinks her photo book works like her iPad. She touches a photo and waits for something to happen. Once or twice I have observed her looking at other albums or magazines and doing the same thing. In those instances, she didn’t seem bothered by the fact that nothing happened. That wasn’t true last night. She wanted me to help her, but I found that an impossible task. Nevertheless, she was interested, and I really wanted to help her.

I told her the first thing to know was that touching the picture won’t do anything. I explained that she should just look at a picture and enjoy what she sees. I gave her a chance to try it. She immediately touched a photo and waited for something to happen. I reminded her that nothing would happen. I knew my efforts were likely to fail, but I spent about ten minutes trying to teach her how to enjoy the photos.

Finally, I suggested that we turn on the TV and pull up some Andre Rieu concerts on YouTube. That turned out to be a winner. Music came to the rescue again. I didn’t get to watch the news, but I took my shower and watched with her. We spent almost two and a half hours with Andre. It turned out to be a good evening after all.

As useful as some of the old tools in my box can be, it’s always nice to have new things I can add. Last week, I saw an ad on Facebook that said the company could compile a book of the photos I had posted over the past decade. The idea intrigued me, and I made the purchase immediately. The book arrived on Monday, and I was looking for the right moment to show it to Kate. Yesterday afternoon was a good time. She has rested about two hours, and it was still too early for us to do to dinner. I told her I had something to show her, and we both took a seat on the sofa. It’s a big book with 550 photos, so I was unsure how far we would get. As it turned out, we came close to looking at the whole thing. I was surprised. Recently, she has gotten tired when we have looked at some of her other photo books. Personally, I did find it a lot to go through in one sitting, but I was encouraged by her response and will look forward to looking at it again.

If any of you are thinking of having a book like this, I would suggest you do it more carefully than I did. During the ordering process, the company gave me a chance to edit. I thought it was too much trouble. For my purposes, I still think that was true. If I were doing it again, I would go through the entire book and delete unwanted photos and also change the order in which some of them appear. In my case, the book meets my needs. It gives me one other thing I can use with Kate to make her day and mine more enjoyable.

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Reflecting on Our “Good Days”

At this stage of Kate’s Alzheimer’s, I think a lot about the amount of quality time we have left. I don’t mean that I bask in sorrow. I don’t, but I recognize she is in the last stage when we are likely to make more adjustments to our lives than we have done before.

At the moment, however, I am particularly struck by the “Good Days” we have. It not only surprises me; it keeps my spirits up. We had two of those days this weekend. I would like to be able to take credit for them, but I think the fundamental cause was Kate’s mood. She was in very good spirits both Saturday and Sunday.

I might also expect that her good mood was accompanied by a lack of confusion, but that isn’t so. Saturday, she appeared to be rather clear-headed except for wondering where she was. I don’t recall her asking my name. That happens off and on. Sunday morning, she was very confused. She didn’t know my name or hers and couldn’t remember them well enough to repeat them. What made me feel good was that she didn’t seem disturbed at all about not knowing. I am thankful that is typical.

In addition to her good mood, our time together seemed special. Our obligations were minimal. The only official commitment was our dinner reservation Saturday night. She was up earlier than usual both days. We didn’t have to rush. That kind of schedule is the best for her and, thus, for me as well.

We also had a couple of special moments on Saturday. Both occurred after resting in the afternoon. One of those was my reading her a portion of a book about her family’s wedding veil. I’ve read it to her multiple times in recent weeks, but she is always taken with it. She did get tired and wanted to rest before we got well into it.

The second experience was after her second rest. She commented on a few things in the family room that led me to suggest that I show her some of the other rooms. On the way to the back of the house, we passed several photos and stopped to look at them while I told her a little about each one.

The next stop was our guest bedroom. Of course, she had no recollection of it at all and liked what she saw. She got tired of standing and asked if she could sit in a rocking chair. I saw a photo album of our children during their earliest years. We spent quite a while looking at it and never got to another room.

When we finished, it was time to get ready for dinner. This was the only moment in the day that could have become a problem. I had planned a nice Valentine’s dinner at one of the restaurants we usually visit for lunch. I suggested we change clothes and had picked out exactly what I wanted her to wear, but she didn’t want to change. I told her we were going out for a nice dinner, and I was going to put on something a little nicer. She was fine with that but wasn’t going to change. I didn’t push her.

A few minutes later after I had changed, she asked what I wanted her to wear. I told her I would get something and brought her the clothes I had picked out. She had apparently forgotten the conversation we had just had a few minutes before. I helped her change, and we were off.

The dinner itself went as I had hoped. We were welcomed by the manager, our server, and another server who sometimes works as a hostess. They had selected a corner table that was perfect for the occasion. The meal itself was quite good. In addition, a couple we know from our music nights at Casa Bella were seated at the table next to us. I don’t recall our talking about Valentine’s Day at all or anything else especially romantic. We just had a good time together.

Kate was up early Sunday morning. We spent a little less than an hour at Panera before returning home where she rested an hour before leaving for lunch. The restaurant was unusually busy. Consequently, it took longer to be served, but we had a good time. I haven’t said anything in a while about her asking Sinatra’s name when she looks at his mug shot, but that hasn’t let up. She is well-aware that she repeatedly asks and wonders why she can’t seem to remember it, but she doesn’t appear to be very disturbed.

She rested after we returned home with music playing as usual. She awoke about an hour before dinner. I suggested we take a look at a few things around the house. We began with some photos in the family room. As often as she has looked at them, I am amazed and happy that she enjoys them just like it was the first time to see them.

From there we went into the living room and dining room where I showed her a number of things that came from her parents’ home. I enjoy telling her the stories behind each of the items, and she was entranced. It was another special moment.

We are both fortunate that repetition has not diminished the pleasure for either of us. She can’t remember, so it is always new. I like telling her things she can’t remember and seeing her reaction as I tell her. I read a lot about other caregivers’ experiences and know that many of them are bothered by so much repetition. I wish I knew how to help them. My experience is different. Whatever the reason, we have been able to maintain a relationship that has been important in helping both of us adapt to all the changes we have had to make. She feels dependent on me and is normally responsive to the things I want her to do. I want to deserve her trust and work hard to make her life as happy as I can. One of the ways I can do that is to answer her questions and do the things she enjoys so much. I believe each of us loves the other more now than at any other time in our marriage. I think that carries us a long way.

I continue to be mindful of the pleasure she and I can experience through her intuitive abilities. I like to think this is something from which other caregivers could benefit to make their loads lighter. At the same time, I recognize the likelihood that many of them are facing other challenges that we have not faced. Among those would be health and financial constraints. I feel for them and am grateful that at this late stage of Kate’s Alzheimer’s, I see little, if any, loss of pleasure that comes from music, beauty, and associations with family. How long will this last? We will see. I am hopeful that it will continue for some time.

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Examples of Kate’s Decline

Each morning I find myself wondering “What’s in store for today?” Even though most days go well, I am always on alert for problems. That’s how I was two days ago. I knew the sitter was to arrive at 1:00 and that I had an appointment to donate platelets shortly after that. I wanted to get her up in time for us to have lunch together. Around 9:00, I was encouraged when I heard her talking . I went back to the bedroom. She greeted me with a smile and chatted a few minutes. She said she was waiting for someone to take her home. I told her I would be happy to do that. She said that her mother would do it. Then she said it was “that guy” whose name she couldn’t recall. I asked her if she was ready to get up. She wasn’t. I told her I would be in the kitchen and to call me when she was ready. I was going to give her another hour or so before going in again, but less than thirty minutes passed before I heard her say, “I’m here.” She was ready to go home.

I took her to Panera for a muffin and then to lunch. As my previous posts about her sleeping later suggests, she gets very tired. She had taken her place on the sofa in the family room before Mary arrived. She was still there when I returned. During the past two or three weeks, with a couple of exceptions, she appears to have rested the entire time the sitters were here. Although she is comfortable with both sitters, I have the impression that she is going through a stage when she feels especially dependent on me and simply waits for me to come home. I am sure that is true with respect to using the bathroom. I’m only aware of one time she has gone to the bathroom while the sitter is here. That was recently when the sitter helped her get up and dressed after she had slept late.

I see this dependency in other small ways. She likes me to sit beside her when we sit in a booth at restaurant. The same is true at Casa Bella when we are seated at a table for six or eight. She wants to hold my hand more often when we are walking. She wants more instructions about what to do when toileting, brushing teeth, taking a shower, getting ready for bed. She hasn’t given up all signs of independence, but she is coming close to that.

She is forgetting a lot with respect to eating. She often points to the bread on the table at a restaurant and asks what it is. When I tell her, it doesn’t necessarily help. She is still a good eater, but she often fails to recognize the entree on her plate. She doesn’t recognize the salt and pepper at our neighborhood Mexican restaurant. Part of the confusion is that they are in the small Corona beer bottles, but the salt and pepper are clearly visible though not to her.

She also worries more frequently. Sometimes it involves a belief that she has an obligation of some sort. She worries about whether she has forgotten to do something. She also worries about people who have financial and health problems. The other night she talked a good while about some kind of disease that is being transmitted from mothers to their babies. She said there was a preventive medication that mothers can take. She told me she was planning to have herself tested. On the way to dinner last night, she was worried she might have done something to me that she shouldn’t. I assured her she hadn’t.

I also notice she isn’t as cheerful throughout the day. I think that goes along with her being tired. She does, however, have moments off and on during the day when she is very lighthearted and takes great pleasure in teasing me.

Taken together these things and many others are signs of the progression of her Alzheimer’s. We still have “Happy Moments,” but it is clear that I am unable to control everything. Some people suggest the disease always wins. In a sense this is true; however, I consider it a victory that we have been able to live happily, even joyfully, for so long. I intend for us to do as much as we can as long as we can, but I also recognize the reality that Kate’s decline means significant changes in our lifestyle.