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The Ride to Memphis

After our early morning conversation yesterday in Nashville, I got up and dressed. Over the past year, I have requested a room that is near the breakfast area. That has worked well. I went to the lobby and brought my breakfast back to the room.

After being awake three different times the night before, I thought I would have to wake Kate to get her ready for the drive to Memphis. She surprised me as she often does. She got up around 9:15, and we made it to breakfast just before they closed at 10:00. She would have gone back to bed after her shower if I hadn’t told her they were getting ready to stop serving breakfast.

I was encouraged that we would be able to leave earlier than I had expected and sent a text to Jesse telling her that we would soon leave for Memphis. Then Kate wanted to rest again. She lay down on the sofa in our room and went to sleep. I woke her at 11:30, and we left the hotel just before noon.

Kate was in a very good mood and more talkative than usual. I have often mentioned that she gives higher evaluations to theatrical and musical performances than she would have done in the past. Recently, I also mentioned that she sees more beauty in things around her. She was very charitable in her assessment of the world around her yesterday. That lasted until she was sound a sleep last night. She liked the Residence Inn in which we stayed in Nashville. She loved the trees along the highway even though many of them were now without their leaves.

She was also very adaptable. We stopped at a Wendy’s for lunch. It was a cold day. When we got inside, she immediately commented on how cold it was. We discovered that the heat had gone our earlier that morning when it had been 27 degrees. I went to the car and got our jackets. She didn’t complain at all as we ate our meal in the cold. When I got up to get ketchup for her fries, I discovered that the two containers were empty. I mentioned it to an employee who (I thought) said he would take care of it. I thought he meant he was going to refill them and went back to our table. It was probably ten minutes before I went back for the ketchup. They were still empty. I asked again. This time the guy said they were out and asked if I wanted some. I told him I did. That is when he told me that they have it in packets. Earlier he had come back to the counter with them, but I had gone back to the table. He thought I didn’t want them. At any rate, Kate never complained about not having ketchup. She was simply happy to get it when it finally arrived.

I used to talk about Kate’s déjà vu experiences. The reason I haven’t mentioned them in a while is because she stopped having them (or talking about them). They were back yesterday. We had a detour that took us completely away from the highway and through a town we had never visited before. As we drove through it, she commented on different things she remembered. There were several other places along the road that she “remembered.”

About fifty miles out from Memphis, we passed homes along both sides of the highway. She commented on how nice they looked. She noted that they were small and unpretentious but kept up very nicely. She repeated this refrain for quite a while. I failed to see the same beauty, but I enjoyed the fact that she could see it.

Throughout the trip, she frequently asked, “Where are we?” and “Why are we here?” I explained that we were on the way to Memphis to celebrate Christmas with Jesse. Each time, she wanted to know who Jesse is. I told her that she is our daughter. Sometimes she was surprised that we have a daughter. Other times she remembered. When I mentioned her family, she asked Jesse’s husband’s name. When I told her, she almost always said, “He’s a nice guy.” That was not something new. She has been saying that for a long time.

We arrived in Memphis shortly after 4:00. We took a few minutes to unload the car. Then we were off to Jesse’s. It was a good travel day.

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A Day of Happy Moments

Yesterday I wrote about our finding joy while living with Alzheimer’s. I’m glad to report that we had another good day. They aren’t all that way, but the vast majority are. From the time she woke up until she went to bed, Kate was happy. She opened her eyes when I sat down on the bed beside her. She gave me a warm smile. She didn’t look at all groggy and didn’t seem at all bothered by my trying to get her up. I said, “I love you.” She touched her lips with her finger and pointed it at me to say, “I love you to.” I’m not sure if she remembered my name, but it seemed like she knew my name the entire day. She didn’t ask me one time.

We had a seniors’ Christmas lunch at our church at noon. As usual, I was concerned about having to get her up and ready so that we could be there on time. She wanted to sleep, but I told her we were going to a church luncheon. I asked if I could help her get up. She said I could and extended both her hands for me to pull her up from a lying position to sitting up on the side of the bed. It has also become common for her to ask, “What do I do now?” upon waking. I told her she could start with a shower. She held my hand while I walked her to the bathroom. She seemed especially needy and dependent all day. She asked me what to do for every step in the process of getting ready. I am amazed at how quickly she has fallen into accepting my help and that of her sitter.

I did have a surprise after she finished her shower. She was very sad. She told me that family was very important and that everyone would be there if they could. She never explained but from what she said, she thought someone had had an accident and died. In a few minutes, she had forgotten all about it.

As I helped her dress, she repeatedly thanked me for helping her. She and I both want her to do as much as she is able to do herself, but we are gradually drifting toward my doing more. For example, this morning I put her socks on her. It is really easier for me to do it than for her, and it certainly saves time when time is important.

Our lunch was served buffet style. That is a bit of a challenge for Kate. I was surprised that she served herself some salad. She hasn’t eaten a salad in a long time. I served her a piece of chicken and a slice of pizza as well as getting drinks for both of us. I cut her chicken for her after we were seated. After the meal and I had taken our plates to the trash, she pointed to the place where her plate had been and then pointed to the places of the others at the table. Each of the others was perfectly clean. Hers was covered in Oreo cookie crumbs from the crust of the piece of pie she had eaten. She smiled and then frowned. I was struck by the fact that she noticed. Because she often leaves a little mess around her plate, I had assumed that she didn’t notice. Now I know she does, at least when we are sharing a table with people we know.

I was touched by a couple of things that happened at the end of the meal. When we arrived, I had forgotten that we were meeting in a different location than usual. That meant we had to walk through the church and go down two different stairways. That required a good bit of effort for Kate. At the end of our meal, I decided I would bring the car around for her. I asked the people sitting next to me if they were going to be there for a few minutes and explained that I wanted to get the car and leave Kate at the table. They were happy to stay with her. When I started to get up, Kate wanted to go with me. They invited her to take my seat beside them and let me get the car. She consented. I am sure she got along just fine while I was gone, but when she saw me coming back to the table she beamed like a daughter seeing her mother or father after a short absence. Then the group sang a few Christmas carols. Shortly, Kate reached over and held my hand. She was definitely glad I was back.

We came back home for about an hour before going to Barnes & Noble for a full two hours. From there we went to dinner at Bonefish Grill. She never asked for my name or seemed especially confused. The exception would be when she went to the rest room. I had selected a seat so that I would be able to look straight at the place she would exit. When she came out, I started toward her. She was looking for me in several directions. When she finally saw me, she was greatly relieved. That is different from the past. On similar occasions when she hasn’t been able to find me she has been quite calm. I sense that she is becoming less secure as she becomes more dependent on me.

Once we were home, she picked up her iPad while I watched the evening news. When the news was over I turned on the latest Tabernacle Choir Christmas concert. I took my shower. When I got out, she had gone to bed. It’s too early to tell, but she may be needing more sleep now. Even though she is getting up later now, she is still getting up earlier than she wants to. Before she went to sleep, she thanked me. I told her I loved her, and she had tears in her eyes. I don’t know what brought them on. I wonder if she senses the change she is experiencing. Despite those changes, we had happy moments and enjoyed the day.

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Some things work out without much effort on my part.

Although I try to avoid or minimize making any morning obligations, I have not eliminated them entirely. One of those occurred last week when I had to go for my labs at the doctor’s office. Another occurred yesterday. I had made plans to take Betty Shiffron, a church friend, to see La Traviata at one of the Live in HD at the Met performances. Kate and I usually eat at the Bluefish Grill on Saturday, and it is short walk to the theater. The last time we did this was in the spring just before Kate began sleeping so late in the morning. I told Betty we would pick her up shortly after 11:00 unless Kate were having any trouble getting up. I was concerned that I might have a problem, so I decided to start early. When I went to the bedroom around 9:00, I found that Kate had already gotten up. From there it was smooth sailing. We even had enough time to get her a muffin at Panera before leaving for Betty’s house.

We had a very pleasant lunch although it seemed to be a more challenging experience for Kate than I expected. She wanted to be engaged in the conversation but had trouble understanding what we were talking about and remembering things we had already said. Quite a few times, she said things like, “Who are you talking about?” or “What are you talking about?” It didn’t present a problem for Betty and me, but I felt sorry for Kate. Betty is not as accustomed to being with Kate and is not as sensitive about her difficulty following conversations. It was a “sink-or-swim” experience for Kate.

The Live in HD at The Met performances significantly increased Kate’s enjoyment of opera. Although we had attended operas before then, I think she went more for my benefit than hers. Seeing opera on the big screen with the camera work that brings the viewer up close has made her enthusiastic. She has changed a lot since the spring, and I wondered how she would respond. Several years ago I had a “walk-on” role in La Traviata when a European opera company came to Knoxville. In addition, Kate and I attended a performance of the opera in Zurich during our last international trip in 2015. I didn’t expect her to remember the opera, but I did hope that she might recognize some of the music. She did enjoy the music, but the overall experience was not what I had hoped. She was very confused about what was going on. During the first intermission, she wanted me to explain it to her. It was simply too complex for her to grasp.

This was a good illustration of the fact that the intuitive” part of her mind still values “rational” thinking. I had wanted her to focus on the music which I knew she could enjoy and not worry about the plot and precisely what was going on. This is not something that is new at all. That is what is behind her efforts to know people’s names, where she is, and what they are saying on the news. It is easier for me to let go and let her enjoy life through her intuitive abilities than it is for her. Situations like this are good reminders to me that there is an intersection of the rational and intuitive processes.

After the opera, Betty wanted to take us to get ice cream. When we entered the shop, there were only a couple of open tables. I took Kate to one and asked her to stay with the table while we ordered. While we were in line she left the table and approached us. She never went back to the table. I’m not sure whether it was a result of confusion over what I had asked or that she felt more secure being near us. I think she was confused. I do know that she frequently is confused by almost any instruction she is given.

Similarly, at dinner I asked her to take one of two tables while I went to the counter to order. She wanted to go with me. When we walked to the counter, she wanted to go to a table. This is also a common occurrence. At one moment she wants one thing. The next she wants something else.

As I mentioned in a recent post, she is beginning to have trouble with words in her speech. Last night as we left dinner, I played a CD in the car. She said, “They wear this a lot.” I said, “What?” She said, “This song. They put it on a lot.”

Despite these things, we had a very nice day. Being with Betty was also good for both of us. She is 90 and quite fit and very active. She is also a big talker and speaks quickly. She also walks quickly. It was a good finish to a week of social and musical experiences.

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It began with a scream and ended with music.

About 4:30 yesterday morning, I was awakened with a loud scream. Kate had a bad dream. She was unable to tell me about it but was very frightened. This was a time to comfort her. I held her and told her she was all right, that she was safe and that I would take care of her. She calmed down and dosed off within fifteen minutes.

This was not the first time she has had a bad dream. Fortunately, they don’t happen often. Most of the dreams I have been aware of have been good ones. Until the past couple of years, she would talk while dreaming. They were always in a situation in which she was teaching children. I could easily see this as an outgrowth of her years as a school teacher and librarian/media specialist.

I stayed in bed until 5:10. I decided to let Kate sleep. She had responded so well to Valorie’s getting her up, showered and dressed last week that I felt comfortable letting her take care of her again. Before leaving, I told Kate I was going and that Valorie would take care of things. She seemed perfectly comfortable with that, and I left feeling good.

When I returned later in the afternoon, Valorie and Kate were in the family room having a serious conversation. They were talking about students and teaching. At least Kate was. Valorie appeared to be listening. I was pleased to see they were getting along well. They were talking as two friends might do. I am still surprised, but glad, that Kate is willing to let her help with her shower and getting dressed.

We ended the day with an annual Christmas dinner with music at Casa Bella. It was a wonderful evening. The meal was outstanding, and the conversation lively although it was hard for Kate to keep up. She couldn’t hear or understand much of what was being said. She frequently asked me to tell her what people had said. As I have been doing lately, I cut her meat (a very tender beef tenderloin) for her. That is something new within the past couple of weeks.

This was another bitter sweet occasion for me. I can’t predict the future, but I know that next Christmas will be very different from this one. I am glad that it went well. Kate and I both loved the music, and we ended the evening singing Christmas carols. We don’t know most of the sixty or guests who were there, but we are accustomed to seeing them for these musical nights throughout the year. It was a beautiful shared experience for everyone.

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A Good Day

Yesterday morning, I walked into our bedroom at 11:00 to check on Kate. She looked like she was asleep but opened her eyes as I approached her. She smiled and asked, “Who are you?” I said, “Would you like to guess?” She said, “My husband?” I said, “We’re off to a good start?” She smiled. She asked my name and then hers. I told her and said I would like to take her to lunch. She said she was hungry but needed her clothes. I pointed them out to her and asked if she wanted to shower. She didn’t. That helped us get ready more quickly than usual.

She was in a good humor and showed a good understanding of my personality. As we walked out of the house, she spit on the floor of the garage. Then she said, “I know that bothers you.” I said, “What makes you think that?” She said, “You like everything just right.” I don’t say much about this, but she frequently says things about me (mostly my OCD tendencies) that are right on target. It continues to amaze me that her feelings for people and things are so strong even as her memory fades.

At home, in the car, at lunch, and the balance of the day, she frequently asked, “Where are we right now?” As I have said before, this is a common experience. It just occurred more yesterday.

The weather this week and next is supposed to be cold, so I wanted to get her a couple of new sweaters. I took her to a department store not far from the restaurant where we had lunch. I had mentioned this before lunch, and she frowned. She doesn’t care much for shopping. It could be that it is too confusing for her to look at her options and make a decision. After lunch I didn’t tell her where we were going. I just drove to the store. We got out and went directly to the sweaters. I picked out three things in the right size and asked how she liked them. They were fine. She wasn’t excited about having new clothes, but I felt better than we have more options now.

We had dinner with friends we had met at Casa Bella on their Broadway nights. We have gotten together with them on several other occasions. Kate was less active in our conversation than the three of us, but she enjoyed herself. We will be with them this coming Monday night at Casa Bella for their annual Christmas dinner and again next Wednesday for a concert a short drive from Knoxville. It’s good for both of us to expand our social connections.

When we got home, we watched a series of YouTube videos of Christmas music sung by the Tabernacle Choir. She was enthralled by them. When I turned off the music, she talked about how much she enjoyed our being able to share in the music together. As I helped her get ready for bed, we had another special moment. She thanked me “for all you do for me.” She said she thought we were a good match for each other.  It wasn’t until she said, “I think we are going to make a good team.” that I realized she was talking as though we were not married but anticipating it. She was optimistic about our future together and stumbled over her words. I said, “Do you mean ‘mature together?’” She said, “Yes, we’re going to mature together.” Then she mentioned that she was going to want children and thought I felt the same way. As we got into bed, she said, “This is the first time I have felt like a real grown up.” She continued to talk about how good she felt about us. It was interesting that she never asked my name, her name, or the names of her parents. She was absorbed in our relationship, and so was I.

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Special Moments Yesterday

Not every moment of every day is special. Some are discouraging, sad, or trying. As I have noted many times, we have experienced relatively few of those. I find that we have enough uplifting moments to offset those I would like to forget. Some of those involve planned events like our regular dinners at Casa Bella for their music nights or our visits with family and friends. Many of them occur without any planning at all. They just happen without any prior expectation. That was the case yesterday.

It was a day for the sitter. This was only the second time that Valorie has been with us. She will now be our regular sitter on Mondays. I was especially eager to get Kate up a little earlier than usual. As time passed and Kate had not gotten up on her own, I began to think of a new plan for the sitter. I decided to let her sleep until 11:00. That would leave an hour for her to get showered and dressed before I left at noon. It would relieve me of the pressure of getting her up and dressed and to Panera for a sandwich before I left. I would simply let the sitter take her to lunch while I go to Rotary. Assuming it worked, it would be something we could do on a regular basis from now own.

At 11:00, I went into the bedroom and sat down on the bed next to Kate. She looked up at me and smiled. We began a fifteen-minute conversation that for me was as tender a conversation as we have ever had, and she didn’t even know my name.

RICHARD:               “You look relaxed.”

KATE:                       “I am.”

RICHARD:               “I’m glad.”

KATE:                       “Where am I?”

RICHARD:               “You’re in your very own bed in our house in Knoxville, Tennessee.”

KATE:                       “We have a house?”

From this point, we went through our usual conversation, at least in the words that were spoken. She wanted to know my name, her name, and her parents’ names. If you read these posts with any regularity, you can pretty easily grasp the content of the conversation. What was different about this one was the tone. She was very relaxed and sleepy. I responded in kind. It was much more like a father talking with his young child. She was trusting me as the person with the answers to her questions. I am touched by her growing dependence.The difference between this situation and with a child is that she can’t remember. A child can or will learn. That’s not going to happen with Kate.

Our conversation ended when she said she was sleepy and wanted to rest some more. I explained that I would be leaving and that Valorie would be with her. She didn’t remember Valorie, but I told her she was here last week and that she had liked her. I also explained that Valorie would be happy to help her with her shower and clothes if she needed help. She was comfortable with that, and I left her to rest. Equally important was the fact that I was comfortable. I let go of my desire to get her up, dressed, and to lunch. I accepted that this change needed to occur. It enabled me to have an easy conversation with Kate rather than pushing her to get up when she really wanted to stay in bed.

When Valorie arrived, I explained that Kate was still sleeping and talked with her about helping her get up and to the shower and dressing. I made it clear that this was the first time anyone else had helped with these things but that I thought Kate would be cooperative. When I arrived home, they were both in the family room. I walked Valorie to the door. She said she had helped Kate with the shower (not sure exactly how much help she had to provide) and getting dressed and that Kate accepted willingly. I was delighted. I have known we would face this step sometime and wondered how we might make a smooth transition. It turns out to have been easier than I expected. Of course, it may not be this way every time, but it’s a great start. Having the sitter assume this responsibility will ease my stress a good bit. I won’t have to worry about pushing her to get up.

After Valorie was gone, Kate and I sat side by side on the love seat in our family room and looked at one of the photo books of her family. This is one put together by her brother Ken and her cousin Sharon. It is the story of the Franklin Family Veil. One of Kate’s aunts bought the veil in Brussels in 1924 for her wedding. It has been worn by many brides in the family since that time. It contains a bit more narrative than some of the other photo books. I read to her, and she loved seeing the photos. I was touched again to share in that moment.

I try to make a point of moments like these because it is so easy to think her memory loss would prevent our experiencing such pleasures. It is true that there are things we did before that are no longer part of our lives, but much of that is offset by other things that she can appreciate. There will be a time when those will diminish as well. I’m not going to worry about those right now. I’d rather focus on these special moments that still come our way.

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A Good Last Day with the Franklins

Late yesterday afternoon, Virginia and Ken caught a flight back to Texas. It was a very good visit for us, and, I believe, for them. I really hated to see them go. Given Ken’s own Alzheimer’s diagnosis, one might expect them to be understanding of our situation, and they are. They are also very thoughtful guests and were long before Alzheimer’s entered both of our worlds. They are the only people I know who can visit and make you feel like you are the guest. That’s a good thing; they make you feel special.

For me, the highlight of the visit was the first afternoon when Kate and Ken spent over three hours together going through family photo books. Even though Virginia and I were in the kitchen the whole time, it was special for us to know they were having such a special moment together.

Each day Kate slept late and would have slept later if I hadn’t gotten her up. Yesterday she was especially tired, but she got up without a fuss. I hated to wake her, I felt like the time with the Franklins was too precious to let her sleep too long.

I’ve reported on two recent social situations in which Kate’s conversation has been unusually bold as though she were working to get attention. She had one of those experiences yesterday before going to lunch. I think she was trying to be humorous, but it wasn’t working. It was totally unlike her. It continued for a time at lunch, but she soon settled down.

Kate and Ken have a cousin whose husband had Alzheimer’s. I know that she used to carry small cards that she gave to people letting them know of her husband’s diagnosis and asking for their understanding. I’ve kept that tucked away in the back of my mind for a  long time but haven’t felt a need for them. These recent experiences have led me to believe otherwise.

After returning from lunch, we had another hour to relax before the Franklins left for the airport. I have to admit to more than a bit of sadness as their departure approached. I can’t predict if and when the four of us might be together again. As I have said in other posts, I know it is unlikely that we will make another trip to Texas. I also know that Kate will not be the same if they are able to visit us again. In that sense, this visit was another of those “last moments” that become treasured memories.

There were a number of things that made our time together special. The obvious one is the sibling relationship between Kate and Ken. It is also the longevity of our relationship as couples. We have lived apart all that time, but we have visited in one another’s homes many times. We have shared responsibilities of parent care. Now there is something else that unites us. We are all living with Alzheimer’s. Throughout their visit, I could sense that connection. Ken and Virginia were very understanding about things like getting started in the morning and my having to step aside to help Kate get ready. It was a little like having a support group at our house for the entire visit. I’ll miss that.

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Another Good Day

Kate didn’t want to get up yesterday. I suspect that may have been a result of our having gotten to bed a little later the night before and our early morning experience when she lost another hour’s sleep. Not only that, I feel sure it was taxing for her to be in a lengthy social situation during most of the day and that evening. Ken and Virginia went to Panera early and then came over to the house while I was trying to get Kate ready. Their being here helped me explain why I wanted her to get up. She didn’t protest at all. She was simply tired.

We went to lunch at one of Ken’s favorite places from his past visits. We ended lunch with a special dessert, hot fudge sundae over a brownie in a large goblet. Kate and I have watched it served during the forty years we have eaten there. We’ve always said that one day we would have to try it. It was Ken’s birthday. That seemed like the time, and it was.

Once back at the house, Kate lay down to rest in our bedroom. I think she rested a full two hours before I got her up. She and Ken looked over more of the photo books and then we were off to dinner. We had another good meal, conversation, and, of course, a high-calorie dessert. It was another good way to celebrate Ken’s 75th birthday.

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A Great Day with the Franklins

I love being able to report good news, and that’s what I have in this report. Yesterday was our first full day with Ken and Virginia. Kate did not sleep as late as she has been. That enabled us to meet them at Panera for Kate’s muffin, morning beverages, and good conversation. From there we went to lunch at Carla’s. We are taking them to some of our regular places to give them an idea of our daily routine for the past few years.

If the day had ended right after lunch, I would have said we had a really good day, but the best was yet to come. Virginia and I were both hoping that Kate and Ken would have an opportunity to enjoy their time together apart from the four of us. I wasn’t quite sure how we might orchestrate that, but that turned out not to be a problem. After we returned home, they sat down on the sofa in the family room and started looking at some of the family photo books. Virginia and I made an exit to the kitchen. The two of them reviewed family photos and talked for at least three hours. I don’t recall another time that Kate has engaged in conversation with anyone else for that length of time.

I only wish I could have listened in on what they were saying. I do know one thing. More than two hours after they had been talking, Virginia heard Kate say, “What’s your name?” After Ken answered, she said, “And you’re my brother?” Later I mentioned that to Ken. He said she asked his name several times as they were talking. He said she asked very naturally. I was so glad he had that experience. That is exactly the experience I have with her.

Before we left for dinner. I asked if she would like to use the bathroom before we left. She said, “Yes, where is it?” I told her I would show her. She met the three of us in the kitchen a few minutes later. She walked in as though she had never been there before and said, “This is a nice kitchen.”

We topped off our day with dinner at Casa Bella. It was the last night for their program of music from Les Miserables. All of us enjoyed the music and food. It was a great evening and a suiting end to a very good day.

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Music and Time with Friends

After returning from the museum yesterday, I decided to make dinner reservations at Casa Bella. I knew it was one of their Broadway nights and that they were having another performance of the music from Les Miserables. We had already seen it once, so I wanted to see if we could eat in the front room that is separated from the music. To my surprise, they told me that I had reservations for four people in the room with the music. At first, I started to decline. Then I thought it might be fun to go and take someone with us. We’d been to dinner with Angela and Marvin Green a couple of weeks ago and have talked with them about the music nights at Casa Bella several times. I called, and they were able to go with us.

Kate and I had a wonderful time. Both the conversation and music were “as good as it gets.” It was a lively audience. That meant it was noisier before the music started. That didn’t prevent our own lively conversation. I do think it was harder for Kate to understand what was being said, but she enjoyed herself as much as the rest of us. She was moved by the music and expressed her joy audibly though softly enough that only those seated close to her could hear.

It was a day that could have been an ordinary Thursday, but it turned out to be special. The visit to the museum and the dinner and music with good friends were the highlight. I make a point of this because so many of my recent posts have focused on Kate’s decline, and I like to communicate that we continue to enjoy life. I don’t mean to minimize the sadness that accompanies Kate’s Alzheimer’s, but the stimulation of getting out as much as we can makes a significant difference in how well we are able to adapt. It works.

After dropping the Greens off at their home last night, Kate said, “Are we legal?” I said, “Do you mean ‘Are we legally married?’” I told her we are, and she said, “Good.” Later, when we got in bed, she said, “I love you.” I said, “And, we’re legal.”