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A Visit With Nashville Friends

We drove to Nashville yesterday afternoon to have dinner with longtime friends Jan and Scott Greeley. Kate and Scott have known each other since infancy. Their mothers were friends and pregnant with the two of them at the same time. We spent the night in a hotel and will have lunch with them before going home this afternoon.

It had been about six months since we last saw them. Kate has changed so much since then that I was eager for us to visit before she declines much more. I am glad we did. This was the first visit with any of our friends in which Kate’s changes have been so obvious. I had already prepared them in terms of conversation with her. What I hadn’t done was to let them know of her physical changes as well. In fact, it is something I have only mentioned in passing in my blog. They discovered this before we even got in the house.

They saw us drive up and came out to greet us. We walked up two or three steps to enter their house. Kate is fearful of falling, and she struggled to get up the steps and into the house. She also expressed audible expressions of anguish. This, too, is something that is common. As we entered the house she wanted to hold my hand. This is something that has become increasing common just in the past few weeks. She is very unsure of herself in unfamiliar places. It’s more than a fear of falling. She doesn’t know where she is going, so she holds my hand to guide her.

Over the past few days, I had been trying to refresh her memory about our relationship with them. Of course, I know that she can’t remember, but I wanted to try anyway. It was of no use. Even after reminders as we got close to their house, she had no idea where we were going and who we would see. For the most part, she handled herself well. I don’t think she said or did anything that suggested she didn’t know them. I believe she felt a general sense of familiarity with them but not as strongly as I had hoped.

The Greeleys are making a trip to New Zealand in December and had asked me to bring pictures from our visit there in 2014. We chatted about hour before looking at our slides. Kate was tired and wanted to lie down. She took a seat in a lounge chair and rested while we continued the slide show. When we were finished, we walked into the den where Kate was resting. Scott said something, and Kate said, “You’re a pretty nice guy, and I don’t even know who you are.”

Going out to eat gave the Greeleys another sign of her physical challenges. There was nothing dramatic, but she walked very slowly. She was unsure of herself as we entered the restaurant. She wanted to hold my hand most of the way to our table. Getting into and out of the booth she seemed like a person much older than she is.

I find moments like this to be sad ones. Because of their history together, Kate has always felt very close to Scott. It was sad that she couldn’t remember him. He and Jan gave her two photos taken when the two of them were in high school. I will put them in the three-ring binder that I call her memory book, although they didn’t prompt the enthusiasm that I would have liked. Kate has clearly reached a new stage.

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Confusion and Frustration

Yesterday was unusual in that the day began without a lot of apparent confusion. I mean that she was happy from the start and didn’t ask my name or hers or where we were the entire day. On the other hand, she experienced a good bit of confusion and frustration late in the day.

As often happens, she asked what she could do when we got home from lunch. I gave her the usual options of working on her iPad or looking at her photo books. She chose the iPad and walked over to the sofa. She asked if she could lie down. I told her that would be fine. Then she wanted to know if she could take off her shoes. Again, I told her that was fine.

This was about 2:00. She spent a little over two hours resting. I believe she was awake most of the time. At least once, it looked like she was asleep. Shortly after 4:00, she looked over at me. I asked if she would like to go out for ice cream. I was sure she would say yes, but she said no. She wanted to continue resting.

After another ten minutes, I asked if she would like for us to look through one of her photo books together. She liked that, and we spent the next forty-five minutes looking at the album of her mother’s family. This time was different. She was really working to remember who each person was as well as all the accompanying information as if she were preparing for a test. Since she was unable to remember any of these things for even a few seconds, she kept asking me to repeat what I had just told her. We spent a good ten minutes just trying to learn the names of the four members of her mother’s family whose picture was on the cover. I think we only got to move forward because I flipped to the opening page, and she focused on it. Despite the trouble she was having, we went through the entire book before I suggested we go to dinner.

After dinner, she usually wants to remain in the family room for an hour or so before going to our bedroom. Not so last night. She wanted to go directly to the bedroom where she began to work on her iPad.

She quickly ran into problems. Usually the most common problem is her getting into the store when she wants to get a new puzzle. She has a hard time remembering that all she has to do is touch one of the puzzles that are pictured. Instead, she touches a button in the top right-hand corner of the screen. That takes her to the store. This happened several times, but the bigger problem was simply figuring out how to put the pieces in their proper places.

We both became frustrated when I couldn’t explain that some pieces have a flat side that goes next to the edge that defines the area where the pieces should be placed. I was never able to get her to understand. When I tried to show her the line that makes a frame around the space where the pieces are to go, she simply couldn’t see it. This is another instance in which her vision is a major part of the problem. It was more than that, however. She couldn’t grasp that the flat side of a puzzle piece must go along the edge of the frame/border. Finally, I suggested she look at one of her photo books.

I went to the family room and brought back the “Big Sister” album. It has always been a winner. Kate’s interest begins with the cover photo. She recognized the two children as her and her brother Ken. I thought we might be off to a good start except that she didn’t comment on their smiles. They are normally the major drawing point for her.

She looked at the picture a moment. Then she asked me what she was supposed to do with it (the photo album). I said, “Just open it and look at the pictures.” She said, “How do you do that?” (She occasionally gets confused about books or magazines. She thinks they work like her iPad. Sometimes she is confused about opening her iPad as well.) I opened the book. She asked, “What do I do now?” I said, “This is a book of family photos. You just look at them and then turn the page to get other pictures.” She said, “Show me how.” I knelt down beside her chair and asked her to look at the pictures on that page. She looked, but she had a blank stare on her face. I couldn’t detect any sign of recognition or interest. It was as though all she could see was a page with a bunch of stuff on it, something I understand is a common experience for someone with dementia.

She wanted my help, and I proceeded to express the comments that she usually make when she has looked at the album on previous occasions. I was careful to talk about the smiles or the photos where there were no smiles. I identified each of the people in the pictures. As we focused on each picture, she kept wanting to touch the picture the way she touches the screen of her iPad. She couldn’t understand that the pleasure she could get from the photos was just looking at them. I tried to help her for about ten minutes before she said she was tired and suggested she might be able to understand better in the morning.

I helped her get ready for bed and put on a Barbra Streisand album that she likes. I left the room for a few minutes. When I returned, she said something about the woman. I would have thought that she was talking about Streisand because she often asks who is singing, but it sounded like she was talking about a woman who was in the house. I asked her what woman she was talking about. It was Streisand after all. She told me she had been talking to her. It is not unusual for her to ask me if I am the one singing when she hears a man’s voice. I guess she thought Streisand was in the room with her. I didn’t try to get her to explain any further.

The experiences of the day were further evidence (as though I needed it) that Kate is on a steeper decline than in the past. I was quite troubled by her difficulty with her puzzles and the photo book. These have been two great sources of entertainment for her. I am sure that working on the iPad will be a thing of the past in the upcoming weeks or months. I hope I am wrong. I am more optimistic about the photo books. As she uses the iPad less, she may experience less confusion about what to do with her photo books. In addition, I expect her interest in family will continue a long time to come.

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Kate’s Last Pedicure

Kate has always enjoyed manicures and pedicures, and I have periodically taken her for both since her diagnosis. Now, however, she no long remembers the procedures and the little things she is supposed to do. The last couple of times I have stayed with her the whole time just in case she needed my help. It has worked out, but her insecurity on the previous visit made me more cautious. I made an appointment yesterday afternoon.

When we entered the salon, a different person was at the reception desk, so I pulled out one of my Alzheimer’s cards and slipped it to her. Although that was in advance of any problems, it turned out to be a good thing. I walked her back to the chair to help her get seated. Existing customers were in the seats on either side of her. It turned out getting in the chair was an ordeal. That was partially due to the fact that she had to go up a high step to get into it. The other part involves her eyesight and difficulty understanding directions. She apparently couldn’t see or didn’t recognize the chair itself. Despite my efforts to direct her by putting my hand on the seat of the chair and trying to get her to face it, she struggled to understand what we were asking. I should add that the woman who was to give her the pedicure and the woman sitting in the chair to her right were also trying to instruct and guide her. Although we were all trying to help, I suspect we added a measure of confusion. During this process, Kate let out a scream that was easily heard throughout the salon. All eyes were on her. That was just the beginning.

As luck would have it, the woman next to her was a retired nurse and very understanding. She introduced herself and explained the procedures Kate experienced. That began with the warm water running into the tub at her feet. She was frightened at first. The nurse had a very soothing voice that put Kate at ease at least as much as she could in what had to be a strange situation for her. I thought that at some point she would have some sense of familiarity with the process, but that never happened.

I brought Kate’s iPad to her chair; however, I put it down on a step to her side in our effort to get her seated. She didn’t realize it was there. It wasn’t long before she wanted it. The nurse gave her a magazine. I realized she was looking for her iPad and went over and gave it to her. I think the nurse was surprised that she was able to work an iPad. I wasn’t in a position to explain that she has only minimal capability to work her puzzles and that, with some difficulty. It didn’t take long for her to see that for herself. Kate finished one puzzle but didn’t know how to get to the next one. As usual, she made her way into the store. The nurse looked over at me and said she didn’t know how to help her. I intervened and showed her.

We had been there quite a while, when I noticed that Kate and the nurse were talking. The nurse mouthed that she was looking for her “mother.” I am sure she was looking for me and just said mother. She frequently mixes gender and relationships. The nurse showed Kate where I was sitting. She waved to me, and I waved back. A little later, the nurse called me again. This time Kate had taken her feet out of the tub of water. The nurse explained that the water was to soften the skin on the bottom of her feet so that they could smooth it out. Kate didn’t understand. I went to her and explained that she needed to put her feet back in the tub. She did, but it was only a minute or two before the attendant began her work.

That was when the “fun” started. Not knowing what was to come, Kate screamed again and responded audibly while the attendant rubbed the bottom of her heal. I went back to her and helped to calm her and then went back to my seat. In a few minutes, it was time for the other foot. Once again, she was surprised by the experience. I stayed with her for a while. When she was calm again, I took my seat in the waiting area that was about twenty feet across the room and clearly visible to Kate who waved to me periodically.

Finally, it was time to leave. It turned out that getting out of the chair and descending the step was a bigger problem than getting in. Anticipating that she would need my help, I was in place when she was ready. The first problem was standing up from a sitting position. That has become increasingly difficult at home and restaurants. This was a little more frightening for her because the chair was elevated so far off the floor. Kate is very insecure about going down curbs and stairs. To her this must have seemed like jumping off a cliff. All this was accompanied by a variety of audible sounds. As with other moments during the process, all eyes were on Kate.

As we walked out the door, Kate said, “Let’s get out of here.” I think most of the other people in the salon thought of their personal experience as a treat. Far from it for Kate. In the car, I apologized for putting her in this situation and mentioned that we might go back for a manicure sometime. She quickly said, “I don’t ever want to go back there.”

The personnel and the nurse next to Kate were very understanding. I don’t know how the others took it. I only gave my Alzheimer’s cards to the receptionist and the nurse. In my haste to leave, I didn’t think to give one to the woman on the other side of Kate and ask her to pass it around. I wish that I had because I did notice soft laughter among the group. I admit that from their vantage point, it was funny, but it was a sad moment for me. It’s been almost two months since I had to discontinue her bi-weekly massages. Now the mani-pedis. I wonder what is next.

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Creating Happy Moments

As I have mentioned before, I have two primary goals in caring for Kate: To keep her safe and to keep her happy. For the most part neither of those goals has been especially challenging. I am, however, finding it more difficult to keep her happy. I think that is only natural with the progression of Alzheimer’s. In the early stages, Kate could easily entertain herself. Apart from the routine activities in which we were involved together or those with her friends, she had three different things she did on her own. The one that occupied the largest portion of her time was her yard. Weather permitting, she sometimes spent as long as five or six hours in a day tending to her plants and shrubs. As the shrubbery began to die from her excessive pruning (“pulling leaves”), she gave up working in the yard two or three ago.

She also edited photos on her computer for what she intended to be a photo book of our family. Although she wanted to include a good bit of text to provide a fuller account of our lives, she never wrote anything. Instead, she would often say to me when we were talking about our lives together, “Remember that. That goes in the book.” Though less frequent now, she still says that occasionally. Originally, she spent as much or more time on the computer as she did in the yard, but it became increasingly difficult for her to operate. That dropped out of her life about four or five years ago.

That left her with her iPad on which she works jigsaw puzzles. In recent years, she has spent up to seven or eight hours a day on that. Now she is encountering much more difficulty. I fear that ability will soon be gone. That requires me to spend more time entertaining her. Yesterday was a good example.

When she woke up, she was not as warm and friendly as she sometimes is. She joked with me, but it grew out of a feeling I had rushed heer and took on a more serious, than humorous, tone. I often joke with her, but I back off in situations like that. My joking tends to exacerbate the problem. Knowing that we would soon leave for lunch, I didn’t say much. I simply responded to her needs in getting dressed. I knew I could depend on the car ride of about twenty minutes and could play music all the way to lunch.  We didn’t talk much at all in the car. When we did, it involved references to the music. Once we were at the restaurant, she was fine.

When we returned home, she wanted to work on her iPad. I joined her in the family room and put on some music she would enjoy. After an hour or so, she asked for my help. As soon as I started to help, it was clear that she was more confused than usual. It wasn’t that she had pressed the wrong button. Somehow she thought she was supposed to spell someone’s name and couldn’t do it because there were only scattered puzzle pieces on the screen. She didn’t see any letters. I tried to explain, but she didn’t understand. She kept talking as though there was another person in the house (a woman). She thought her name was Carol. When I couldn’t help, I suggested that she take a break from her puzzles and look at one of her photo albums. It wasn’t long before she was engaged with the photos in the Big Sister album.

We did that for a little while, but I was on my knees beside her chair and got tired. I suggested we move to the sofa where I could sit next to her. She enjoys looking at her albums by herself, but she seems to appreciate them more when I do it with her. That is because I am able to identify all the people and situations. I fill in lots of information she couldn’t remember on her own. It was a happy moment for both of us, and we went through the entire 140 pages.

We had a similar experience after dinner. On several occasions lately, I have played the soundtrack from the movie Annie. It’s an album that we both enjoy. That prompted me to look for the movie on YouTube. I found it, and we watched a portion of it a couple of nights ago. Last night, I turned it on again. Kate was interested but started working puzzles on her iPad. It wasn’t long before she needed my help. She was having a similar problem to the one she had earlier in the afternoon. She didn’t now what to do with the scattered puzzle pieces. When I pulled up a new puzzle, she was worried that she might “mess things up.” I felt sad for her since she obviously recognized that she does mess things up. I assured her she wouldn’t create a problem but decided once again to take a break from the iPad and look at another photo album.

The one I chose was a book focusing on her father’s family. It is a book that we have looked at many times and contains information starting with her grandparents. Because she was already confused, I decided not to read everything. I simply gave her an abbreviated version of the text. I told her about her grandparents moving to Texas with their families, getting married, having children and ultimately moving to Fort Worth where Kate was born. She hadn’t remembered a thing about this album. She thanked me profusely for telling her and said she had never known these things before. As we went through the album, she told me she wanted me to remember that “for the book.” She looked at me very seriously and said, “I want you to help me with this. I want it to be very good. Don’t let me mess it up.” I told her I would, but, of course, I know that she will never be able to create the book she has wanted to make for so long. My heart went out to her when she expressed her fear that she might mess up the book if she did it on her own. Even at this late stage in her Alzheimer’s, she knows she has a problem.

The video had been playing all the time we were looking at the pictures. Although she was excited about looking at more photos, she was beginning to tire. Then one of the songs in Annie caught her attention. We both started watching, and I began to give her a commentary on what we were seeing. That seemed to help her understand what was going on, and she enjoyed the rest of the movie.

Thus, we ended the day on a happy note. It was a day that was punctuated by ups and downs in Kate’s mood, but each time I was able to lift her up with the aid of music, photos, and a video. It reminds me again of how fortunate Kate and I are. I think about the people living with Alzheimer’s who aren’t entertained all day, who have caregivers that have other responsibilities that prevent the kind of continuous care that Kate receives. I also think about the people with dementia who don’t respond to such entertainment in the same way that Kate does. It has to be so hard for their caregivers.

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Signs of Greater Dependence

When I went in to wake Kate yesterday, I saw that her eyes were open. I spoke to her. At first, she didn’t express any emotion. I walked closer and told her good morning. She smiled. I was glad to see that. We were off to a good start. Her smile soon turned to a look of puzzlement. It was the look that meant she was confused. I sat down on the bed. I said, “You look like you’re wondering where you are.” She didn’t say anything. I proceeded to give her my name and hers. She said, “Where are we?” I told her we were in our bedroom and told her to look around the room, that she might see something familiar. She glanced but didn’t give me any sign that she saw anything she recognized.

I talked with her a few minutes and then suggested that she get up so that I could take her to lunch. Getting up from the bed or a chair is beginning to be more difficult. As I helped her up, she screamed. She felt a pain in her right knee. That is the one with the arthritis. This was the first time she has felt any pain in a year; however, this was different than before. This time it was short-lived. Once she was on her feet, the pain subsided, and she didn’t complain of any pain after that. I took her to the bathroom to use the toilet and brush her teeth.

I showed her the toilet, but as often happens, she didn’t recognize it. I asked her to take a seat. Then she said, “That’s it.” She washed her hands and then started to brush her teeth. I went to the kitchen to take care of a few things. It wasn’t long before I heard our housekeeper tell her that I was in the kitchen. I walked into the family room where the two of them were standing. When she saw me, her eyes brightened, and she had the biggest smile you can imagine. She said, “There he is.” I walked toward her, and she almost ran to me. She reached her arms out to me and we embraced. Then she gave a great sigh of relief. I said, “So Linda told you where I was?” She said, “She did?” Then she looked at Linda, tears filled her eyes. She thanked her and gave her a big hug. To me, this is one more striking example of her increasing dependence on me. There have been times in the past few years when I lost her for a period of time, once for three hours in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario. She wasn’t bothered at all. I was the one who was panicked. This time we were not more than fifty feet apart (though she couldn’t understand that) in our own house, and our separation was only minutes.

It also seems to me that she is more responsive to my suggestions. For example, she hasn’t been as slow to respond when I tell here it is getting to be bedtime. She is also decidedly more accepting of my help in dressing and holding her hand when we are walking to and from the car.

I can’t help wondering what comes next?

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Fading Away

These days I see unexpected changes in Kate’s behavior and mood. In some cases, they are new things. More typically, they are things I have observed before. The difference is that they are becoming more frequent. At dinner last night, we had a conversation about our children and the good times we had had during our marriage. Moments later, she didn’t know my name or that I am her husband. Again, this is not something entirely new. It’s the abruptness with she moves from clarity to confusion.

Last night, I saw a message from a man who felt his wife was fading away. I can relate to that. I have had this sense for years. Now it feels like the end is so much closer, and it is.

The other day before leaving the house for the hair salon, she went to the bathroom. When she came out, she said, “I’ll never do that again.” I don’t know what she was talking about, but she was wiping her hands. Fifteen minutes later at the salon, she asked me if they had a restroom. I told her they did, and she wanted me to take her. She looked a little frightened as we walked through the salon. When I opened the door for her, she said, “You better come with me.” Once inside, she spent her time washing her hands and her arms, taking much longer than I would have thought necessary. I didn’t see why she wanted me with her. I know she has had other experiences when she didn’t know what to do in a restroom. One time she tried to exit through a locked door to a supply room. In that case, our server helped her get to the correct door. Another time she locked herself in and couldn’t unlock the door. The experience at the salon made me suspect she was feeling particularly insecure. It also appears there was some connection with her statement at home that she would “never do that again” and her washing her hands and arms at the salon. Did she accidentally put something on her hands at home that she still needed to get off? I have no idea. I don’t know of anything (like a household cleanser) in the bathroom at home. It’s another mystery.

I see signs of change at home and everywhere we go. She sometimes forgets where her toothpaste and toothbrush are even though I now keep them on the counter in the bathroom where they are quite visible.

At lunch yesterday, I mentioned that we would have pizza last night. She didn’t recognize “pizza.” I gave her a description, and she still had no idea what I was talking about. She picked up a slice of a black olive that was with her meal. She said, “I like this.” I told her it was an olive. That didn’t mean anything to her.

Her dependence on me continues to increase. At lunch, I said something about someone who had died. In a moment, and with a look of concern, she said, “What would happen to me if something happened to you?” I reminded her that my dad had lived to 100 and suggested I might do the same. Her question, however, had a tone of greater concern that deserved a more serious reply. I reminded her that our son is in the elder care business and was quite familiar with all the resources and issues related to seniors. I told her he would step in and care for her and that would mean she would probably move to Texas to be near him. She gave a sigh of relief and said she felt better knowing that. That is just another sign of her awareness of her dependency.

She has always been appreciative of the things I do for her, but she has moments when her expressions are more excessive than before. When we left the hair salon the other day, she said, “You’re a nice guy, a really nice guy, and I mean that.” In the car she said, “You are the best man I know.” Near the house, she said, “Do you know who is most important?” I said, “Who?” She said, “You are.” This was one of those happy/sad moments. I am happy that she feels more secure with me, but I am sad for her to experience the insecurity that makes her need me.

At home we looked through a portion of the “Big Sister” album. She got tired and wanted to rest. While resting on the sofa, she asked, “Where are we right now?” I told her we were in our very own house. She said, “The inside?” She really is fading away now. I don’t know what she will be like in the next few months.

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Something New

About 7:30 yesterday morning, I noticed on the video cam that Kate was sitting up in bed. She had stern look on her face. I asked if she wanted to go to the bathroom. She said no. I said, “What would you like to do? I would be glad to help.” She motioned me to sit in the chair beside the bed and said, “You start.” I said, “Start what?” She said quite firmly, “You know.” I told her I really didn’t and that maybe she had just had a dream about something. She was emphatic that she wasn’t dreaming. Again, she told me “to start.” I told her I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say. She said, “Then why are you here?” That led me to take another approach. I told her my name and her name. Then I proceeded to tell her about our meeting and our courtship at TCU. I gave her a synopsis of our getting married, going to graduate school, jobs, having children, and the places we had lived right to the present. As I talked, she started smiling. Her mood began to change. When I got to the end of my story, I said, “We’ve been happily married for fifty-six years, and I love you very much.” She smiled and said, “I love you too.”

I gave her a hug and asked what she would like to do now. She said, “I don’t know.” I told her it was just 8:00 and that she usually liked to sleep a little longer. She told me that is what she wanted to do. I pulled back the cover, and she got back in bed. She slept until 10:00 when she got up for good. She was in a good mood and expressed no confusion at all. She was ready to go early enough that we were able to spend some time at Panera before going to lunch. I will never know what caused her to be irritated with me when she first woke up. I just hope it doesn’t happen again. If it does, I will probably take the same approach, that is, just talk about things that get her to think about the good times we have had.

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The Day After

Following the “Very Good Day” day before yesterday, we were back to what I might call the new normal. It’s probably more accurate to say there is simply less predictability in our daily lives than there used to be. The expression “remarkably well” continues to be a good summary, but Kate is definitely not the same as she was even six or eight weeks ago.

I was encouraged when I went in to wake her. As the day before, she was already awake and gave me a nice smile. She was fine until I tried to help her out of bed. She wanted to do it without my assistance. I backed off, but the damage was done. From that point until nearly the time we left the house for lunch, she seemed both irritated with me and afraid. It wasn’t that she was afraid of me. I think it was a case of fear from not knowing where she was, who I was, who she was, or what she should do. She held on to me as we walked to the bathroom. When we got there, she didn’t know what to do. I pointed to the toilet and said, “Why don’t you go to the bathroom first. Then you can wash your hands and brush your teeth. That was too much information. I know better than to do that, but it was too late to take it back. That didn’t set well with her. She was not only irritated but confused. When she was ready, she said, “I don’t know what to do. Just tell me.” I put toothpaste on her toothbrush and handed it to her. She dropped the toothbrush in the sink, and the toothpaste came off. I told it came off and would get her some more. The same thing happened a second time. She felt I had rushed her and strongly expressed her irritation with me. Then she apologized for the way she had spoken to me and started to cry. I tried to calm her and was mostly successful, but it wasn’t until we were on the way to lunch that her emotion subsided.

The rest of the day went well. We had a nice time at lunch,, during the balance of the afternoon, and at dinner. Then on the way home from dinner last night, Kate said, “Where do you live?” I said, “Right here in Knoxville. I’m taking you home right now. You can spend the night with me.” She answered, “You mean the three of us.” I said, “Who is the third?” She gave me a look of irritation and said, “You know who.” I didn’t pursue it any further. I’ve learned that I never get an answer when she says that.

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More Signs of Change

I notice lots of little things that suggest Kate’s brain is undergoing more significant changes. If they were isolated things, I wouldn’t think much about it. It’s the accumulation of so many in a relatively short period of time that strikes me most. Consider the following things that have occurred over the past few days.

On the way home from dinner a few nights ago, she said, “My house or yours?” I said, “Yours.” I didn’t explore this any further, but this was something new. She often doesn’t recognize I am her husband or recognize our house, but I’ve never heard her refer to her house or mine. What was she thinking that prompted this? I don’t know. That’s true for many of the things she says or does.

Walking to the car after dinner last night, she said, “I wouldn’t want to have their job.” I asked who she was talking about. She said, “You know those people with the ‘stuffies.’” She knew that wasn’t the right word but couldn’t think of the word she wanted. She counts on me to know what she means. As usual, I just indicated I understood and agreed with her.

She was up early yesterday. I think she must have had a dream because she was worried about having to be some place. I assured her that she didn’t have any obligations and could go back to bed.

While she was resting on the sofa that afternoon, she said, “Do I have to go some place? A meeting or something?” She seemed quite concerned. I told her she didn’t have anything on her schedule. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes and pointed in the direction of the door to the kitchen and asked, “What’s in there?” I mentioned several things. They were not what she meant and seemed frustrated that I didn’t immediately recognize what she was talking about. I told her the kitchen was on the other side of the doorway and the laundry room to the right of that. Nothing I said gave her the answer she wanted, and she gave up asking.

She has also been talking in her sleep more than usual. She doesn’t say much. Often it is like a simple statement or answer to a question that someone in her dream has asked.

Her intuitive abilities seem to be in overdrive sometimes, but that is a good thing. It usually means she is deriving pleasure from things around her– flowers, plants, and trees in particular. Some of her aesthetic interests are a little strange, but they, too, provide pleasure. She takes greater interest in tidiness and the arrangements of things than in the past. She is often careful about the way she places her flatware, glass and napkin on the table at restaurants. Yesterday as we walked through the laundry room to the garage, she noticed a washcloth I had put out to dry. She liked the way it looked. A few weeks ago, she asked me to take a picture of the cloth napkin she had used at a restaurant. She had just dropped it on the table and thought it looked a little like a sculpture. Although I wouldn’t have thought about it until she said so, I agreed with her and took the photo. At her request, I take more pictures these days.

For years, she has not wanted to stay anyplace, including home, for more than a couple of hours. That was a main reason we started going to the café at Barnes & Noble in the afternoon. Now we usually chooses to stay at home most afternoons. On the other hand, sometimes in the morning she says, “Let’s get out of here.” I assume that is a time when she thinks we are staying at some other place than our home.

I believe the primary reason for wanting to spend more time at home relates to her resting more. She seems more tired these days. I notice, however, that it is not necessarily sleep that she needs. Yesterday, for example, she rested two hours or more with her eyes open and running her fingers through her hair. She often spends almost that amount of time doing the same thing after going to bed at night.

Something of greater significance to me is that she seems to be using her iPad somewhat less than in the past. I believe that relates directly to her feeling tired and frustrated with the difficulty she has working her puzzles. I attribute both being tired and frustrated to the changes going on in her brain. At the same time, she may be spending more time with her family photo books. She is occasionally confused when her photo books don’t work the same way as the puzzles on her iPad. She touches a photo and expects it to scatter into puzzle pieces. When it doesn’t, she doesn’t know what to do.

Despite these changes, Kate and I had a nice day yesterday. We didn’t do a lot, but we enjoyed our time together.

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Contrasting Social Situations and Kate’s Response

It seems that Kate’s current behavior is, in part, related to the situations in which she finds herself. Yesterday, she reacted very differently to two social situations. The first was lunch with our senior pastor. As I had done when we met my Twitter friend last weekend, I made sure that she was seated directly across the table from him. He was also good about including her in our conversation. Kate responded accordingly. He and I did most of the talking, but she was also an active participant. Both of us enjoyed our time together. I doubt that our pastor could see much difference in her since we had lunch together two to three months ago.

Last night was an altogether different experience. We went to Casa Bella for Broadway night. We sat at a table for ten, and the talking was louder than usual. Often when we arrive there is only one other couple with whom we sit each time. That enables her to establish a comfort level. Last night, we were the first ones there. Shortly after, the rest of the group arrived. I think this was overwhelming for Kate even though everyone was good about speaking to her.

While we were waiting for our server to bring our meal, Kate started looking around the room. She looked very concerned. She said, “Where did she go?” I said, “Who do you mean?” She said, “The woman who came with us.” I told her it was just the two of us, that nobody came with us. She didn’t seem convinced.

Until the food arrived fifteen minutes later, she was very uncomfortable. She said that she was looking for her food. I told her they were preparing it, and it would be coming soon. She continued to be very bothered and wanted me to speak with the server. At one point, she caught the eye of our server and motioned for her to come to her. Before she could ask about our meal, I told the server we were fine, and she walked away. Kate’s distress continued until the meal arrived. Then she devoted her attention to eating.

On a typical music night, Kate would have loved the music. She did respond well to two or three numbers but expressed little enthusiasm for the overall program. The singers were outstanding, but they sang a lot of Sondheim’s music. It was not as melodic as she likes. She was glad when we left.

The whole experience made me wonder what the future holds in terms of our attendance at these music nights. They have played an important part in our lives for the past six or seven years. Last night, she did not enjoy herself the way she has in the past. She seemed to be bordering on causing a scene because her food had not arrived when she thought it should. I’ll just have to play this by ear in the future. If we are going to continue sitting at a large table, I may experiment by getting a table for two. Crowds appear to be a growing problem.