Happy Days

It’s been five weeks since the 13th anniversary of Kate’s diagnosis, and I haven’t had anything but good news to report. I’m happy to say that she continues to surprise me with her “Happy Moments.” They have been more frequent in the past two weeks. That is especially true when she and I are alone or with the caregiver, but she has also shared her cheerfulness with residents and staff.

I’ve been taking more videos because she has been talking more. Despite her aphasia, she appears to be communicating appropriately. I also continue to jot down things she says that are clearly understood. Here are a few of those from the past couple of weeks.

While having ice cream on Saturday afternoon, I said, “I didn’t have lunch today.” She said, “Why?” At Dinner that night, the caregiver said, “I had a cough.” Kate said, “What did you say?”

At dinner last Thursday, I said, “You’re entertaining us tonight.” She said, “That’s great!” As we neared the end of dinner, I said to the caregiver, “She really cleaned her plate.” Kate immediately said, “Yes!” A little later, she and the caregiver were waiting for me at the elevator. Kate said to her, “What are we going to do now?” Later in our apartment, I said, “You make me happy.” She said, “Yes, I know.”

Earlier this month, the Seekers were on YouTube singing “I’ll Never Find Another You.” I turned to Kate and said, “I’ll never find another Kate.” She said, “That’s wonderful.” These words may seem trivial to some people, but they don’t occur often; therefore, they are very special to me.

Kate has been saying things like this more often than in the past couple of years. Perhaps, the brain itself is repairing the damage from her stroke on February 7, 2022. Whatever the reason, I enjoy every word she speaks even when I can’t understand them. I just love hearing her voice.

Addendum

2024-03-042

The Happy Moments Continue

For the record, I would like to report that Kate’s “Happy Moments” have continued throughout the week since this post was written. As always, I want to emphasize that this doesn’t mean that they occur all day every day. She is usually in what I call her “neutral mood” in the morning. She tends to perk up in the afternoon, but this past week, she was unusually cheerful several mornings .

I am not naïve. I know that these good times will pass, but I have no idea when. It could be tomorrow or much later. In the meantime, I celebrate every “Happy Moment” she has.

A Happy Valentine’s Day

It’s been years since Kate has been able to anticipate future events or holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, birthdays, or anniversaries. So I would never expect her to show any recognition of a holiday like Valentine’s Day, but she does have frequent “Happy Moments.” We shared two of those on Valentine’s Day.

The first occurred when I came home after lunch. As I do every time I’ve been out, I opened the door and said, “Hello, I’m home. I’m looking for Kate. Where is Kate?” As usual, she was in her wheelchair with her back to the front door. As I walked toward her, I could see her profile. She began to smile. I continued to walk closer and repeated “Where is Kate?” and finally said, “There she is! I’m so glad to see you.” I got down on my knees so that I could look directly at her and said, “I missed you while I was gone.” She beamed and started to laugh.

She was in a cheerful mood, and the two of us talked for almost an hour. I couldn’t understand most of what she said, but it is always a thrill when we have conversations like that.

This doesn’t happen every time I come home, but it does occur occasionally. It seemed to be more meaningful on Valentine’s Day and certainly more touching than any card or other gift she might have given me.

That was topped off by a romantic evening. After the caregiver was gone, and I had my shower, I got in bed with her. She was very relaxed but still talkative. We spent the rest of the evening listening to music and talking about our lives together. I reminded her about our first date and those that followed. That led to talking about our engagement, marriage, having children, and our travels. Again, I could not understand most of her words, but she appeared to be giving appropriate responses to everything I said.

It was a wonderful way for us to celebrate Valentine’s Day. At the time of her diagnosis thirteen years ago, I could not have imagined our having such moments this late in her Alzheimer’s. We are very fortunate, and I am grateful.

More Good Things

Wednesday morning, the caregiver who is with us Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday brought me more good news. She is now free on Tuesday and asked the agency to assign her to us for that day. She still needs to leave a couple of hours early on Wednesdays, but this brings closure to the most challenging period of stress I have experienced during the entire six and a half years we have had care at home for Kate. I am very happy. Not only do I have one person to handle Kate’s care for our weekdays, but she is the caregiver I have liked most since we first started home care in 2017.

That’s not all. Kate has had an unusually good week, and Friday was her best day since before she was hospitalized with Covid in November 2020. She was awake early and talkative off and on throughout the day. She was also responsive to residents who stopped to speak to her at the café downstairs while she was having her ice cream that afternoon.

For me, the highlights of the day were our times together that morning and that evening. I spent a large portion of the morning with her before the caregiver arrived at 11:00. She was cheerful and talkative. We had a good time. Our evening was a repeat of the evening I reported on in my previous post so I won’t elaborate. Moments like these are precious. I know we are very fortunate to have such experiences this late in her Alzheimer’s and wish that were true for every family “Living with Alzheimer’s.”

Good Things

Two thousand twenty-four is off to a good start. Our caregiver issue is almost solved. The first month after losing our regular Monday-Friday caregiver, we had 29 different caregivers. After ten weeks, the total is 40. That means we’ve had only 11 different caregivers in the past 6 weeks. Not only that, but the caregiver who had originally said she could work every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday had a change in her schedule that allows her to work every Thursday as well. Now, we only have to find a person to take care of Tuesday. Until then, we have different people filling in. Fortunately, most of them have been here in the past. This improvement reduces most of my stress.

More importantly, Kate has shown more improvement in recent weeks. As I have said in previous posts, this does not mean an improvement in her Alzheimer’s. It does, however, indicate that she is more at ease which is expressed in her smiles and her speech. It is still difficult to understand her, but her speech indicates that she is happy. From my perspective, that is what is most important.

I am especially pleased that our relationship remains strong. That isn’t reflected in every moment of every day. She is still very quiet on most mornings. On some mornings, she doesn’t express any recognition or interest in me. Other mornings, she does.

She expresses her feelings for me most often when I return home after being gone for a while. At other times, it is in the evening after she is in bed, and the caregiver has left. Last night was one of those.

She had already had a talkative afternoon. When we have occasions like that I generally expect that it won’t continue as we move to other activities. That was no problem last night, and we had a conversation that lasted at least an hour, perhaps a little longer. Sometimes she seems a little hyper when she is talking. This time was different. She spoke slowly and responded to what I had said. Sometimes she asked me a question, and I gave an answer that I hoped would be appropriate for the question she had asked.

During our conversation, she smiled a lot and laughed a good bit as well. It is hard for me to put our feelings into words. The best I can do is to say that we were both perfectly at ease and engaged in a conversation that meant a lot to each of us. I might say it was a beautiful bond of love that transcended her inability to say much that I could understand. I could almost imagine that it was one of those early days when we were dating. It was like each of us was enthralled by what the other was saying. She was still in late-stage Alzheimer’s that requires total care for all of her activities of daily living. For those moments, however, neither of us was mindful of that. We were, and still are, a couple in love, and Alzheimer’s has not been able to take that away from us.

Moments like this will not last forever. For now, we will enjoy every Happy Moment that comes our way.

Remembering the Diagnosis: January 21, 2011

Today is the 13th anniversary of Kate’s diagnosis with Alzheimer’s. That was a life-changing event. At the time we recognized that, but now we know and understand it far better. We don’t celebrate the day itself. We celebrate the fact that she is still with me and that we have lived joyfully. I say that even though her Alzheimer’s, her 8-day stay in the hospital for Covid in November 2020, and her stroke almost two years ago have had a significant impact on our daily lives. Today, our world is much smaller than it was before.

Until the pandemic, we were very socially active. When Covid entered the scene, we were suddenly left to entertain and feed ourselves at home. In November 2020, we both had Covid. Kate spent eight days in the hospital. She has required total care since she returned home. That means we dress her, bathe her, get her in and out of bed with a lift, and use a wheelchair when we leave the apartment. Our social life is now limited primarily to our getting ice cream at a café downstairs each afternoon followed by dinner in the dining room at night.

So, how can I say that we live joyfully? I have two answers to that question. First, Kate  has not experienced most of the problems that other people face. Second, we have found ways to enjoy life and each other despite the changes demanded by Alzheimer’s. We have binged on things we enjoyed before the diagnosis. That included attending musical and theatrical events as much as possible and eating out for lunch and dinner every day for 8-9 years before the pandemic. As a result, we have never been socially isolated.

Because we get out as much as we can, we have a large network of supporters. That is especially true among the residents and staff of the retirement community in which we live, but it also comes through the readers of this blog and our contact through social media.

There is no way to predict how long the good times will last. As I have reported in other posts, we have experienced some new challenges recently. When we began this journey thirteen years ago, we decided to enjoy life and each other for as long as we could. That has served us well, and we will continue to do that and be grateful for the joyful moments we share daily.

Making a Good Recovery

Most of my posts reflect a positive attitude about “Living with Alzheimer’s.” My self-perception is that I am an even-tempered person who is upbeat and calm even during life’s ups and downs; however, I have recently focused on the unusually high degree of stress I’ve experienced since the loss of Kate’s primary caregiver on November 9. Four weeks later, we had 29 different caregivers. It’s now been eight weeks, and the total number of different caregivers is 36. That is an average of almost five new caregivers a week. In addition, there have only been 11 out of 49 days when we had just one caregiver for eight hours. One weekend, we had 4 caregivers on Saturday and another 3 on Sunday. As a result, I have not been as upbeat as I usually am.

The good news is that I am making a good recovery. Part of the reason is that the number of new caregivers in a given week has declined significantly. Even more important is what I reported in my last post. One of the new caregivers has chosen to help me by volunteering to come three days a week (Monday, Wednesday, and Friday) during January and February. As I indicated in that post, that removed a major source of frustration, but there is more.

Her first day was January 1. Several weeks had passed since she had been with us, and I had forgotten how much I liked her. Yesterday was her second day, and I feel even better. She seems to be better than other caregivers we have had over the past three years. She has the basic CNA (certified nursing assistant) skills and a caring and compassionate personality that I value. She is also pleasant to have around.

To top it off, Tuesday we had another new caregiver (number 36 since November 9) who was excellent, and she will be back tomorrow. I don’t know about her long-term schedule, but it would be wonderful if she could come on Tuesday and Thursday when our Monday, Wednesday, Friday person is not available. It may not be quite as good as having one person five days a week, but it comes very close. Everything may turn out to be even better than it was before the loss of our previous person. I am hopeful.

2024: Off to a Good Start

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

My Best Christmas Gift

As we approach the end of this Christmas season and the beginning of a new year, I am feeling grateful for many things. Most of all, I am grateful that Kate is still with me and that we continue to experience “Happy Moments” together. They come and go as she experiences different moods throughout the day, but I come to expect them at some point every day. Christmas Day was like that.

She was still asleep when the caregiver arrived at 11:00. After getting her up and ready for our Christmas buffet at 1:00, she was still quiet. She remained that way for the balance of the day. I call this her “neutral” time because she expresses little emotion.

I have also grown accustomed to very nice evenings with her after the caregiver leaves at 7:00. I wasn’t sure that night would be one of them, but I got in bed with her right after my shower and turned on a YouTube video of “Christmas in Vienna” from 2008. We attended that very concert. That led me to reminisce with Kate, and I extended that to include many other experiences we have had during the Christmas season as well as other special times throughout our marriage.

As I talked, Kate perked up and began to smile. This continued for almost an hour until it was time to call it a day. She never said a word during this time, but her facial expressions conveyed her happiness and her love. Most of the day hadn’t been that special, but it ended beautifully. Her smile, facial expressions, and holding her hand made all the difference. It was a beautiful way to end another Christmas Day together. That was my best Christmas gift.

Two nights later and again last night, we had very similar evenings. I know moments like these may seem trivial, but they mean the world to me at this stage of her Alzheimer’s. They are part of why I say Kate is my greatest source of stress relief.

An Extraordinary Day

Once in a while, I highlight unusually positive experiences that I call “Happy Moments.” I use the word “moments” to emphasize that the experience is not usually long-lasting although it can occur over several hours.

On a typical day, Kate doesn’t express much emotion until the afternoon. She rarely says a word until after 2:00. This past Friday was very different. It began about eight o’clock in the morning and lasted until she fell asleep around 8:30 that night. It was a day filled with “Happy Moments.”

Kate generally sleeps late. Sometimes, she is asleep when the caregiver arrives at 11:00. Recently, however, she has waked up as early as 7:00. At 8:15 Friday morning, I checked on her. As I approached the bed, I could see that her eyes were open. I have a little routine that I follow each day when I see that she is awake. I say, “I think I see Kate. Yes, it is Kate. She’s my Texas gal. I’m so glad to see you.” Then I remind her that we started dating in our senior year of college, fell in love, and became engaged a year later. I go on to tell her that we’ve been married sixty years, and have two children, and five grandchildren.

Sometimes, but not always, she smiles. That day she smiled and started talking. She has aphasia, so I couldn’t understand much of what she said, but, as usual, I tried to play the role of facilitator saying things like, “Really?” “Tell me more.” “That’s interesting.” From that point, I got beside her in bed, and we began to talk. She dosed a few times, but we talked on and off until the caregiver arrived at 11:00.

A new person was filling in for our usual caregiver, so I wasn’t sure how Kate might respond to her, but she was fine as I left for lunch. While I was gone, the caregiver walked Kate around the hallways in her wheelchair and stopped to visit with residents in a couple of places. I learned later that she had been smiling and talking with other residents who had stopped to say hello.

Friday afternoon I had coffee with a longtime friend. When I arrived home, I went directly to the café where the caregiver had taken Kate for ice cream. I walked up behind Kate. As I looked around to see her face, she gave me a big smile. That happens frequently but not always. When it does, it warms my heart.

From there, we went to dinner in the community dining room where she always receives a lot of attention from the staff and other residents. She remained cheerful and talkative the entire meal. I can’t tell how long moments like these will last, and this time I was in for a surprise. She remained the way she had been all day until I turned out the lights around 8:30. It was an extraordinary day, unlike any I have seen before. I treasure moments like these.

Unanticipated Moments: Happy and Not-So-Happy

I couldn’t get along as well as I do if I didn’t have eight hours of care for Kate seven days a week; however, in-home care also has its stressful moments. One of those occurred Saturday when I received a call from the agency that provides our caregivers. They were letting me know that our regular weekend caregiver was on vacation and that they were having difficulty finding someone to fill in.

As it turned out, they were able to find a “floater” (a staff member who works on the grounds of our community and moves from place to place wherever needed) to come in for an hour to help me get Kate dressed and up for the day. They also had someone who would help feed Kate at dinner as well as help with getting her to bed.

Every Saturday, I meet three other guys for coffee off the grounds. I was disappointed about having to cancel, but it gave me more time to be with Kate. I decided Kate and I would make the most of the day, and that turned out to be far better than I could have imagined.

On a typical day, Kate gets breakfast right after we get her dressed and out of bed even though it is lunchtime. While she is eating, I go out for lunch. This gave us an opportunity that we had never had before – having lunch together in the dining room downstairs.

The lunch could not have gone better. We sat at the table where we eat for dinner each night so it is a familar spot for Kate. The dining room is always the quietest venue on the grounds, and Saturday lunch is not busy at all. I don’t know if that matters to Kate, but it does to me.

I fed Kate as I ate my own meal. Kate was in a cheerful mood, and the staff gave us a lot of attention since they weren’t as busy as usual. It was a very special time for both of us, and we celebrated the occasion by splitting one of my favorite desserts, a strawberry cheesecake. We spent almost two hours there.

It was a beautiful afternoon with temperatures in the low-80s, a break from the mid-90s we had had recently. It seemed like a good afternoon to go outside. We sat for another hour under the portico at the main entrance to our community. It was shady with a gentle breeze, and I used my phone to play music that Kate loves. She was fully engaged the entire time. She never stopped smiling. It was a very special moment.

We finished the day with dinner in the dining room where another caregiver met us. After dinner, the three of us returned to our apartment where we got Kate ready for bed.

Kate was tired and went to sleep right after the caregiver left, but we had had a very special day together. That’s one more thing for which I can feel grateful.