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Two of Friday’s Delusions

Kate’s brain continues to work on overtime. Her delusions are rampant. Fortunately, the vast majority of them are harmless. One of those occurred in the wee hours Friday morning.

Around 2:00 a.m., I awoke when I heard her say something. Initially, I didn’t understand, but she apparently had a dream. She talked about “Them.” As she continued, I learned that they were a couple who had experienced something that seemed to bother her. She was close to being in tears and talked about thirty minutes. During that time, I asked a few questions for clarification, but it still wasn’t clear what was disturbing her. After a while, she was whimpering. I said, “Tell me what’s bothering you? Why are you unhappy?” She said, “I’m not unhappy. I’m happy for them.” She never told me exactly why, but I gathered that a couple of young people she knew had gotten married. What I thought was an expression of sadness was really joy.

The other incident happened while the sitter was here. Except for a brief time when I went to the grocery store, I remained in the house. That has become typical during our period of sheltering. Kate spent part of the time looking at a photo book and talking with Mary. Then she rested for a short time. Just before 4:00, I overheard her say something to Mary that made me think she was concerned about something. I listened more closely and heard her say she needed to go home. Mary explained that she was at home, but, of course, that didn’t work. I’ve learned that myself, but I still test it from time to time. Occasionally, it works momentarily.

A few minutes later, I went in the room to check on Kate. She was emotional when she saw me. It was one of those occasions when she felt an intense need for my help. With much relief, she said she was glad to see me. She asked if I could take her home. I said I would. Although Mary wasn’t scheduled to leave for another hour, I let her go, and Kate and I went for a ride.

This was the second time recently when we left for “home” almost fifty minutes before I was scheduled to pick up dinner from a caterer at 5:00. I am glad to report that the ride was worth it. Kate was calm in the car and forgot all about going home. We brought the dinner home and had a pleasant meal and evening afterward.

Alzheimer’s continues to pull her in different directions. That requires more attention from me. It’s not just a time issue. It’s also figuring out how to respond to each new situation. Despite having a lot of tools in my toolbox, I frequently find a need for something new. I now have a better understanding of why “Do-it-yourself” home repair people always need new tools.

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Change in the Air

Since the coronavirus came on the scene, change has become a regular part of everyone’s life. As my recent posts have suggested, Kate is no exception. I have a much harder time anticipating what a day will be like. That’s not because the good times have passed. They haven’t. They still represent a much larger percentage of our experiences than the trying, or even challenging, moments, but she definitely keeps me on my toes. Monday represents a good illustration.

The day began early, about 2:00 a.m. to be exact. It lasted off and on for the better part of two hours. I can’t recall the precise conversation. She was concerned about either a responsibility she thought she hadn’t fulfilled or what was on our agenda for the day. She asked me a few questions that I answered only to be followed a short time later with the same questions and my same answers.

Because she lost some sleep, I assumed she would get up a little later. That turned out to be a wrong assumption. About 7:30, I heard her say something just as I was going to take my morning walk. I went to the bedroom and found that she was confused but not seriously disturbed. She just wanted help understanding where she was and what she was supposed to do.

I asked if she was ready to get up. She said she didn’t know. I suggested that I take her to the bathroom. She agreed and on the way said, “Where’s my husband?” At the time, it was not a surprise, but her failure to recognize me was repeated throughout the day. It was the second time that has happened in the past week or so.

After she was dressed, I gave her a bowl of strawberries and blueberries and a glass of apple juice. For the first time, she showed little interest in either the fruit or her juice. She left half of the fruit and didn’t want any cheese toast when I offered it. She was quite talkative, however. Like other recent conversations, she didn’t realize that she was talking to me and kept saying she wished “my husband” were here to explain more of the things she talked about. We talked for an hour at the kitchen table before I assumed we would adjourn to the family room where she would rest. Wrong again.

Instead, she noticed a letter from Blue Cross on my desk. It was a communication about a medication I take for a dry eye condition. She picked it up and made an effort to read it. When we walked into the family room, she took it with her and then went into the living room. She took a seat and started reading it. I remained in the family room. I knew she wouldn’t be able to understand it but was fascinated to see how long she would try and made periodic visits to see if she was napping or reading. Each time she was trying to read with the same degree of seriousness she had shown a few days earlier when she tried to read The Velveteen Rabbit.

She came back to the family room in about twenty minutes and took a seat beside me. She started to read the letter when I noticed that she had it upside down. I asked if she wanted me to read it. She did. First, I explained what it was and that it included the company’s non-discrimination policy in nine languages besides English. I felt exactly the way I had the other day. I was glad to see her try to read but sad because she faced such an impossible task.

My Rotary club started its meetings again, and I re-established our arrangements to have a Monday sitter. She is someone who had been with us almost a year but not since September 2018, so I asked that she come an hour early to give Kate an opportunity to develop a comfort level with her before I left.

That went well, but when it was time for me to leave, Kate wasn’t comfortable about my going. She wanted to go with me. I told her the sitter be with her and that I would be back after my meeting. She wasn’t happy but accepted without a protest. I gave her a couple of her photo books to look over while I was gone.

When I returned, she was resting, but awake. I brought in groceries I had picked up on the way home from Rotary and then checked email. I heard her talking with the sitter and walked into the room. She was glad to see me. I told the sitter she could go. Then Kate and I spent time with one of her photo books.

During dinner, she said she was tired and wanted to go to bed early. She said the same thing after dinner. When we walked into our bedroom, she wanted to lie down. I suggested that she brush her teeth, put on her night clothes, and call it a day. She agreed, and I got her to bed. I watched the evening news and then put on some music for her while I took a shower.

After my shower, she began a long conversation. She was in bed when it began, but she soon took a seat on my side of the bed across from the chair in which I was sitting. I couldn’t fully understand what she was talking about, but I surmised that she thought I was a student with a part time job at whatever place she thought we were in, perhaps a hotel. I also gathered that she was trying to help me get a regular job. She asked if I knew her husband. I told her I did. She said he would be able to help by directing me to people who might be hiring. She said he was at work but would be coming home soon and repeated this a number of times. Realizing that he might not come home before I left, she asked if I had her husband’s phone number. I told her I did. Then she said, “If you run into a problem, call Richard.”

She was very eager to help me and kept repeating the whole scenario multiple times over an hour. For at least the last thirty minutes, I made an effort to close the conversation so that I could get to bed, but she continued. When she was nearly finished, she tested me to see if I remembered what she had told me to do. She said, “Now, what do you do if you run into a problem?” I told her I would call Richard. I don’t remember the other question, but I do remember the answer was to contact her. I was glad to have passed. She continued to talk and tested me one more time before the conversation ended for good.

We had what I thought was a rather amusing conclusion. I suggested we get to bed, and she asked where she was going to sleep. I pointed to her side of the bed. She was surprised. It turned out that she thought she would be going “home.” I told her she would be staying the night. She asked where I was going to sleep. I pointed to my side of the bed. She seemed a little hesitant but got in. I turned out the light and got in bed beside her. She was comfortable being with me, but she didn’t respond to me like I was her husband.

It is obvious that Kate is changing in a variety of ways. Her sleep pattern is unpredictable. She has more delusions. She has very talkative spells. As usual, the only way I can make sense out of it is to remind myself that her Alzheimer’s is a result of the plaque and tangles in her brain. They continue to grow and cause the circuits in her brain to malfunction. Regardless of the explanation, Kate is clearly changing, but I am glad to say that she is almost always kind and gentle. Just yesterday, she suddenly snapped at me because of something I said. She immediately apologized and said, “I really don’t like to be that way.” No wonder I want to give her the best care I can.

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Very Talkative at Latest Doctor’s Visit

Last week, Kate had a regular appointment with her primary care physician. She sees her doctor every four months though covid-19 delayed this one by ten weeks. The only thing that wasn’t routine was Kate’s behavior. She was unusually talkative.

As always, the doctor began by speaking directly to Kate. First, she asked a general question about how things were going. Kate said, “Fine.” Then she asked more specific questions, none of which Kate was able to answer. After the last question, the doctor asked if she could get my thoughts. I had sent her an update in advance of the visit, but I mentioned a few minor changes.

Something I said prompted Kate to jump in and say something complimentary about relationship. The medical intern who had accompanied the doctor asked how long we had been married. Kate turned to me, and I mentioned that our 57th anniversary was coming up on Sunday.

Then Kate took the lead. She began what was a lengthy (for a doctor’s appointment) description of my care for her and the closeness of our relationship. It must have surprised the doctor who had never her heard her talk so much.

It was noteworthy to me because it came after several other recent experiences at home when we have had long conversations in which she was the primary speaker. In those cases, everything was fabricated, arising out of an apparent delusion. This time it was because the subject matter is one with which she is very familiar and, thus, about which she is able to speak comfortably, if not accurately.

In a way, it both pleased and tickled me. I say pleased because it’s always nice to hear your spouse say good things about you. I also thought she beautifully conveyed the nature of our relationship to the doctor. It tickled me because she has always expressed her liking for things that are not “overdone.” I’m pretty sure that if she had been an outside observer, she would have said this went several steps too far.

At the time, I didn’t make too much of it, but since then she has been much more talkative. As I often do, I wonder why this is occurring and how much more may be in store. I reported that in the last post and plan to report more on that topic in a post about yesterday.

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Busy Days

I have felt rather busy the past three days. Most of that has involved Kate directly. Two of those days she was up early for breakfast. She rested periodically during the day, but she required more attention during those times she was up. We’ve had a full range of experiences including highs and lows.

One of the highs involves another long conversation during dinner two nights ago. Again, it was one in which I was only a listener/facilitator. It started when she asked “the name of this place.” I told her it was a house and that it had an address but not a name. Then she asked my name. The manner in which she asked told me that while she was comfortable with me, she didn’t recognize me as her husband.

She made a few comments about our home. Then I asked her to tell me about her mother. She took a moment to think. It was obvious that she couldn’t remember the information that would help her answer my question, but she did say that her mother liked to help people. That is something that she often says.

That initiated a long conversation about how people treat one another. It was a rambling conversation, much of which I didn’t understand. She frequently searched for words. What I felt was most significant about it was that she was enjoying heerself. That’s why I would consider this a Happy Moment.

The high point of that day occurred after she had been in bed for over two hours. I had just finished my shower. When I walked into the bedroom, I found her standing in front of the TV watching a YouTube video of a duet from La Boheme sung by Jonas Kaufman and Anna Netrebko. She was emotionally engaged. It’s a favorite of mine, and I stood there watching with her until the end of the duet. Although Kate and I have always enjoyed music together, her preferences have been for musical theater and less for classical, especially operatic performances. Since her diagnosis and our binging on music, her musical tastes have expanded tremendously. It has been especially pleasing to share the joy of music with her. Thus, this moment standing in front of the TV in the dark and in our night clothes was a special moment.

That wasn’t the end. The next video to play was the second movement of Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 2 played by a woman I didn’t know. That movement is another favorite of mine, one that I have included in my “soothing music playlist” I use with Kate. By this time, Kate wanted to sit down. We took a seat on the bench at the end of our bed to watch the performance. The audio alone is enchanting, but the addition of the video of the pianist and the conductor and orchestra added immensely to the intensity of feeling. When the piece ended, I turned off the TV, and we went to bed. It was a beautiful way to end the day.

We have also had some trying moments. I’m thinking specifically of getting ready for bed. Before Kate gave up her iPad, she used to work jigsaw puzzles from the time we got home from dinner until getting ready for bed. At some point, she would get tired or I would tell her it was getting to be bedtime. Then I would help her get ready. Occasionally, she was still wrapped up in her iPad and didn’t want to stop.

The loss of that activity has left a void in her schedule. She has gravitated to getting in bed shortly after dinner and, since Covid-19, after our nightly drive around town. That means she gets in bed as early as 7:15. She is rarely asleep before I get in bed between 9:30 and 10:00.

That has gone rather smoothly until the past week or two. She is still eager to get in bed, but she doesn’t want to take off the clothes she has worn all day. Most days there is no problem. When there is, I have to carefully coax her, and I am not always successful. In those cases, she can be adamant about not cooperating. We’ve had trouble the past two nights. I hope this is not going to become a serious problem.

There is one other bedtime issue. Within the past couple of weeks, she has been insistent on my running my fingers between her toes, pulling strands of her hair, and also running my hands across her body. She seems to be concerned that there are “things” between her toes or on her body that she wants removed before going to bed. The problem for me is that it often comes at a time when I am beginning to wind down. I have been complying although she doesn’t think I always take it as seriously as she thinks I should. She will demonstrate how to do it and then ask me to try again.

I know these are minor issues, and I hope they stay that way.

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A Lengthy Conversation About a Delusion

Kate is not generally a big talker, but, periodically, she surprises me. I don’t always know what prompts her talkativeness, but I do know that it often involves a delusion of some type. She had one of those yesterday. As so often happens, she had been resting on the sofa in the family room. I was seated across from her. She rested over an hour before she opened her eyes. When she saw me, she said, “You can help me.” I asked what I could do, and she said, “Come over here.” When I did, she told me to “go over there.” I walked across the room and turned around. Then she said, “Come back over here.” I walked very obediently to her again. This time she told me to take a seat and pointed to the table in front of the sofa. I sat down and asked how I could help her. That opened the door to a conversation that lasted over an hour.

At first, it was very hard to make sense of what she was saying. She acted as though there were other people in the house with us. It turned out that she was talking about a group of longtime friends. At an earlier point in life, they were very close. Over the years, however, they had developed different interests. As a result, the occasions they were together were not as much fun as they used to be. As near as I could tell, some bitterness had developed among them. She never said there was one particular person who was the problem. She did say that they had all tried to reclaim the closeness of their previous relationship, but nothing had worked.

During the course of the conversation, she drifted away from asking my help to a broader emphasis about the nature of people and their sensitivity to the actions of others. In the end, she felt there was probably nothing that could be done to help her and her longtime friends because many of the circumstances in which they found themselves were so different now. She wasn’t, however, ready to give up.

I was primarily a facilitator in the conversation. I said very little except to nod my head or agree or make a comment that indicated I was listening. Late in the conversation, I again asked how I could help. She indicated I already had by listening to her.

Conversations like this intrigue me because so much of what she says makes sense with respect to human nature and the problems we encounter. At the same time, she is obviously experiencing a delusion that represents a break with reality. It’s just one more thing for which I don’t have a good explanation. I can only say that some of the circuits in the brain are functioning while others are not. There is also a good bit of inconsistency. Sometimes a circuit works. At other times, it doesn’t. That happens for all of us, but it is more dramatic for someone with dementia.

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A Rare Conversation

Despite a few issues I wish Kate hadn’t experienced, the past week has been a good one. There is one moment that stands out . We were seated on the sofa in the family room. I think I mentioned our 57th anniversary that is coming up on May 31. We talked about the good times we’ve had together and how fortunate we have been.

I don’t remember her exact words, but she expressed appreciation for my taking care of her. She went on to talk about the problem she has and that I had helped her get through it. She never mentioned Alzheimer’s, but the way she talked it sounded like she understood she has a serious problem. She conveyed that she thought she was getting better and might get over it. It has been clear to me for a long time that she is aware she has a problem, but the tone of this particular conversation was different. In other conversations she has appeared disturbed. This time she seemed more resigned and accepting of her situation.

I told her that no matter what may happen that she could depend on me to be with her. We shared our thinking that everyone faces trials and that our relationship would be a source of strength for us.

Kate has said almost nothing about her Alzheimer’s since the first few weeks or months following the diagnosis over nine years ago. Except for my accepting the role of planner, we have put our emphasis on living in the moment. I believe that has paid many dividends in the years since. As someone who is more open about my life, I have wished many times that we could have had periodic conversations like this very brief one. Even this one was a bit oblique. At this point, she doesn’t know the real problem or what lies ahead, but it was the clearest sign of her recognition that “something” is wrong, that she is grateful for my help, and that, together, we will make the best of it. We are in complete agreement.

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Living in Kate’s World of Delusions

Kate has experienced delusions for several years, but they occur more frequently now, especially since we have been homebound. Prior to my experience with Kate, I was prone to think delusions were all bad. I am discovering that is not so. Most of Kate’s are benign. They are harmless, some puzzling, but most quite interesting and reflective of her personal values. A few have been disturbing. These have involved a belief that no one likes her, that she has done something she believes was wrong, or that she has some obligation for which she is not prepared. The most frequent delusions involve projects designed to help those who are underprivileged in some way. Often, they involve programs to educate women in third-world countries but also in the United States.

During the past 36 hours, she has had two separate but related delusions that led to unusual conversations. They were very one-sided with Kate playing the dominant role. In fact, soliloquy might be a better word than conversation. The first occurred Wednesday night when I got out of the shower. She began a conversation that lasted almost a full hour and a half during which I said very little. I played the role of facilitator by simply listening, expressing agreement, or asking questions that would lead her to say more.

The second conversation occurred yesterday morning at breakfast. Yes, I said, “Breakfast.” It was another time she had gotten up early before I had fixed my own breakfast. I took the opportunity for us to eat together, never expecting another lengthy conversation. This one was an hour.

Both of them were interesting and involved a school. In each case, she did not know my name and had not recognized me as her husband. That was true all day Wednesday and a large portion of the day yesterday. It was clear Wednesday night that she was talking to me as though I were a potential candidate to join their program. Unlike other similar delusions, she didn’t say much, if anything, about the students. Her focus was entirely on the underlying values of school for those who worked (volunteered?) there. It was a diverse workplace where everyone respected the talents and personalities of the others.

Like another conversation we had several weeks ago, she responded to me just the way she would have if she had known my name and our relationship. Like the previous one, she repeatedly referred  to her husband and used my name each time. She kept saying, “I wish Richard were here. He could give you a better idea (tell you more, etc.).” While she didn’t say much about the students, it was another example of a program designed to provide education to people who might not otherwise have gotten it.

The length and complexity of her conversation was a striking contrast with most of her delusions. She talked non-stop, though in a relaxed style, for a full hour and a half that night. Several times I suggested that we continue the conversation the next morning. She agreed the last time when I mentioned wanting to think about it and talk in the morning.

I never imagined that she would start a similar conversation the next morning, but that’s what happened as we sat down for breakfast. I was never sure that it was an extension of the previous night’s conversation, but it was strangely similar in length and complexity. She also periodically mentioned her husband (me) by name. This time it wasn’t clear if I was a candidate for a position. It sounded more like I was someone who had expressed an interest in what she was doing.

Conversations like these are rooted in delusions brought about by Alzheimer’s; however, they also involve powerful expressions of Kate’s feelings and values. I find that comforting. It reminds me that the real Kate is still here.

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Kate is Like a Child.

I suppose everyone has experienced and been delighted by the innocence of children. As a youth and during most of my adult life, I didn’t give much attention to children except for our own and those of family and friends. As I aged, I developed a greater appreciation of the gifts they bring us. They haven’t developed the sensitivity adults have about “proper” behavior. They behave and speak as if it only matters to them and no one else. They express what they feel so naturally.

Kate has always been interested in children. The nineteen years she served as our church’s volunteer librarian were especially fulfilling for her. Much of her work involved children either directly or indirectly. She would have kept her responsibilities as librarian had it not been for her Alzheimer’s. She realized before her diagnosis that she was no longer able to fulfill her position the way she thought she should and resigned.

During the past nine years, her interest in children has become a fascination for her. She enjoys watching them wherever we go and often speaks to them and compliments the parents for having such beautiful children. That has further increased my own appreciation of them.

That leads me to think about Kate. For the past three or four years, she has been somewhat more childlike herself. Increasingly, she behaves with me much like a child with her parent. That is expressed in several different ways.

The most typical example is her wanting to show me little things she has done. She seems proud of herself for what she is doing and wants my recognition. She likes me to watch as she pulls strands of her hair and runs her fingers between each of her toes to get “them” out. She asks me to look at her as she picks her teeth with her fingernails thinking there is something is stuck between them. She is sensitive about her skin and daily runs her fingers across the skin of her arms and legs and shows me her hand and says, “See them.” I try to pay attention and reinforce her belief that she is doing something good.

Above all, her most childlike qualities involve her expressions of enthusiasm for things she enjoys. Her pleasure over the beauty of flowers, trees, shrubs and house plants is the best example. The arrival of spring has brought daily moments of pleasure. She loves to share her enthusiasm with me and sometimes says, “Look at the pink (green, yellow.) “Do you see it?” I translate her question as “Won’t you share this beautifuI moment with me.” I never tire of seeing how excited she is almost every time she walks in our family room. That is particularly true when she sees the two small pots of African Violets. She also takes time to admire the four Poinsettias that have survived the winter. Occasionally, she sees the hydrangeas at the far end of the room and walks over to get a closer look. If she turns around after admiring them, she sometimes is surprised to see the Poinsettias again. I don’t ever recall seeing any sign that she is aware of having previously seen them or any of the other plants prior to that moment.

The newest source of pleasure involves her food. This has only occurred since being homebound. It seems surprising because the meals I prepare are very simple and most of our takeout meals aren’t the same caliber of those we have eaten at the restaurants. She rarely leaves anything on her plate. The exception would be the skin of apples and tomatoes as well as the crust of her bread.

She always wants to share her pleasure with me. It never dawns on her that her entrée and mine are almost always the same. Even when I tell her, she often says, “Try it. You’ll like it.” and passes her fork with a sample for me to taste.

It’s not just that she likes the food. She is animated and talks about it during a large portion of our meal. She liked her meals when we were eating out, but it was usually a special dessert that she talked about most. I never thought she was at all inhibited in a restaurant, but, perhaps, she feels even freer to talk when it is just the two of us at home.

Another possibility is that it is simply a side effect of her Alzheimer’s. She has forgotten most of the foods we eat. For a while, that was limited to a few things like pizza and pepperoni. Dr. Pepper has always been her favorite drink, and she wouldn’t drink the diet version. Now I only buy diet. It doesn’t make any difference even when she is looking at the bottle from which it was poured. She has also almost forgotten the name Dr. Pepper except to recognize it when I offer it to her. She raves about how good it is with almost every sip and then asks, “What is this?” We go through this multiple times during a meal. I suspect that is happening with all the other items on the table. As far as she knows, what she eats and drinks is always new and always good.

Some of you may be thinking, “How sad that she no longer recognizes the names of her favorite things.” You would be right. It is sad. It can be especially painful for me as her husband. How I wish I could spare her from these things as well as those that are to follow. My only way of adapting is to recognize that it is totally out of my control. All I can do is try to keep her safe and happy. I pour all of my energy into that. I’ve learned to live in her world and to be joyful that she can still enjoy life. I am also aided by the fact that she is so dependent on me. She is like a young child, she can do very little on her own. She needs help with everything, and I am willing and able to give it.

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Key Events from Yesterday

Kate has never been a breakfast eater. I am. The result is that we have eaten breakfast together only occasionally since we married now almost fifty-seven years ago. That has occurred most often when we were traveling and also periodically attending a monthly breakfast with a group from the Y. She got up early when the children were with us and when she was working, but she would quickly drink a glass of orange juice and eat a cup of yogurt. Now she generally sleeps until time for lunch. On those occasions when she gets up early, we go to Panera where she eats a blueberry muffin. When she gets up, I have already eaten. That came to an end yesterday.

I woke up about 3:00 yesterday morning and didn’t get back to sleep for a long time. As a result, I slept later than usual. I am sure the fact that it was only the second day of daylight saving time was also a factor. At any rate, I got up about 7:15 instead of 5:45 to 6:15 on most mornings.

It was close to 8:00 when I was about to fry a couple of eggs. I heard Kate say something and went to the bedroom. She greeted me warmly, but she was eager “to get outta here.” I told her I would be happy to take her. Normally I would take her to Panera, but this wasn’t a normal day. I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I decided to take her to Eggs Up Grill where we could have breakfast together.

I got Eggs Benedict, and Kate had blueberry pancakes. She hadn’t remembered what pancakes and syrup were, but she enjoyed every bite. It turned out to be a very nice way to begin the day. As happens when we go to Panera and back, she never mentioned wanting to “go home” or “get outta here” again (until next time).

Once home, she was ready to rest. I put on some relaxing music. She got on the sofa in the family room and went to sleep. She awoke about thirty minutes before the sitter was to arrive. I asked if she would like for us to look at one of her photo books. She liked the idea, and we sat together on the sofa and started one. It was only a few minutes before she said she was tired. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and we sat there listening to the music.

It was a very peaceful moment until I heard the doorbell ring. I told Kate it was the sitter and that I would be going to Rotary. I knew when I said it that the transition was too abrupt. She sat up straight, crossed her arms and gave me a dirty look. She was more disturbed than I would have expected. Fortunately, when she saw Cindy, she smiled and greeted her enthusiastically. I will make sure to follow my more typical pattern in the future. I like to stay a few minutes after the sitters arrive. I don’t have that much time on days when I have Rotary and will be more careful next time.

On the way to dinner, Kate told me that I take good care of her and continued to express her appreciation during the ten-minute drive to Chalupas for dinner. She emphasized that she could not live without me. I could tell by the way she said it that she understands just how dependent she is.

We had an unusual conversation at dinner. I wish I could tell you more about it. I had finished my meal and was waiting for Kate to finish hers when she started talking about the servers and kitchen help in the restaurants we frequent. This is not a new topic. She often asks me if I would like to have a job doing similar work. She seems to be worried about both the income that people make and the non-financial rewards that accompany this type of work. Her thinking goes beyond restaurants to many other types of jobs.

As she talked, it was clear that she was very relaxed. I think she was just enjoying talking. She failed to complete many of her sentences by saying, “You know” and then moving on. She also referred to “him” or “her” or “they” and “them.” That also made it difficult to understand who she was talking about. The topic also changed several times as well.

I paid our check, and she continued to talk. Several times I asked if she was ready to leave. Each time, she said, “In a few minutes.” I wasn’t able to make much sense of what she was saying, but she seemed happy that I was listening to her. After almost fifty minutes, she finally agreed to leave. The conversation ended after getting up from the table.

Kate continues to  be aware of many things she can’t do. That concerns her. I believe her talking this way was another instance of trying behave like a normal person. Conversations are difficult for her in terms of knowing what to say. When we are with other people, she also has trouble finding an appropriate entry point between the comments of the rest of us. I think the conditions were just right last night. It was just the two of us. We had had a relaxing meal. She was in the mood to talk, and I was a supportive listener. I just wish I could have understood what she said.

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No “Sleeping-In” Yesterday

Following two consecutive days of not wanting to get up, Kate awoke early yesterday and wanted “to get out’a here.” Except for believing she was in an unfamiliar place, she was in a good mood. For me, one of the good things about her wanting to get away is that it makes it easier and faster to get her up and dressed. We were at Panera before 10:30. She worked on her iPad but focused mainly on her blueberry muffin and wanted another. I told her we would be going to lunch in thirty minutes and asked if she could wait. She was agreeable.

The afternoon was our usual one. She rested a couple of hours. Then I suggested we look at a photo album of pictures taken when our children were pre-school age. We did that for a while before our daughter called. We had a nice conversation and Kate handled it well. After the call, we returned to the photo album, but Kate wanted to rest a little longer.

When I suggested our going to dinner, she didn’t hesitate getting up. That is normal. I don’t recall her ever having trouble getting up after resting in the family room in the afternoon. I wish I could say that about the morning when she is in bed.

She was confused about where she was as well as who I was but wasn’t disturbed. She asked my name and asked if we would be coming back for the night. She also said a few other things that made it clear she thought we were in someone else’s house.

At dinner something came up that made me mention our marriage. Kate was shocked. I was surprised at her reaction because we had been talking so comfortably about our relationship. It wasn’t simply that she was shocked. She couldn’t imagine how it was possible that she could have forgotten something like that. Fortunately, I was able to divert her attention. She was fine after that, but I felt bad. I intend to be more careful about that in the future. I think I have been unconsciously trying to keep that memory alive. Now I am beginning to believe that it may be time to let it go. I’ll just assume that she doesn’t remember and not try to remind her. There are enough incidental reminders when we browse through her photo books and interact with other people.

We had one of those middle-of-the-night incidents at 1:30 this morning. I woke up as Kate sat up on the side of the bed. I got up and went around to her side to help her up. She seemed wide awake and cheerfully greeted me like someone she might have recognized but not known. It wasn’t long before she said, “Who are you?” I told her my name but said nothing of our relationship. She didn’t ask.

I asked if she wanted to go to the bathroom. She didn’t. She asked about “the others.” I told her we were the only ones “here.” She seemed surprised but didn’t question me. I asked again if she would like to use the bathroom. She asked where it was. I told her I would show her. We usually hold hands, but she didn’t want to this time.

When we reached the bathroom, I stepped in and turned around to direct her to the toilet. She showed no interest in coming in. Instead, she was obsessed with what time she should “be there.” I never found out where “there” was, but it was important to her. I told her she didn’t need to be there until “1:00 tomorrow.” She was surprised and asked about today. I told her it was the middle of the night and that she would need her sleep to be ready for tomorrow. She went back to the question “What time do I have to be there?” We went through a repetition my standard answer and her standard question. A couple of times she asked what time she would have to leave, but her emphasis was on what time she had to be there. She couldn’t remember and kept asking.

Finally, she used the toilet. When she was finished, she noticed two pictures on the top of a nearby cabinet. One was a photo of my mom and me. She pointed to my mom and wanted to know who she was. When I told her who she was, she said, “I remember her. She is very nice.” Then she asked about my sister. I don’t have a sister but said she was fine. Then she said my sister was very nice and that she liked her. Before getting back to bed, she commented several other times about my mom and sister and how nice they were.

Once in bed, she was still wide awake for a short time. I tried not to encourage much talking, and she soon drifted off to sleep. She is still sleeping as I finish this entry. On the video cam I just saw her moving a few minutes ago, I will check on her and see if she is ready to get up. That would be nice. I don’t have Rotary today, and the sitter is coming at 1:00 rather than noon. If she gets up soon, we would be able to have lunch together. That would be a good way to start the week.