2024: Off to a Good Start

As my regular readers know, the last part of 2023 was the most stressful time I have experienced since Kate’s diagnosis on January 21, 2011. On November 9, the caregiver who had been with us since the first of August left us because of health problems of her own. Over the next four weeks, I had 29 different caregivers. That was the only time I had experienced that during the six years I have had in-home care for Kate.

The last two weeks of December were better. At year’s end, we had had 35 different caregivers since November 9. We began 2024 with a significant improvement. We have a person who has agreed to be here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday through the entire months of January and February and, hopefully, for the rest of the year.

She is someone I liked the first time she came a few weeks ago. I was excited when I saw that she was on the schedule. When she arrived, I thanked her for her commitment. I was stunned and touched when she told me that she made her decision because she felt bad about my having so many different people and knew that was difficult for me.

The day went very well. I was especially impressed by the fact that she remembered several things that I had told her were important to me. Not everything had gone as well as either of us had wanted on her first visit almost two months ago, but she arrived determined that everything would go smoothly. It did.

It is still too early for me to get overly excited but it looks like we may have found someone who will be even better than the previous ones who have been with us for more than a few months.

I should add that I recognized long ago that my active involvement with Kate’s care is not something that not all caregivers appreciate. It means they are under my watchful eye, and I often have suggestions regarding her care. I have learned that most husbands in my position leave quickly when the caregiver arrives and return just in time for her to leave. In my case, I assist each caregiver with the process of getting Kate dressed, out of bed with a lift, and getting her something to eat before I leave for lunch. I am rarely gone for more than three hours of an 8-hour shift.


As we begin the new year, I feel optimistic that we will find someone else to fill in on Tuesday and Thursday. That means I will have four caregivers to cover all seven days of the week instead of the three I had before; however, that should be a piece of cake after the events of the past two months with almost forty different caregivers. Things are looking up.

Thirty-four Years of Caregiving

Thirty-four years ago this past Saturday, November 11, 1989, Kate’s father had a massive stroke. It had been preceded by several TIAs, but his stroke had a major impact on his life and the lives of his family.

Until that time, Kate and I hadn’t given much thought to caregiving for our parents. We were empty nesters focusing on making the most of our time together while completing the remaining years before retirement. We never stopped doing that; however, we took on a new role as caregivers.

It began with her father’s stroke. He died four months later. During and after that, we found that her mother also needed care. Several years later, she experienced a stroke as well and developed vascular dementia. Ultimately, we brought her to live with us for 5 ½ years with 24/7 in-home care before she died in 2005.

In the mid-90s, my parents moved to live near us. I didn’t know at the time, but my mother had an undiagnosed form of dementia. She died in 2002, but my father had a significant other who developed vascular dementia. We helped him take care of her until her death in 2009. That same year, my father had a stroke, and in 2011, Kate was diagnosed with Alzheimers.

My father died in 2013. Since then, I have been able to give my full attention to Kate who is in the last stage of Alzheimer’s.

Caregiving always comes with a variety of challenges, but it can also have its rewards. The most important reward for me has been the opportunity to walk with loved ones through the last chapter of their lives. They did a lot for me, it has been rewarding to be able to do something in return.

Kate’s Connection With A Caregiver

I know I sound like a broken record, but I want to add another Happy Moment to this blog. We don’t experience such moments 24/7; however, Kate has gradually improved during the past year. She continues to surprise me with her cheerfulness, smiles, and overall good humor.

I wondered how it would go when I learned that our previous M-F caregiver was going to fill in for our new caregiver one day this past week. It turned out beautifully and began the moment she arrived. When Kate saw her and heard her voice, she burst into one of her biggest smiles. It was obvious that she remembered her.

I’ve written before about this caregiver. She was especially attentive to Kate, and they bonded. Almost a year ago, I nominated her for “Employee of the Month,” an honor she received in March. That put her in contention for “Employee of the Year” among the winners of the other eleven months. She won that award as well. I was very disappointed to lose her, but she was having back problems and also wanted a change in her schedule that didn’t match our needs.

The day went very well, but the “Grand Finale” occurred after we returned to our apartment following dinner. Kate and the caregiver began what was at least a 15-minute conversation. For someone with aphasia who rarely speaks that is remarkable. She was perfectly comfortable and talked as much or more than the caregiver. It warmed my heart to be an observer.

Nothing has happened that could match that since then, but the past few days have also been good ones. Three days in a row Kate woke up with a smile, and yesterday she was also talking. This is not typical. That’s another change that has occurred more often in recent months. My explanation for the changes she has made in the past year has occurred because she feels more at ease. She receives a good bit of reinforcement from everyone, which makes her even more at ease. It also makes me very happy.

Addendum

At the time I uploaded this post yesterday morning, the first sentence in my closing paragraph was true; however, I couldn’t anticipate what would happen yesterday afternoon. When I returned from lunch, I found her especially cheerful and talkative. She and I talked steadily for almost an hour before we went out for her daily ice cream and dinner. She was less talkative during these times, but the situation was less conducive to conversation. When we came back to the apartment, we continued to talk. That lasted until she was in bed for the night. I took thirty-four short videos (mostly 20-45 seconds) during our conversations. It was an amazing experience.

Managing Stress

Because Kate and I have lived joyfully while “Living with Alzheimer’s, one might think that stress is not an issue for me. That would be wrong. The only time I have been relatively free of stress was in the first few years after her diagnosis. At that time, the key stressor was juggling my responsibilities between Kate and my dad who was in skilled nursing. Since then, stress has gradually increased.

Since Kate’s diagnosis 12 ½ years ago, I’ve learned a number of things about stress and how to deal with it. One of those is that it is impossible to avoid. It’s a natural part of caring for someone with dementia. The best I can do is to find ways to manage it.

In the early days, that was easy. Shortly after Kate’s diagnosis, we decided that we would enjoy life and each other for as long as possible. That simple decision led to our binging on the things we had enjoyed throughout our marriage – movies, theater, musical events, eating out, and travel. Pleasure was a central part of our lives and helped both of us minimize stress.

As Kate’s Alzheimer’s progressed, I needed to spend more time with her and felt less comfortable leaving her alone. At the same time, stress was increasing. That led to my engaging in-home care three years after her diagnosis. For a little more than three years, we had help four hours a day for three days a week. That gave me time to run errands and get to the YMCA for exercise.

The past two and a half years, she has required total care. That resulted in my increasing our in-home care to eight hours a day seven days a week. Despite that, my responsibilities increased significantly, and that was accompanied by more stress. Fortunately, I’ve been able to manage it pretty well,

I put a high priority on a healthy lifestyle. Except for my days in graduate school and the first few years I taught, my adult life has involved exercise. Since Kate’s diagnosis, I have needed it more. I used to work out at the YMCA three mornings a week. I stopped when I felt I could no longer leave Kate alone in the morning. That is when I took up walking every day. After our move to a life plan retirement community, I replaced walking for workouts in our wellness center downstairs. I get up between 4:30 and 5:00 five days a week and do stretching exercises for 25-30 minutes before going to the wellness center. I ride the seated elliptical for fifty minutes averaging a little over eight miles a day.

I have also taken up deep breathing. I do that periodically each day including the time I am exercising. I’ve made a number of other lifestyle changes that are helpful. One of those is to avoid rushing. I realized that I was rushing to get to the gym as well as going about my daily household chores like fixing breakfast, washing, folding, and putting away laundry. That doesn’t make much sense now that I am retired. I deliberately began to slow down as I go about my daily routine. In addition, I take breaks during the day and have reduced my emailing, activity on social media, and writing blog posts  

I pay attention to my diet. I maintain a high-protein, low-carb diet with an abundance of fish, vegetables, and recently, nuts and fruit. Sleep is also important to me. Fortunately, Kate sleeps through the night. That enables me to get between 7 and 7 ½ hours sleep.

By far the most effective way I have found to deal with stress is to be as socially active as I can. I do this in a variety of ways.

I follow a daily schedule that includes contact with other people than Kate and our caregivers. That is a lot easier now that we are in a retirement community. Three days a week, I eat lunch in a café downstairs. I don’t think I have eaten alone more than once or twice since we moved here. The other four days of the week I eat off the grounds. One of those days is with my Rotary club. The other three days, I eat alone; however, I eat in restaurants where I have eaten for several years and know some of the staff, and I frequently run into friends.

Our afternoon and evening routine includes 30-40 minutes at a café on the grounds where Kate has ice cream. It is also a time to run into other residents, and most of them stop to chat for a few minutes. In addition, we eat dinner in the dining room five nights a week and in a café downstairs the other two nights. These provide additional opportunities for Kate and me to engage in additional contact with residents and staff. That is good for both of us.

Part of my weekly routine is getting together with friends for coffee. Every Friday, I meet a friend who worked for me ten years before using his computer skills to launch out on his own. We have kept up ever since he left. I meet with another group every Saturday. All three were neighbors before our move two and a half years ago. One of them recently moved to our retirement community.

I stay in contact by phone and/or email with longtime friends and family. This includes my undergraduate sociology professor and mentor who turns 101 in September. I also stay in touch with four other college friends as well as three grammar school friends.

I maintain relationships with several organizations with which I have been involved for many years. Those include the United Way, Rotary, our church, our local symphony orchestra, and a local health foundation.

Apart from these social connections, I participate in three different caregiver support groups. One of those is a group for husbands taking care of their wives with dementia. Another is a mixed group of husbands and wives who are caring for a spouse with dementia. The third group is a group of husbands and wives caring for spouses with any illness that requires regular care. The first group meets twice a month. The other two meet once a month.

Of course, the most important stress-relieving relationship I have is with Kate. Some readers may be surprised that I can say that at this late stage of her Alzheimer’s. To be sure, we don’t relate in many of the ways we could before Alzheimer’s entered our lives, but not a day goes by without our having “Happy Moments.” They serve as the best stress reducer I can find. I savor every “Happy Moment” I have with her. I can’t eliminate stress, but I have a lot of things that help me manage it as effectively as possible. I am grateful.

Addendum

I thought I had finished this post yesterday morning, but since then I have had three different experiences I would like to add. Each one involves a “Happy Moment” with Kate. The first occurred yesterday just before leaving for lunch. She was smiling, and I told her what a beautiful smile she has. Then I said, “And you are beautiful. I love you.” The expression on her face changed immediately as she almost broke into tears. I can’t say precisely what that meant, but to me, it was very touching to see her so moved.

The second one occurred after I got home. I walked over to her and kneeled beside her chair. I told her how happy I was to see her and how much I missed her while I was gone. She gave me a smile and whispered, “I love you.” That is a rare event. More typically, she expresses her feelings with her facial expressions as she did before I left.

The third occurred this morning. She was awake early and in a cheerful mood and talking. That doesn’t happen very often. She is usually very subdued and rarely speaks until the afternoon. On days like today, I sit up in bed beside her and enjoy being with her. We had a good conversation even though I couldn’t understand a word she said. The important thing was that we were connecting. It was a very special moment.

Each of these is a good example of the kinds of “Happy Moments” we experience on a daily basis. They don’t happen all day, but they occur often enough that they boost my spirits knowing that our relationship still means a lot to both of us.

Update on In-Home Care for Kate

Six years ago this coming September, I engaged in-home care for Kate. At that point, all I needed was someone to be with her while I went to the Y and ran errands. It was prior to my feeling a real need for help, but I was becoming uneasy about leaving her alone. At the time, I referred to the caregivers as sitters. All they had to do was spend time with Kate. They didn’t have to dress her, prepare meals for her, or take her places.

Looking back, I view that as the “honeymoon stage” of our in-home care. After a month or so, we settled into a routine with two different people. One came on Mondays for four hours. The other came on Wednesdays and Fridays for four hours. This went well for three years although we made a few changes in the person coming to the house on Mondays. Fortunately, we had the same person for Wednesdays and Fridays for more than three years.

Then came Covid in November 2020. Kate’s Alzheimer’s had been progressing more rapidly in the previous two years. She was in the early stages of aphasia and was developing mobility problems. Her hospitalization for eight days for Covid was traumatic for her. Since then, she has required total care.

The honeymoon with in-home care was over. Finding caregivers was also more challenging because of the pandemic. Apart from the pandemic, fewer caregivers are willing to accept people who require total care. Thus finding and keeping caregivers has been a problem since then.

It is especially difficult to find someone to work eight hours a day five days a week, but we found one person who was with us until May 2022. We were able to replace her with someone who was with us until this week when she decided to leave because of her back problems. That was a low blow to me. She was the most caring and compassionate caregiver we have had. She and Kate got along well, something I consider of paramount importance.

So, we are going through an adjustment. We have a new person who comes for eight hours a day on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday and another who comes on Thursday and Friday. We are now in our second week with them, and I am encouraged that they will work out. They are both good but have complementary skills. The MTW person has CNA skills that are among the best of anyone we’ve had previously and she has a caring personality. She does have a minor back problem, so we have elevated the bed another six inches, and I am playing a greater role in the heavy lifting. She also appears to be someone who is easy to work with. She has lots of ideas about how care should be provided, but she is also sensitive to the routine we have established.

Our Thursday/Friday person is very cheerful with a very warm and caring personality. She and Kate connected right away. She even stopped by to chat with Kate while we were having ice cream Saturday afternoon with one of our regular weekend caregivers.

Despite my optimism, having new people for five days a week does mean another adjustment for me. That will mean more work for me to familiarize them with our needs and priorities, but we should soon establish a new routine.

Although I wish I could count on having a regular group of caregivers for a longer period of time, we are fortunate to have had three caregivers who were with us for more than a year. At the moment, only one of them is still with us. She has been coming every other weekend for a year and seven months.

Change always requires adjustments, but it often comes with benefits. That is what I am hoping for with this one. Right now, I am optimistic that Kate’s care will match or exceed what we had before.

My Thoughts on Giving Advice

In two recent posts, I discussed some of the many reasons that Kate and I have lived well while “Living with Alzheimer’s.” Many of them were unrelated to anything specific we have intentionally done. Some of them, however, were deliberate choices we made that turned out to be very beneficial. As a result, some people might think I would jump at the chance to give advice to others, but such is not the case. Let me explain.

Long before Kate’s diagnosis, I learned that many caregivers are annoyed by the advice they receive from friends and family. That occurs most often because the person giving the advice doesn’t fully understand the situation of the person receiving it. There’s a saying that is common among the community of dementia caregivers. “If you’ve had one experience with dementia, you’ve had one experience with dementia.” The point is that each case of dementia has its own unique characteristics; therefore, what works in one situation may not work in another.

When people give advice, they usually believe that what worked for them will work for others. They do this without fully understanding that the circumstances of the person receiving the advice may be (and often is) quite different from their own.

My earliest personal encounter with this occurred after we brought Kate’s mother into our home with 24/7 in-home care. Kate was annoyed when an acquaintance periodically encouraged her to put her mother in a skilled nursing facility. That might have been a good suggestion for some people, but not for us. For a variety of reasons, we believed that in-home care was the best option for her mother and for us. I still believe that. Since then, I’ve heard other caregivers talk about their irritation with similar unwanted advice.

As a result, I try to avoid giving advice. There is one notable exception. That is based on what I learned from Judy Cornish, author of Dementia Handbook and Dementia with Dignity. Her approach to dementia caregiving emphasizes an important distinction between rational and intuitive thought. In her view, all is not lost with dementia. Although people with dementia lose their rational thought, they retain their intuitive thought which relies on direct experience with the world via our senses.

That means that even as memory declines, people with dementia can continue to enjoy many aspects of life. For Kate and me, that has involved music, movies, theater, dining out, and social connections. With Kate at late-stage Alzheimer’s, we can’t pursue these interests in the same way that we did during earlier stages. For example, she lost the ability to use her computer which allowed her to connect with family and friends and work on photobooks of family photos. She also lost her ability to use her iPad. She had used it to work jigsaw puzzles for hours a day. We gave up travel. We gave up eating out. As I often say, our world today is much smaller than it used to be, but we can still enjoy life and each other. That’s because we continue to find activities that she can appreciate via her intuitive thought. That includes music which has been an important source of entertainment throughout our marriage.

My primary advice to others who confront the diagnosis of dementia is to accept the fact that rational thinking will become weaker and weaker and focus on what loved ones with dementia can do and appreciate. When you think about it, most of the things we enjoy, whether we have dementia or not, relate to intuitive not rational thought. We don’t derive most of our pleasure from our knowledge of things like the names of current political figures or how to multiply or divide 1,396 by 3. Most of our pleasure comes from eating our favorite foods, listening to music, watching movies or TV, time with good friends, etc. A person with dementia can enjoy all of these things even years after their diagnosis.

I’d like to emphasize one other thing that people with dementia can appreciate via their intuitive thought, and that is LOVE. Love can play a role in lifting anyone’s spirits, but it can be especially helpful with people who have dementia. Their loss of rational thought can easily lead to a lower sense of self-worth. People respond differently to them because they are often unsure of what to do or say. The result is that people with dementia are often ignored, and their sense of self-worth is weakened.

For that reason, I believe caregivers should do everything they can to make sure their loved ones know that they are loved – that they matter. This is easier said than done. Caregivers often find themselves so occupied by routine responsibilities of caregiving (that their own rational thought tells them are important) that they overlook the most important thing they can do – making loved ones feel they are loved.

One reason I feel comfortable giving this advice is that it does not require that other caregivers do the same things that Kate and I have done. When we decided to enjoy life and each other for as long as we were able, we looked to things that had always given us pleasure – music, movies, theater, eating out, travel, and time with friends and family. We were lucky that both of us enjoyed all of these things. That doesn’t happen with every couple, but I do hope that other couples and families might be able to find their own ways to enjoy life and each other. It is certainly worth trying.

Reflections on Living with Alzheimer’s: Part 1

Since Kate’s diagnosis twelve years ago, I’ve connected personally with a number of other couples who are traveling this same road. I’ve also become acquainted with the experiences of 25-30 other caregivers who tell their stories in books, blogs, and podcasts as well as many others via Twitter and Facebook. It seems clear to me that Kate and I have had an easier time than most people – at least the ones with whom I am familiar. We have been very fortunate. But why?

There are many reasons. Most importantly, Kate has been easy to care for. She has never experienced the kind of problems that often accompany the disease. She accepted her diagnosis gracefully and hasn’t experienced any anger and aggressiveness that sometimes occurs with dementia. As her Alzheimer’s progressed and I had to assume a larger role in her life, she accepted that as well as she accepted the diagnosis. In late-stage Alzheimer’s she requires total care, but she has adapted well.

Kate’s only signs of anger or aggressiveness occurred after her 8-day stay in the hospital with Covid in November 2020. She was traumatized by the experience and somewhat belligerent when we changed and dressed her. That dissipated over a period of several weeks. Even now she doesn’t like it when we have to turn her in bed and audibly expresses her displeasure. I understand. I wouldn’t like that myself.

There are quite a few other things that have made living with Alzheimer’s easier for us. I divide them into two general categories – Pre-Diagnosis and Post-Diagnosis. In this post, I’ll deal with our pre-diagnosis situation.

Pre-Diagnosis

  • Neither of us had any other chronic health issues that demanded our attention. That’s not true for a lot of people our age.
  • Kate’s diagnosis came at the end of our working years. She had already retired, and I was transitioning to retirement. That meant we had time to focus on living well with Alzheimer’s.
  • We both shared the same interests including music, theater, movies, eating out, and travel. They all played a significant role in our marriage prior to the diagnosis and increased significantly afterward.
  • We were not constrained by financial difficulties that would have made it difficult to support the expenses incurred along the way. Our long-term care insurance is a good example. Except for the first 90 days, it has covered every penny of her care for the past 5 ½ years. That amounted to almost $20,000 a year in the first three years. During that time, we had in-home care 4 hours a day, 3 days a week. The past two years that has totaled more than $70,000 a year. That covered 8 hours a day 7 days a week. Fortunately, our policy has no cap on the amount of money or any limit on the number of years it will continue to pay although it does have a daily cap of $330.
  • For two years I directed a master’s degree program for counselors who worked with alcohol and drug abusers. In addition, I was active for almost ten years in our church’s Stephen Ministry, a program that assists church members who face a variety of personal, family, and work-related difficulties. I believe these experiences have made me more sensitive in my role as Kate’s caregiver.
  • There is one other thing that was especially important. Prior to Kate’s diagnosis, we spent 21 consecutive years caring for all four of our parents and my dad’s significant other following my mother’s death. Three of them had dementia. Kate’s mother lived in our home for 5 ½ years with 24/7 in-home care. My dad was the only one living at the time of Kate’s diagnosis. He was in skilled nursing following a stroke.

This experience gave us a good bit of knowledge about health issues, medications, professional in-home care providers as well as long-term care facilities. We were far from knowing it all, but we began with greater familiarity with caregiving and dementia than most people facing our situation. That made a difference in how we approached “Living with Alzheimer’s.” I’ll say more about that in my next post.

The Importance of Family for Kate and Me

During the early years of Kate’s Alzheimer’s, I read an article that dealt with the value of caregivers having “a team.” The author meant a team of professionals, especially medical, legal, and financial. I’ve taken that seriously and extended that to a large percentage of the people I encounter every day. That includes all of our friends and acquaintances as well as servers in restaurants and strangers that offer gestures of kindness. Our team has grown significantly since we moved to a continuing-care retirement community a little over a year and a half ago. Both the residents and staff have played a vital role in our lives.

Although all of our family members live out of state, they, too, have played a key role on our team. Most of our contact involves email and phone calls, but they also visit us.

Initially, Kate didn’t want to tell anyone about her diagnosis. As time passed, I realized the value of knowing about her Alzheimer’s. The moment the doctor gave us the test results, the two of us began to make the most of whatever time remained for us. More than we had done previously, we began to focus on enjoying every minute together. It has paid great dividends and is still doing so twelve years later.

I wanted our children to have the same benefit, so I finally told them. I’ve never regretted it. Telling them was the catalyst that opened the door to something I had long believed was an important parental responsibility – to include children as partners in the last chapters of our lives. From that day to the present, I’ve kept them fully informed of the ups and downs we experience. They have responded in kind. They call frequently to see how we are doing, and their visits give them a personal glimpse of our lives. Had I not told them and kept them up to date, I would have missed out on having the most important members of my team.

I was prompted to comment on their contributions because both of our children paid us a recent visit. It was a particularly nice one. They have been here a number of times and are beginning to know other residents and staff. They have a much clearer appreciation of the benefits we receive here. They supported our move from the moment I mentioned that I was thinking about it. They are also happy and, perhaps, relieved that we live in a place that provides so much support. They don’t have to worry about us as much as they might have if we were still living in our home.

Most importantly, they enjoyed their time with Kate. They were here for several days which gave them an opportunity to observe her special moments and see some of the same qualities they recall from childhood.

We don’t know exactly what challenges lie ahead of us, but I am most appreciative of the support we have from our family. That is one more reason “Living with Alzheimer’s” has been easier for us than it is for many other couples, and I am very grateful.

“Living with Covid” While “Living With Alzheimer’s”

It’s been a little more than two-and-a-half years since Covid invaded our world. We all have stories we can tell about the ways in which that has affected us. Kate and I are no exception.

Although Covid has had a continuous impact on us, there are three specific events that are worth mentioning. The first occurred in mid-March 2020. That’s when restaurants and other businesses began to close. Prior to that, Kate and I had been eating out for lunch and dinner every day for eight or nine years. It made life easier for us than my preparing dinner and gave me more quality time with Kate. Along the way, we also went to Panera almost every morning where Kate got a muffin. In the afternoon, we often went to the café at Barnes & Noble. The greatest benefit of these daily routines was preventing us from being socially isolated. We often saw friends at these locations and became acquainted with servers, managers, and other personnel.

The pandemic brought that to an abrupt end. During the first week or two of the pandemic, Kate also lost her ability to work jigsaw puzzles on her iPad. That was her last remaining self-initiated activity. Daily living suddenly became less exciting for both of us. As Kate’s caregiver, that meant I had to work harder to keep her occupied.

The change in our active routine left her bored much of the time. She started napping more throughout the day. I read to her and played music for her, but that wasn’t enough. I also gave her tours of our house, pointing out pictures and furniture that had some connection to her and her family or to special events in our lives.

In spite of my efforts, there were moments when she wasn’t engaged in any activity. That led to her resting more during the day. We had lost a significant portion of the experiences that had given us so much pleasure before.

Of course, the biggest impact of Covid was that both of us tested positive for the virus just before Thanksgiving in 2020. Kate was in the hospital for eight days without me. The experience was traumatic for her. She was so frightened when she returned home that we were unable to get her out of bed for seven weeks. Before getting Covid, she was already on the verge of losing her mobility. Being in bed for so long pushed her over the edge. She has never walked since.

Our third experience with Covid began almost two weeks ago when I tested positive for the second time even though I had received all of the vaccinations and boosters. It’s been a mild case. My only symptom was a sore throat. The policy here in our retirement community is for people with Covid to stay in their apartments for the first five days. For the next five days, you can leave the apartment if you are wearing a mask, but you can’t eat in any of the campus venues.

The social isolation we experienced was reminiscent of the early days of Covid when we could no longer go out to eat. This appears to have had a greater impact on me than on Kate. I miss the contact with other residents and staff. They have played a major role in our lives since we moved here a year and eight months ago. I miss that and will be eager to get back to our normal routine starting today. That’s just in time for a visit from our daughter and son this weekend. We’ll have much to celebrate.

My biggest concern has been the possibility of Kate’s getting the virus. By now, it looks like she has escaped. The biggest and best surprise is that she had four or five outstanding days while we were restricted to our apartment. Not surprisingly, much of that involved music. In addition, however, she has been talking more. That has been especially noticeable with two of her caregivers. One of those is our primary caregiver with whom she feels quite comfortable.

On Sunday, one of our weekend caregivers took an extended amount of time to go through one of Sarah’s family photobooks with her. Kate didn’t seem to notice the photos, but the caregiver told her about the information explaining them. Kate not only took an interest, but she also began to talk to the caregiver. The next thing I knew they were having a semblance of a normal conversation. It wasn’t completely normal because much of what Kate said was impossible to understand. This was especially striking to me because Kate has never shown any special connection or feeling for either of our weekend caregivers.

The story doesn’t end there. When it was time for dinner the conversation ended. Kate took the caregiver’s hand and kissed it. Then after getting Kate into bed, the caregiver told her goodbye. I said, “Wasn’t it nice to have Malia with us today?” Kate looked up at her and said, “Thank you.”

Last night, we had a wonderful time together. Like any other night, we watched YouTube music videos, but there was a difference. Kate has never been as enthusiastic about symphonic music as I have, but last night I played Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 and Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5 back-to-back. She loved both works, and I was thrilled.

As the music played, I did two things that I believe facilitated her response. First, I explained what was happening as the orchestra moved from one movement to another. For example, at the last portion of both symphonies, I let her know that the music was going through a buildup to the grand finale when the tempo would increase and the music would be much louder. Second, in several portions of the music, I emphasized the rhythm by audibly saying things like “bump da da bump da da bump, bump, bump.” At the same time, I held her hand and moved her arm back and forth. She was fully engaged and laughing. I hope we’ll be able to repeat our performance again soon.

Thus, I am coming to the end of our quarantine with a good feeling that Kate appears to have missed Covid, and she has had an extraordinary series of moments that have been very special to both of us. Life is good, and I am grateful.

A Brief Update

Once again, I find that I am behind on another blog post. On top of my usual excuses is that I’ve had computer problems that were finally solved yesterday. During the past two weeks, my computer wouldn’t connect to our Wi-Fi network or any other one. In the meantime, I’ve been occupied with Kate (many good moments) and other personal issues like an infection in one of my toes and pain on the right side of my other foot. Those involved several doctor’s visits that have solved most of the problems.

The best news is that Kate’s improvement has continued over the past few months. That has given us more quality time together which has boosted my spirits greatly. I’ve been particularly pleased that our evenings are once again very special times. Our love for each other is more consistently evident now than in quite a long time.

I continue to be pleased with our new primary caregiver (8 hours daily from Monday through Friday). I feel less stressed now than I did a few months ago, and my blood pressure is staying at normal levels. Prior to replacing the previous primary caregiver, my blood pressure was bouncing periodically to higher levels than those to which I had been accustomed.

I feel the need to stress again that I don’t mean that her Alzheimer’s is any better than before, only that she is more comfortable and at ease, than she had been since her hospitalization with Covid almost two years ago in November 2020. That, our move a few months later, and then a stroke were all significant events that brought about dramatic changes in our lives. It hasn’t been easy. Some of those changes have been permanent, for example, Kate now requires total care with all her ADLs (activities of daily living). Our world is much smaller now; however, we continued to enjoy life and each other. And I am grateful.