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Our Conversation This Morning

At 6:30 this morning as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard Kate say, “Hey.” I went to her bedside and asked if there were something I could do for her.

Kate:              “I want to go to the bathroom.”

Richard:        “I can help you with that.”

Kate:              “Where is it?”

Richard:        “Let me help you up, and I’ll show you.”

When she stood up, I took her hand.

Kate:              “Boy, am I glad you’re here.”

Richard:        “I’m glad to be here with you.”

As we reached the bathroom, she wanted to shed her overnight underwear.

Kate:              “This is no fun. I know it’s not for you either.”

When she finished, she went to the sink to wash her hands and brush her teeth. Then the conversation continued.

Kate:              “Richard, I’m so glad you are here. You take such good care of me.” (We embraced) “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

Richard:        “And I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Kate:              “What’s your name?”

Richard:        “Richard, and I’m your husband.”

Kate:              “Oh. What do I do now?”

Richard:        “It’s still early. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

She did, and we walked hand in hand back to bed.

Kate:              “Thank you. You know I can’t live without you.”

Richard:        “I love you and will always take care of you.”

Kate:              “You already are.”

During our entire conversation, she never displayed any sign of anxiety or panic. She was, however, feeling insecure and grateful for my help. The way she acted it sounded like a rather clear understanding that she has a serious problem and views me as someone she can trust to care for her. We talk about our love for each other all the time, but in this moment it seemed that each of us fully recognized our situation for what it is.

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Hallucinations and Delusions

Hallucinations and delusions are common among people with dementia. Kate is no exception, but I often find it difficult to distinguish between the two. I know that hallucinations are sensual experiences that feel real but are not. Delusions are false beliefs that occur when there is no evidence that they are correct.

Applying those general definitions to specific incidents is not always easy. For example, Kate often believes she is some other place when she is home. Most frequently, that involves her believing our house is some type of lodging like a hotel and that there are other people staying here. When she wakes up, she often says, “I want to get out of here.” I think of this as a delusion because it is a false belief. On the other hand, that must occur because she has had a sensual experience that she doesn’t recognize as our own house. When I point out a few things like our backyard (that is, giving her evidence that is to demonstrate it is our house), she realizes she is really at home. That sounds more like it was an hallucination.

As I was about to get out of bed yesterday morning, she asked, “What do I have to do today?” I told her it was a day without any special obligations, that she could relax and do what she wanted to do. Then she said something about having to give a talk someplace. I told her I didn’t know about anything like that and suggested she may have had a dream. She reacted quickly and strongly saying, “It was not a dream.” I didn’t pursue it further. After I was dressed and about to go to the kitchen for breakfast, she brought up the subject again. This time I knew what not to say. Again, I told her it was a day when she could relax. When she asked about her “talk,” I said, “I think that’s tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about it right now.” She was relieved.

Most of her hallucinations/delusions are like those I just mentioned; however, this past Tuesday afternoon she (and I) had an experience that was a first. She had been resting on the sofa of our family room for about two hours while I was seated across from her. She fell asleep for a short time. Then she awoke and saw me. She had a big smile on her face and greeted me like someone she knew, but not as her husband. She began a conversation that made me think she was not really awake but dreaming.

I went over and sat beside her. She said, “Are you from around here?” I told her I was. Then she said, “Well, how familiar are you with what is going on?” I told her I wasn’t familiar at all. She said, “Oh, then I better start from the beginning and tell you about myself.” That led to a thirty-minute conversation during which she did most of the talking. Her aphasia was quite evident. She struggled for just the right words and how to tell her story most clearly. She would start out and then get confused. Then she would start over. I recorded a short portion that occurred about fifteen minutes after our conversation began. I transcribed the section below as she tried to explain “things” to me.

Kate: What is interesting to me is how quickly we can get in and out here. <pause, reaching for the words> Yeah, I can’t just get over with what you can do with <pause, reaching for the words> uh, with, well, you know with what. (She laughed.)

Richard: Well, you seem very happy. You don’t seem like you have a problem.

Kate:  I don’t have a real problem, but I do get discouraged sometimes. Just because. Let me see. <pause, reaching for the words> All right. <pause, reaching for the words>

Richard: You get discouraged? For what?

Kate: Oh . . . Oh. <pause, reaching for the words> just little things, you know. and the big things I take pretty well. And, uh, there’s a guy that I had never met before, but he’s a nice guy. Are you familiar with around here?

Richard: A little bit.

Kate: Well, OK. Um. I’m from Fort Worth, Texas, and um. <pause> And my family was religious, and uh, but anyway, I, I, uh grew up in the church. So <pause>, reaching for the words> But, ya’ know, all of these things have changed.

Richard: In what way?

Kate: (She laughed and called me for help.) Richard. <pause> Richard! <pause> Richard!! <longer pause> Richard!!!

Richard: Who are you looking for?

Kate: That’s my . . . <pause>

Richard: Who is that? <no response> You were about to say?

Kate: He’s with us.

Richard: Richard?

Kate: With this church.

Richard: Richard is with the church?

Kate: Who?

Richard: You’re saying somebody is with the church.

Kate: Oh, yeah.

Richard: Who is that?

Kate: Oh, a lot. <pause> (She laughed.) We do. This is a little hard for get around here, but, uh. Anyway, let me start with me. I grew up in this right <pause> this big area.

Richard: You grew up around here.

Kate: And, uh . . . (She laughed). There were in the area in which all my friends grew up with we all went to school. You know some get out way . . .

I think that should give you an idea of the conversation. She called for me again, and I told her I would go get “him.” When I walked back into the room, I greeted her as though I had not been in the room with her moments before, but I didn’t give her my name or tell her I am her husband. She seemed to recognize me, and I suggested we go to dinner.

I’m not clear on whether she was having an hallucination or a delusion or both. Maybe it’s best just to say she was confused. That is clear, but what prompted it? That’s another thing I’ll never know.

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Signs of Aphasia

When Kate had her psychological evaluation following her diagnosis, the psychologist told us that she was likely to retain her greatest strengths the longest. I would say that is her gift for conversation in everyday social encounters. I attribute her success in social situations since her diagnosis to that particular skill. It has meant she could get along well without saying anything that would make it obvious that she has Alzheimer’s. That is changing significantly now.

There are two aspects of her aphasia that coincide with fundamental symptoms of dementia. The first is difficulty organizing her thoughts to explain something she wants to tell you. This has been a problem for a long time. I quickly learned not to ask her to explain anything. She would simply say, “Let’s not talk about it now.” The second involves her memory for words. That is happening now.

I am sure this began earlier than I recognized and relates to the difference between all the words in one’s vocabulary and the words that are most frequently used. Now she doesn’t recognize some of the most common words that we all use. I mentioned in an earlier post that I have had to tell her what pizza is on several occasions. I’ve tried to describe a pizza, but the best way to tell her is to pull up a picture on my phone. Ironically, one of the first words to drop out of her vocabulary was iPad. She almost always calls it “my thingy.” That is also used for a number of other words that she can’t recall.

Sometime during the past week, I told her she was up early enough for me to get her a blueberry muffin. She had no idea what I was talking about. This week she looked at the salt and pepper shakers on the table at a restaurant and asked what they were. I explained, but she didn’t appear to understand. On another occasion, I used the word “restaurant.” She didn’t know what I was talking about.

Another type of speech problem is properly pronouncing words. This comes up most often when she asks me the name of something or somebody. I think this occurs because she doesn’t hear the name correctly, but I am not at all sure. It also occurs in other situations. For example, she often pronounces “shoes” as “shows.” The other night she said, “I still want to walk a little bit on my thingy.” (Translation: “I still want to work a little bit on my iPad.”) Similarly, she recently said something about my “bed.” She meant my “head.”

Even though I know this is a common characteristic of this stage of her Alzheimer’s, I find myself concerned about it. Perhaps, I am sensitized because of our experience with Kate’s friend, Ellen, in memory care. We continue to visit her every 4-5 weeks, but her aphasia has made our visits more challenging. I can’t help wondering how long it will be before Kate is in the same position. That would be a major change in our lives.

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Does she know what lies ahead?

I don’t think I am alone among caregivers when I wonder exactly what Kate knows. By now I realize that she knows very little when it comes to her rational thought/abilities. Many times I have mentioned how often she can’t remember my name or our relationship. I take comfort in the fact that her intuitive thought/abilities are still working well. Through them she almost always recognizes me as someone very familiar and trusting.

For over a year, I have also realized that she no longer remembers that she has Alzheimer’s. At first, I wondered if I should tell her and, on one occasion, I did remind her. She hadn’t remembered, but she quickly forgot, and I haven’t said anything since. I haven’t see anything to be gained by it.

She has always recognized that she has problems and needs my help. It was only a year ago in July that she began to experience anxiety or panic over moments when she didn’t seem to know anything – where she was, who she is, who she was with. Within the past few weeks, I have sensed that she might believe that her problems were of a more serious nature, not just a periodic lapse of memory. Over the past week or two, she has said and done things that lead me to think that she knows she is declining and is afraid of what lies ahead.

Sometime in the past day and again today at lunch I felt strongly that she recognizes that through her intuitive thought. She was awake when I went to get her up for lunch. She didn’t seem frightened, but she was uneasy and insecure. She was especially eager for me to help her with everything. That follows signs of increasing insecurity and appreciation for my helping her during recent weeks.

At lunch, I said something about her mother and father. She wanted to know their names and something about them. When I said that her father was one of eight children, she said, “I know why.” I said, “Why?” She said, “Because in those days, they needed more children.” I was surprised that she came up with this and said, “You know, you are smart.” She beamed and said, “I think so too.” It was as though she was relieved to have me say that. Off and on she has said she is smart, but that has been more frequent recently. I have felt she was trying to convince herself that is true. It would be easy to think she is not given how poor her memory is and how little she is able to do.

During our conversation, she stopped and said, “I want to tell you something.” She looked very serious. I leaned closer to her. She said, “I know that you will always take care of me.” I said, “I will. You can count on that.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she said, “Thank you. I know you will.” I felt we were thinking similar thoughts about the future. There is no way I can be sure, but the look on her face made me think that.

I told her I loved her, and she said the same about me. We began to talk about our marriage, and I mentioned our children. She said, “Who are they?” I told her and she asked if I had a picture. I pulled out my phone and showed her pictures of Jesse and Kevin. She said, “Do you think they love us?” I said, “I know they do?” She choked back her tears.

In a few minutes, we got up to leave. She started whimpering and was loud enough that I saw people at two different tables look up. On the way to the exit she continued to cry softly. We stopped right there in the dining room and hugged for a moment and then went on.

I don’t know precisely what she is thinking, but she seems very concerned and doesn’t see a happy ending. I am glad she still knows that I will be with her all the way.

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A Touching Morning Conversation

I am never sure what Kate will be like when she wakes in the morning. She is usually in a good humor, but she is often confused and sometimes irritable. Today was an interesting mix of tenderness and confusion. The prelude to a touching conversation occurred when I noticed on the video cam that she was sitting up in bed. I went to the bedroom. I found that she wanted to go to the bathroom, but she didn’t want my help. I think it was one of those rare times when she didn’t recognize me at all. I pointed out the bathroom and left to watch on the video. She made her way to the bathroom. I went back when I saw her come out. After she was back in bed, I told her I would be in the kitchen and to call me if she needed anything. She asked my name. I told her, and she tried to repeat it. We went through this routine several times. Before I left, I said, “If you don’t remember my name, just say ‘Hey.’”

An hour later, I heard a very soft “Hello.” Before I reached her, I heard it again. By that time, I was at the door to the bedroom and said, “Did I hear you calling for me?” She nodded. She smiled, and I thought this was one of those mornings when she clearly knew our relationship. She said, “I love you.” I took that as confirmation of my suspicion.

I was wrong. I sat down on the bed beside her. She said, “I want to thank you for taking such good care of me.” I said, “That’s because I love you.” She said, “I love you.” She paused a moment and said, “What’s your name?” Before I could say anything, she recognized how strange that sounded. She laughed and said, “I know that sounds funny.”

That began a 15-20 minute conversation a portion of which I recorded on my phone. The gist of the conversation was a continuation of her expression of appreciation for my caring for her as well as how she feels about me. That continued to be mixed with asking my name. She also referred to me as her daddy. Once or twice she asked if I were. The first time I hesitated and then told her I wasn’t. She was disappointed. I said, “You can think of me as your daddy.” She liked that and continued to call me her daddy, but she also talked about loving me in a way that was more like she thought of me as her husband. Of all the things she said, I was struck by one particular thing. She looked teary and said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I know you will take care of me.” I assured her that I would.

I can’t tell you how many times I have wondered to what extent she grasps her problem. I am positive she doesn’t remember that she has Alzheimer’s, but she frequently expresses a concern about herself. She knows that something is wrong. Her comment this morning suggests to me that she thinks it’s something serious.

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At Stage 7 of Alzheimer’s, is there really any joy for caregivers and the ones for whom they care?

My memory of the last stage of my mother’s dementia has faded significantly. One thing I remember is that, except for his Kiwanis meetings, my dad still took her with him whenever he went out. That was the only time he sought help. He dropped her off at a senior day care for four hours to attend his meeting and shop for groceries.

I look back with amazement as I think of those days. At the time, I wondered why he did it. He was eighty-eight, and she was completely dependent on a wheelchair the last two or three years. In order to get her from their apartment (that fortunately was on the ground level) to the car, he had to roll the wheelchair 25-30 feet over grass. Then he got her into the front seat of the car, folded the wheelchair, and loaded it in the trunk of his car. From my personal experience, this was not a simple task. Yet I never heard him utter the first word of complaint. They had been married 70 years when she died. He was just expressing his love for her in the only way he knew how at that point, and he did it joyfully.

Now that Kate is closer to that stage of her Alzheimer’s, I have a greater sense of what sustained him. He could see what I didn’t. There is no doubt to me now that he could find joy in their relationship when it appeared to me that the joy had long since passed.

I believe Kate and I have some time left before she is at that same point, but I can already see that joy is indeed possible very late in this disease. I am sure that doesn’t happen for everyone. As I have said before, we are very fortunate. My point is that it can happen and should be something for which those of us living with Alzheimer’s can hope.

Moments of joy may not come as often as they did before. They may be short-lived.  They do occur for us, however. We had another of those “Happy/Joyful Moments” at lunch yesterday. As I reported in my previous post, she didn’t know my name or our relationship when she got up to go to the bathroom in the morning. I’m not sure whether she did or didn’t later when I got her up for lunch. There were times during lunch when I know she didn’t. Neither did she remember her own name. As earlier that morning, she was quite at ease with me. When she asked my name and relationship, she accepted it as naturally as she did when she pointed to her salad and asked, “What is that?”

She was very talkative. Interestingly, we didn’t gravitate to our usual conversations about family and marriage. She asked questions about the restaurant, the food, and the staff. It was unusually quiet when we arrived. Only one other table was occupied. She said, “I wonder if <using her hand because she couldn’t think of the word for servers> like it better when it is quiet like this or when it is ‘you know’ <again using her hand and groping for the word ‘busy.’>

It is always fascinating when she doesn’t “know” me but also talks about my personality quirks. She kidded me a lot during lunch, and none of the kidding had a bitter edge to it. She was having fun, and I loved it.

Because it was less busy, we got more attention from the staff. We had several conversations with our server. Another person who often serves us stopped by our table to speak. The manager also stopped by for a brief visit. During our conversation with the manager, I commented on how much I had liked the broccolini salad with a little tomato and feta cheese. Kate didn’t like it because she doesn’t like the crispiness of raw vegetables. As the manager was about to walk away, Kate said, “And don’t give me any of that anymore.” She didn’t sound offensive. It was more like a little child simply expressing her distaste for the salad, something I had already explained to the manager.

She also said or did a couple of other things that I got a kick out of. She now frequently mixes her words and sometimes says something that is just the opposite of what she meant or is a homonym for the word she wanted. For the first time, she did this with a gesture instead of a word. She dropped a piece of cheese on the table, picked it up with her hands, and ate it. She gave me a devilish smile, put her hand over my mouth (instead of my eyes) and said, “You didn’t see that.”

A little later we had dessert. When the server brought it to the table, she kidded me, saying, “Didn’t you want one too?” She took a bite or two. Then I said, “You’re going to like that.” She said sternly, “I’m already enjoying it.” I said, “I should expect that from an English teacher. You want to make sure I’m using the correct tense.” For some reason, she thought that was funny and began to laugh. I guess that was because it was something she would usually say and not “me,” Oops, “I.” <G>

Oh, yes, the meal was also very good, but that wasn’t what gave us so much pleasure. Being together, and with other people, is what made lunch special. We had a good time.

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Yesterday’s Lunch Conversation

Yesterday was one of those days when Kate didn’t remember my name or our relationship. As usual though, she was perfectly comfortable with me. I took her to the bathroom. She didn’t seem especially confused, but she didn’t want me to leave her. She always takes a lot of time in the bathroom. Yesterday she took even longer. During that time, she talked to me about what she was doing as she washed her hands, arms, and face. It was very much like what she does in bed at night when she pulls strands of her hair. She refers to it as “working.” She also tells me she is accomplishing a lot and wants me to watch her carefully. It seems she does this to let me know that there is a purpose to what she is doing. I was feeling a little impatient, but I successfully avoided her recognizing it. She went through three hand towels and four wash clothes before she was finished.

She was very talkative going to, during, and returning home from lunch yesterday. That was almost an hour and a half. This was very different from her normal behavior. The entire time I was fascinated by how much she talked and the content of her conversation.

It started when she used a word that I can’t remember right now and said, “I bet you didn’t think I even knew that.” I said, “I’m not surprised. I know you’re smart.” She said, “Yes, guys don’t think girls are smart, but they are. They’re just as smart as boys, some of them even smarter.”

She continued this line of thinking after we got to the restaurant, but the nature of the topic drifted away from the key theme. A good bit of the time I had trouble understanding what she was trying to tell me. It was as though she had taken some kind of drug that made her talkative, and she rambled from one thing to another. The common thread was her focus on the lives of boys and girls during their teenage years. She talked about the “prim and proper” girls who sought the attention of the boys by wearing the right clothes, staying slim, and worrying about their hair. My participation was that of facilitator. I asked a lot of questions for clarification and simply listened as she went from one thing to another. Understanding her was complicated somewhat by her shrinking vocabulary. She uses the word “thingies” a lot when she can’t think of the precise word she wants.

She talked so much that she ate more slowly than usual. We were running late to get home for the sitter. I sent her a text and told her to wait for us, and we would be home shortly. It was quite a conversation. Like so many things, I will never know what brought it on.

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Confusion, but in a Good Mood

Yesterday morning was a time of significant confusion for Kate. It was similar to several other moments when her memory seemed to be completely blank. She was concerned but showed no signs of the panic she has had in similar situations. I was in the kitchen when I heard her call my name over the video cam. Yes, she did remember my name. This was one of those times the camera paid off. Kate called to me in a somewhat soft tone of voice, nothing like a shout or scream. The microphone is very sensitive. I heard her immediately and went to her.

At first, I didn’t sense the degree of her confusion. As she does so often, she asked me where we were. I told her we were in Knoxville. She looked puzzled. She asked why. I explained that we live here and that “this is our house.” Then I said, “You look like you are a little confused. What could I do to help you?” That opened the door to an hour-long conversation during which she asked questions (often the same ones over and over) and I gave her the answers. We talked about her parents, my parents, and our children and grandchildren. The topics also included how we had met, places we had lived, her work and mine, and other special things we have done.

Several times, I asked if she might like to get up. She declined saying, “I would rather hear you tell me about my family.” The last time I asked, she agreed it was time to get up. She took a shower and got back in bed for another hour. When I got her up for lunch she was fine.

I don’t know how confused or clearheaded she was about our relationship. I only know that she called my name when she wanted me. She was in a pleasant mood throughout the episode and for the balance of the day. This is another good example of the transition she can make extreme confusion to a more normal state. It seems clear to me that when she wakes up most of her connections to the world around her are dormant. As she receives the information I give her and as she directly experiences more of her everyday life, she feels more at ease.

That doesn’t mean she knows where she is or the people around her. Increasingly, she thinks we are staying in some other place than our home. That was true when we got home last night. In the car she asked where we would be staying. I told her we would be in our very own home. She asked if it was very far. When we drove up to the house, I said, “This is where we will be staying.” She admired everything she saw and never realized we were at home, but she was happy.

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Conversation

As Kate declines, our conversations are changing as well. Sometimes they are more challenging. Occasionally they are puzzling. Other times they can be humorous.

  • Challenging

We ate lunch at Andriana’s yesterday. That’s the restaurant with the mugshot of Frank Sinatra. We hadn’t been seated long before she asked who he was. I told her, and she said, “It’s not a very good picture.” I said, “Mugshots usually aren’t.” Then she wanted an explanation. I told her that police take photos of the people they arrest, and they aren’t concerned with getting a flattering picture. When I told her he was arrested, she wanted to know what he had done. I told her, and she said, “Who was the woman?” I said I didn’t know, and I told her that in this day and time, he probably wouldn’t have been arrested at all. She said, “Who?” I said, “Sinatra.”

This is a small thing, but it is an example of the kind of complication we can have in conversation. It requires a lot of repetition on my part. In this particular case, her memory wouldn’t let her hold on to Sinatra’s name long enough to last the duration of the very short conversation. As I have reported before, she asks me his name multiple times while we are there, but who we are talking about obviously gets forgotten in a conversation about him as well. This is the kind of thing that most other people would not notice because of the nature of their conversations with her. The fact that it is just the two of us offers her the opportunity to ask more questions, and I am very happy about her interest in knowing about the things she sees around her. It does, however, affect the flow of conversations. It can be one explanation after another.

That leads to another challenge in conversation. It is very difficult for her to understand almost any explanation because it often requires more information than she is able to process. I try to keep things simple, but it’s a challenge to do that and to do it all the time. Two nights ago we had our regular pizza night. We sat at a booth where we have eaten quite a few times. There is a poster on the wall above the table that advertises a flavored seltzer. She responds to this the way she does to Sinatra’s mugshot. She tries to read it but can’t understand and asks, “What is that?” I tell her, but she doesn’t know what seltzer is. That gets us into “Too Much Information.” After my first effort several months ago, I now just say, “It’s a flavored beer.” She gives me a look that expresses just how unappealing that is to her.

Between patiently repeating information and attempting to make things simple, it can be work. On the other hand, there is an element of pleasure seeing her interest and also succeeding in satisfying that interest, at least trying to. I do pretty well on the patience end, but I find it more difficult to explain things to her.

  • Humorous

At lunch on Saturday, she looked me over. Then she said, “Your glasses don’t do anything for you.” I jokingly said, “Some people think they make me look more handsome.” She burst out laughing. I said, “You don’t agree?” She said, “You’re a nice guy, but you’re not handsome.” This has been a continuing theme for quite a while. I don’t expect it to lessen now.

  • Puzzling

Yesterday afternoon I was seated across from her while she rested on the sofa in our family room. She opened her eyes and stared at a bench located between us. She looked as though she might be dreaming. I watched a moment and then asked what she was looking at. She tried to explain but couldn’t do it well enough for me to understand. She mentioned something about a “Lin.” I didn’t know what that was, and she couldn’t think of how to tell me. I asked her a series of yes/no questions like “Is it a type of clothing?” She was finally able to say that it was something you put in something else. She looked toward the patio, and I asked if it might be a flower pot.  It wasn’t, but she said, “It’s something you put in the ground.” Then I asked if she was talking about plants. That was it. From there I determined that she wants to buy some flowering plants and put them “someplace.” She continued talking. What she wants is to put them in the front yard.

This kind of conversation does not happen a lot, but it is becoming more frequent. It appears to me like she has had a dream that she thinks of real and talks with me as though I know what she is talking about. As her aphasia gets worse, she has more trouble explaining what she wants. As in this illustration, the words sometimes won’t come to her. Most of the time, I don’t understand her. We both reach a point at which we say it is time to forget it.

The good news is that we are still having conversations though I must say that she is not talking as much now as she did a few months ago. I miss that.

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During the Night

Although Kate generally sleeps well at night, she was awake for a couple of nights this past week. Night before last, I had gotten up about 1:00 to go to the bathroom. When I got back in bed, she said, “Who are you?” She didn’t sound frightened or upset. She merely wanted to know. I gave her my name and told her I was her husband. Then she asked her name. At first, I thought this might be one of those times she was anxious about not knowing where she was or who she was with, but it wasn’t that at all. She was quite calm.

This made me think about something I have thought about before but not mentioned in my blog. During the night, I am very careful not to put my arm around her while she is sleeping. Since I know that she is often confused when she wakes up, I have been afraid that she might be frightened if I did so. On the other hand, she isn’t always, or even usually, confused upon waking. In fact, she frequently moves right next to me during the night and puts her arm around me. Her intuitive ability apparently leads her to respond to me as naturally as she has before her Alzheimer’s.

During the night at our hotel on Saturday, something else occurred. I heard her say something and asked if I could help her. She said she I could and tried to explain what it was she needed. She was very concerned about whatever it was, but she couldn’t explain it to me. I was only able to determine that it involved a mutual friend of ours and that she needed to make a list. At first, she just referred to “him.” When I asked who that was, she gave her usual answer, “You know.” I feel sure she does this because she can’t remember. I mentioned several names but was never sure who she was talking about. Ultimately, we both drifted off to sleep. I’ll never know what she was talking about, but it was of great concern to her. It reminded me of several other times when she has had a dream and thought she needed to be someplace and was worried about being late.