A Very Good Day

In many ways, yesterday was just an ordinary day. I got Kate up in time for the sitter who arrived at noon. I went to my Rotary meeting, to the Y, and the grocery store before getting back home to relieve the Cindy. Kate and I relaxed in the family room for an hour and then went to dinner and returned home. We received a phone call from our daughter and ended the day. So why do I think it was “a very good day?” Let me tell you.

We were off to a good start when I went to wake Kate shortly after 11:00. She was already awake and gave me a smile that said, “Everything is all right. I’m just enjoying resting.” I sat down on the bed and we talked a few minutes before telling her it was time to get up. She wasn’t eager, but when I explained that I was going to Rotary and Cindy would take her to lunch, she agreed to get up. She was in a good mood and, other than needing me to guide her to the bathroom, she gave no sign of her normal early morning confusion.

She dressed slowly, but promptly, and was ready before Cindy arrived. I was leading her to the kitchen for her morning meds when she wanted to stop and admire the flowers in our family room and the ones on the patio. I enjoy watching her experience such joy. We started toward the kitchen, she stopped and said hello to the ceramic cat that has been a “pet” for quite a few years. He is now resting in front of a cabinet beside the fireplace as we walk to the kitchen. Then she noticed, as she almost always does, pictures of her father, our son, and me when I was about twelve. She loves looking at them, and her pleasure increases when I tell her “who we are.”

When Cindy arrived, Kate gave her a hug and showed no signs of concern about my leaving. They were sitting in the family room when I got back. I was glad that it did not appear that Kate had taken a nap as she often does. Even though she often naps after lunch, I sometimes feel that she uses that as a way to escape the sitter. This time they were talking. I also saw that she had the three-ring binder memory book on the table next to her. She had been looking at it.

One of the highlights of the day came after Cindy left. Most of the time, Kate is ready for us to leave the house as soon as I get home. Recently, that has been changing. Yesterday Kate gave me no indication that she was ready to go out. I turned on some music that I know she likes and sat down with my laptop to check my email. After a few minutes, I looked over at her. She had closed her eyes. Each hand was flat against the other as if in prayer. I have observed this on several other occasions. She continued to enjoy the music for about forty-five minutes. She periodically opened her eyes. She also released her hands off and on depending on the particular song that was playing. Her facial expressions and her hands worked in harmony with specific segments of the songs. Sometimes she was smiling. Other times, she was teary. She was enjoying herself so much that we went to dinner thirty minutes later than usual.

Another highlight occurred after we returned home from dinner. We received a phone call from our daughter who had just returned from a trip to England and France with her seventeen-year-old twin boys. It was their first trip, and she was excited to tell us about it. Kate said only a few words but listened intently to Jesse as she recounted their experiences.

When I reflect on our day, I have to say it was good day. Looking back, I don’t recall a single time she asked my name, or hers, or where we were or anything like that. It was a day when she was not talkative but at ease and seemed to know me and her surroundings. She might not have, but I like to think that she did.

Special Moments

Given Kate’s decline and my comments about sad moments, I felt a need to let you know that we still experience happy moments as well. In fact, they still outweigh the sad ones. We had a several of those yesterday. The first occurred at lunch. When our server greeted us, she reached out to give Kate a hug, something she does when we arrive and leave each Saturday. Kate gave her a warm embrace. Then she looked at me as if to introduce me and said, “This is my friend.” I agreed and said, “She is a good friend, isn’t she?” Kate beamed and said, “Yes, a very good friend.” I know that Kate doesn’t remember our server, at least by name, but she has developed a feeling for her. When she walked away, Kate said, “I like her. She’s so friendly.”

I love everything about moments like this. They are a major reason we eat out. We only get hugs at one other restaurant, but being regulars at so many places provides us with a kind of warmth that is decidedly different than the good service we receive at places we visit only periodically. And that is in addition to the people we encounter who are friends and acquaintances from our other community activities. Food really is quite secondary to the overall experience.

I don’t think I can overemphasize the pleasure Kate derives from her intuitive abilities. The experience at lunch is just one example. We experienced another special moment when we got home. As usual, she immediately looked at the flowers on our patio from the family room. She admired them a few minutes. Then she said she wanted to rest a while. She mentioned going to the bedroom, but I suggested she might want to lie down on the sofa in the family room where I would work on my laptop. She liked the idea and took a seat. As she did, she noticed one of her family photo books, this one focusing on her father’s family.

We have done so much of this that I know she can’t remember the people in the pictures and has difficulty reading the accompanying text. I asked if she would like me to go through it with her. She said yes, and I sat down beside her. We spent about thirty minutes going through about half the book. She was thoroughly enjoying herself, but she again said she was tired and wanted to finish later. Like a little child, she asked if she could lie down for a while. Then she asked if she could take her shoes off.

I sat down in a chair across from her. She was lying facing the sliding glass doors leading to the patio and backyard. She didn’t close her eyes. She looked at the dense growth of trees on our neighbor’s property. From her vantage point, she can look at them from the top of the wall on our property to the tops of the trees that are visible through the room’s skylights. She never seems to tire of admiring them. She didn’t go to sleep or even close her eyes for at least forty-five minutes. During that time, she called my attention to things she noticed like the different shades of greens, the height of the two tallest trees, and shimmering of the leaves as the wind picked up.

Last night when I got in bed, she was still awake . That’s when we had a conversation that was another happy moment of the day. We talked about the day and how nice it had been. Then I said something about our daughter. She said, “Our daughter?” I said, “Yes.” She said, “How did that happen?” I responded by telling her about our dating, falling in love, and getting married. That led her to say that we had a happy marriage. She said, “We just clicked.” She mentioned our having shared values and said, “You know, we laugh a lot. I think that helps.” We talked another ten minutes or so when she closed the conversation by saying, “and it (our marriage) is going to last. I was ready to believe that my telling the story of how we fell in love and married had jogged her memory. “Now she understands who I am.” That’s when she asked what has become a familiar question. “And what is your name?” Of course, she may have realized we are married, but I suspect she didn’t at that moment. At best, her memory lasts only seconds. It’s just as possible that she didn’t remember. I am learning, however, to take pleasure in the joy she experiences through her intuitive abilities. That seems to work. It creates a lot more happy moments than I might notice otherwise.

“Little Things Mean A Lot”

In 1954, Billboard ranked Kitty Kallen’s “Little Things Mean A Lot” the number 1 song of the year. It apparently meant a lot to a lot of people. That popped into my head as I thought about today’s post. This follows an earlier post this week when I mentioned Kate’s delight in the “beauty” of her leftover sandwich at a restaurant in Asheville. She derives much pleasure from simple things. She’s not alone. I do too.

The other day someone I follow on Twitter mentioned that her father had written her a letter in which he said sometimes little things can carry you through an entire week. I find that to be true. In fact, it’s even better than that with Kate. During any given week, we encounter a number of touching moments that help me through the week. Let me tell you about three of them that occurred in the past 48 hours.

Thursday night after returning from opera night at Casa Bella, I turned on a YouTube video of selected segments from Andre Rieu concerts. Kate got in bed, and I went to take a shower. After showering, I noticed that Kate’s arms were uplifted, and she was holding her hands together as if she were praying. I think, in a way, she was. She was enraptured by the music. That was the second time I have observed this. The first was during the song “Bring Him Home” on a DVD video of Les Miserables. In both instances, her eyes were closed, and she was entranced throughout the song. I was touched to see her loving the music so deeply.

Last night, I tucked her bed before and told her I loved her. She looked surprised and said, “You do?” I knew immediately that this was one of those moments when she didn’t recall that we are married and said, “Yes.” She said, “I’m glad. I was hoping you did.” I said, “I love you.” She said, “Me too.” It was such a little thing; however, at this stage of her Alzheimer’s, it means a lot to me. She may not always know my name or that I am her husband, but she still has the same feelings.

The third moment actually occurred over a three-hour period between 1:00 and 4:00 this morning. I got up at 1:05 to go to the bathroom. When I got back in bed, she moved close to me and put her arm over my chest. She moved a bit during the next three hours but not much. I think she was pretty much asleep during the entire time. She chuckled a few times and said a few words that I didn’t understand. I think she was dreaming. What struck me was how naturally she held me. I took it as an expression of love. Once again, she is losing her memory of my name and her own and the fact that we are married, but she retains her feelings. Right now that is worth its weight in gold.

Bedtime Conversation

I am glad to report that the rest of our day yesterday went well. It was a good day. Once again, I want to underscore that did not mean any improvement in Kate’s memory or her confusion. In fact, the past few days she seems to be worse. I say it was good because she was happy and that we enjoyed ourselves.

Throughout the day she couldn’t remember my name and our relationship. Neither could she remember her own name. The difference from the morning was her not showing any signs of being frightened. When she wanted to know my name or hers, she asked as naturally as one might say, “Would you pass the butter, please?” The day ended in a conversation that was just that natural.

Kate got in bed about thirty minutes before me. The past few months I’ve been playing a variety of soft music while we go to sleep. Most of the time I play instrumental music. Last night I put on an old Nat King Cole album. When I got in bed, she said, “I like that. Who’s singing?” I told her. She asked, “What do you want me to do in the morning?” I said, “Well, we’re having lunch with a couple we know from Casa Bella’s music nights. We’re supposed to meet them at noon. I’ll probably get you up around 10:00 so that you will have time to shower and dress.” She said, “Who’s that singing?” I told her again. She said, “Tell me exactly what we’re going to do tomorrow.” This time I repeated what I had said before but added that we might drop by to see a friend who just returned home from the hospital and rehab and then come back to the house until time for dinner. She said, “Who’s singing?” I told her again. She said, “Tell me what we’re going to do tomorrow. Again, I repeated myself. She said, “Who’s that singing?” I said, “Nat King Cole. That’s one of our oldest albums (now streaming from Amazon rather than the original LP), and we’ve been together a long time.” She said, “How long?” I said, “Fifty-six years, and I still love you.” She said, “I love you too.” I said, “We have a lot to be grateful for.” She said, “Like what?” I said, “Well, we have two children that we’re very proud of.” She said, “We have children? Are we married?” I said, “Yes, we’re married and have two children.” She said, “What’s your name?” I told her. Then she asked her name.

We went through two or three more rounds of these questions and answers before Kate said, “I’m going to sleep now.” I told her I was going to do the same. It wasn’t long before we were both asleep. I know I was.

Dealing with Squamous Cell Carcinoma

Except for our regular appointments with our doctors and dentists, Kate and I have had little reason for medical treatment since her diagnosis. A year ago, Kate’s arthritis in her right knee led us to an orthopedic clinic for a shot of cortisone. She has gotten along well since then although she complained of a little pain a few months ago. More recently, I have asked her on several occasions if she felt any pain. She has always said she didn’t.

Four or five weeks ago, I noticed a small growth at the edge of her upper lip. It had been well over five years since she had seen her dermatologist. I made an appointment, and the doctor performed a biopsy. A week later, I received a call that the she has a squamous cell carcinoma. We arranged an appointment to have it removed. It was scheduled for noon yesterday.

I much preferred an afternoon appointment. That would have been much easier for Kate and for me as well. That’s because I would have to wake her earlier to have lunch before the surgery. Unfortunately, we would have had to postpone the appointment until much later. They didn’t recommend that.

Every time I face getting her up early, I do so with a bit of trepidation. This time there was no problem at all. Although I had to wake her, she got up easily. That enabled us to have a leisurely lunch and arrive at the doctor’s office twenty minutes before noon. I didn’t mention where we were going until lunch. Kate didn’t understand why we needed to see the doctor and quickly forgot. I explained again on the way over, but she never really grasped the problem.

The doctor who was to perform the surgery was not her regular dermatologist. This doctor is a specialist in squamous cell carcinoma. He immediately noticed that it was hard to see the spot where the biopsy had been taken. Her dermatologist had either removed a large portion of it or it had diminished since the biopsy. The specialist summarized five or six options for treatment. They included complete surgical removal, radiation, freezing, and a topical chemical treatment that we could give at home twice a day for three weeks. After a brief discussion, we settled on the chemical treatment. That requires a compounding pharmacist. I took the prescription to the pharmacy, but they said it would be 24 hours before they would have it ready. I’ll pick it up later today.

As you might expect, the whole process was confusing for Kate. I tried to translate the doctor’s explanations, but she never really understood why she was there and that she had almost had surgery. In this situation, I didn’t think that was a bad thing. She didn’t seem annoyed or frustrated by it all. She wanted to understand what the doctor was saying. She just couldn’t.

I had a United Way meeting at 1:30 and had arranged for our sitter to meet us at the dermatologist’s office at 1:00. She arrived a few minutes before that as we were checking out. Perfect timing. This was one of those times it was really nice to have a sitter. She was able to take Kate home while I went to my meeting. Kate mentioned that she was hungry, so they dropped by Panera on the way. That meant she had a second lunch, but it also helped Kate pass the time until I got home later.

The balance of the day went well. At dinner, we ran into three people we know and had nice conversations with them. At home, we watched an Andre Rieu concert from London on YouTube. Kate enjoyed it more than usual. I’m glad to report it was a good day.

More on Mother’s Day Cards

After lunch yesterday, Kate and I relaxed at home for a short time before leaving for an appointment. She took a seat in the family room. I showed her the two Mother’s Day cards she had received from our daughter and her boys and asked if she would like to look at them. She said, “Of course!” She picked up the one from our daughter first and commented on the “beautiful” colors on the front. Then she opened it and read the message. I asked if she would like for me to read it for her. She declined at first but changed her mind when she stumbled on a few words. When I finished reading it to her, she did just what she had done yesterday. She was in tears and held it in her arms and clutched the card to her chest. She said, “I’m gonna take this with me.” I’m not sure where she thought we were going. She may have been thinking about a move to Texas. That still comes up once in a while.

After finishing that card, she read the one from her grandsons. She had the same reaction to it. It wasn’t long before she wanted to lie down on the sofa. She held both cards closely. She wanted to know if she could take them with her. I told her they were her cards and she could do whatever she wanted. She said, “They’re mine? They don’t belong to anyone else?” She read through the cards one more time while lying on the sofa. Then she put them under one arm and closed her eyes for a short nap. It was touching to see her experience so much pleasure.

It Was a Good Day.

After her confusion first thing yesterday morning, Kate was fine when she got  two hours later. We had a nice Mother’s Day lunch at Andriana’s and returned home around 3:00. When we went to bed, I wondered if we might have another night of conversation. Fortunately, we both slept well.

Things Turned Out All Right Yesterday

After a rocky start yesterday, Kate awoke around 10:45 and was perfectly normal. I didn’t test her to see if she knew our names or our relationship, but she acted as though she did. Before I reminded her that I would be going to Rotary and that the sitter was coming to take her lunch, she was prepared for us to go out together. I thought my telling her I was leaving might change how well things were going. Fortunately, that wasn’t a problem. I suggested that she work on her iPad a few minutes until Cindy arrived. She arrived about ten minutes later. When Kate saw her, she said, “It’s good to see you.”

After Cindy left, Kate was ready to go. It was too early for dinner. We went to Panera for an hour and then to dinner. She was quite tired when we got home. She actually rested a while before going to bed. I think she had not had her afternoon nap. She was in bed by 8:00 although she was awake when I got to bed at 9:30.

Around 4:00 this morning, I felt her move in the bed. She seemed uneasy. I wasn’t sure she was awake, but I asked if she was all right. She said, “I don’t know.” She seemed like she may have been dreaming and that something had disturbed her. She moved closer to me and held my arm tightly. I thought she was frightened and asked if she was afraid. Again, she said, “I don’t know.” This reminded me of the way she was when she got up the first time yesterday morning. She didn’t say anything more. I said, “I am right here with you. You’re going to be all right. I’ll see to that.” She still didn’t say anything. I held her for the next forty-five minutes before she said, “Do we have a wedding?” I told her we didn’t. Then she asked if we have a daughter. I told her we do and that she was already married and had two children. She said, “So we don’t have a wedding?” I told her we didn’t and didn’t have anything she needed to be worried about. I was asleep shortly after 5:00. I’m not sure she was really awake at all during that hour.

A Great Day with Kate’s Brother and His Wife

I am glad to report that yesterday’s visit with Ken and Virginia went very well. I have no idea how much of the time Kate recognized the two of them by name and/or relationship. What I know is that she enjoyed herself.

After the previous night in which she was confused about them, yesterday’s experience was a welcome one. Ken and Virginia came over about an hour before I woke Kate. When I got her up, I told her they were here and that we were going to take them to lunch. She was resting comfortably. I know she could have stayed in bed much longer, but she got up easily. When I brought her into the family room, I said, “Guess who’s here? Your brother Ken and Virginia.” They greeted her warmly, and we were off to a good start.

I had talked with Virginia about our going to the zoo after lunch. She and I both had mentioned that to Kate who responded negatively. That isn’t unusual except that her response seemed to be stronger this time. In the past, I have found that once we are there, she enjoys herself. I think it’s a good place for her because we do it leisurely, and she always finds things that are interesting. That happened again yesterday.

When we arrived, I suggested that they get out while I parked the car. Kate said, “Can’t I go with you?” That was the only indication of any insecurity I noticed the entire day. Instead of trying to take an overall tour, we went directly to the aquarium and reptile center. Kate especially enjoyed the fish. Then we went to see the Koalas and feed the Lorikeets. The latter is always a hit. Kate said she was hungry. We suggested getting ice cream which we did after leaving the Lorikeet exhibit. It was a perfect day for the zoo. Although it was windy, it was sunny and in the 70s. It was pleasant walking around as well as breaking for ice cream. From the zoo, we came home. Ken and Virginia went back to their hotel. Kate rested as well.

About an hour later, we went to dinner and then had some additional time for conversation at home. That turned out to be especially good for Kate. As people our age are prone to do, we reflected on our lives and the way we felt about the way life had turned out for us. That led to a longer conversation about our families, especially our parents. That opened the floodgates for Kate who has a strong admiration for her mother.

I doubt that any of the “facts” she told us were things that actually happened, but they did convey the truth about her feelings for her mother and herself. What she said was very self-revealing. She felt a need to live up to her mother’s reputation and found that intimidating. She told us that her mother and some of her mother’s friends had encouraged her to be her own person. She also talked about her own school achievements, especially academic ones. (These were true.) She didn’t say anything about her Alzheimer’s, but I am sure she has felt a loss of self-esteem. She often says things like “I’m smart, you know.” Or “I’m not stupid.” Indeed, she is not, but Alzheimer’s has altered brain in a way that makes it appear that she is.

I felt that this was a conversation that she couldn’t have had with anyone else. I’ll never know if she remembered their names or their relationship to her, but she clearly felt a kinship with Ken and Virginia. They listened to her and facilitated her conversation. They understood about living in her world. At one point, Ken said something about their father. Kate said, “My father did (or said) that too.” Ken started to explain that they had the same father and realized that was unimportant and let it pass. This kind of facilitation worked. Kate talked more than in a long time. I was happy for her to have such a receptive, understanding audience.

A Good Day

After resting so much the day before, I hoped that Kate would be up a little earlier yesterday. I got my wish. I didn’t have to wake her. She wasn’t up early enough for Panera, but we did get to lunch shortly after 11:30. She was happy, and we enjoyed our lunch time together.

It didn’t surprise me that she wanted to rest as soon as we got home. She is doing that quite regularly these days. We had hair appointments at 3:00. About 2:25, I reminded her of that, and she got up right away. She took a little time to brush her teeth and use the bathroom, but we arrived for our appointments almost ten minutes early.

When we returned home, she worked on her iPad until time for dinner. That was a little over an hour. She continues to have trouble with the puzzles but did pretty well.

The best part of the day occurred at home after dinner. I have mentioned before that Kate often says, “That goes in the book.” She does that whenever we are talking about things that happened in the past. Almost a year ago, I jotted down a number of things that I thought were of importance to her. That includes the names of her family (grandparents, parents, brother and his wife, our children and grandchildren) our courtship and marriage, places we have lived and traveled, as well as a couple of letters I had sent to my parents when we were dating, one from Kate’s mother to my parents during that same period of time, and another from our son that he sent to us after our 50th anniversary. I put the information in a three-ring binder and included some family photos in the back.

After dinner, I asked Kate if she would like to look at it while I watched the news. She did and enjoyed it. It was difficult for her to read, and she asked me to read parts to her. I was pleased that she was interested. She hasn’t expressed much interest until the past few days. She prefers her photo books. I suspect her memory loss may play a part in the recent appeal of reading about things that have been so much a part of her life.

Going through the book gave a little more understanding of the challenges she has with reading and her photo books. For example, I read the letter from our son. I, of course, told her it was from Kevin. In addition, he talks about us and our marriage from his perspective throughout the letter. When I finished with “Love, Kevin,” she was almost in tears. She said it was beautiful and thanked me for writing it. It’s another illustration of the weakness of her rational abilities and the strength of her intuitive ones. She couldn’t remember that it was from Kevin nor pick up that it was from him by what he said. She was, however, able to pick up on the feelings expressed. She may have assumed it was from me since I read it to her.

Another example involved four photographs I had just added to the binder. One of those is of her grandmother that was taken in Lucerne, Switzerland in the mid-1930s. The other is one of us taken in the same spot in 2015. I had them enlarged to 8 x 10s so that she could see them more easily. I told her who the people were and asked if she noticed anything about where the pictures were taken. She didn’t understand what I was asking. I said, “Do you see anything similar about the two pictures?” It took a lot of help on my part for her to see they were taken at the same place. She would never have noticed without my help.

The other two pictures were of her mother taken on the boardwalk in Quebec City with the Chateau Frontenac Hotel in the background and one of Kate taken in the same place. Her parents had stayed at the hotel on their honeymoon in 1936. We stayed there our on our 41st anniversary in 2004. I went through the same routine with these pictures. I’m not sure she ever understood what they had in common. If she did, it didn’t generate any interest. She was, however, interested in the binder’s overall contents. I am glad about that because it gives her something else to enjoy besides her puzzles and photo books. I also intend to add more information. There is plenty of material I can add. The challenge is how to package it in such a way that it is not overwhelming.

By the way, I originally printed it in a 14-pt. font. I have gradually increased it to 36. I think that may be where I stop. She seemed to be able to read that.