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Growing Dependence

I continue to see different ways in which Kate expresses her growing dependence on me. It is expressed in lots of little things. Most of these are not brand new. It’s the number of different things that occur and the way in which she expresses them. For example, after the sitter left this afternoon, I asked if she had gotten along all right. She said yes. Then I said, “You know I always worry about you.” She said, “I know you do. Because you don’t want anything to happen to me. You’re a good husband.” I said, “I’ll always be there for you.” That kind of exchange is very common for us now.

At dinner, she asked me the name of the owner of Chalupas. I told her. Then I mentioned his wife and the children who also occasionally work there. She stopped me and let me know that I was telling her more than she could take in. I believe her honesty represents a sign of trust that I will respond with understanding to her own expression of vulnerability. She depends on me to know when to stop, and I do immediately. I not only stop, but I often apologize for going so far beyond what she had asked. I know that she can’t process much information and try not to overwhelm her, but I frequently go too far in answering her questions.

As we drove into the garage after dinner, she whispered and asked, “Are we staying here tonight?” She had asked the same question last night and always whispers when she asks. I suspect she thinks there might be somebody else who might hear her. Before getting out of the car, she asked (with hand signals as she often does) if she should take her cup into the house. As I have reported a number of times before, she often asks if she can work in the yard, if she can use her clippers, and where in the yard she should work. I have never told her that she can’t work in the yard. I assume asking for permission is just an extension of my handling so many other aspects of her life.

By themselves, none of these incidents is dramatic, but they, along with many other similar ones, suggest an increasingly greater acceptance of her dependence. As I think of it, one area where she had held on to her independence involves the clothes she wears. That is another area where she has really displayed more dependence. Coupled with my increased acceptance of what she wears, we are having fewer problems with clothes than in the past.

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Being Cooperative

In my recent entries I have paid particular attention to ways in which Kate has declined. One thing that I haven’t mentioned directly is that she has been unusually cooperative with me over the past few days. It isn’t that she is normally uncooperative, but she has held on to her independence and has expressed resistance to many things that I have done to help her. That involves things like offering her my hand when she is walking up or down steps, selecting clothes for her, or telling her about stains on here clothes. It also involves things like letting her know when it is time to go some place or how much time we have until we leave or whether we have a lot of time or whether we need to hurry.

Recently, she has not expressed the same degree of resistance or irritation. I don’t mean that it has disappeared, but that it is very noticeable that she has been much more agreeable in the past few days. I can’t help wondering if this might not be another indicator of her decline, that she is acknowledging her dependence on me and letting me take charge. I will also say that I have been increasingly respectful of her desire for independence and wonder if my own actions have been less threatening to her sense of independence.

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Sad Moment, – Sundowners?

About an hour ago, Kate came in from outside where she had been pulling leaves since we got home from dinner. I met her in the laundry room, and she said, “What now?” I told her it was time to take a shower and get into her night clothes for bed. She accepted that and went to shower.

After quite a while, I went back to her room to make sure she remembered to put on her night clothes. When I got there, she was about to get dressed to go out. I told her I was just coming back to remind her to put on her night clothes. She thanked me for that and said she was about to put on her regular clothes. I left the room.

In a little while she came into the kitchen fully dressed with her iPad in her hand along with a book of crossword puzzles. She was ready to go out to Panera or Barnes & Noble. I reminded her she needed to put on her night clothes. She went back to her room.

I had sat down in my chair in our bedroom when she walked in fully dressed. Once again, I told her it was time for her night clothes.

She went back to her room. When she returned, she was carrying a night gown but still dressed. She said, “I can just put this on over . . .” (did not finish). I told her she should take off the clothes she was wearing and just wear the night gown, that she would get hot wearing both.

She left again. She came back without the nightgown but had put on a different top. I stood up, walked over to her and put my arms around her and told her how much I loved her. She hugged me tightly and started to cry. She quickly stopped herself. Then I said, “Wouldn’t you like me to get you a night gown?” She nodded. I went back to her room and got a night gown and brought it to her. When I gave her the gown, I said, “We take care of each other, don’t we?” She agreed. Then I took the clothes she had been wearing and hung them up in her closet.’

I am back in the bedroom now. She is working on her iPad. When I walked in, I said, “The way you are lying there you look like the subject for an artist to paint.” Then I said, “We have a good time, don’t we?” She agreed. I said, “We’ve had a good time; we are still having a good time; and we are going to have more good times.”

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New Patterns

I have previously noted on several occasions that Kate will ask me if she can pull leaves outside as we approach the house after being away from home. This started as something only occasional. It is now becoming a regular pattern. Normally, she asks, “Can I pull some leaves?” After I tell her she can, she frequently asks, “Can I use the clippers?” Often she doesn’t say the word for clippers. She just closes and opens her right hand. I know what she means and tell her it’s all right. After that, usually as we have pulled in the driveway or garage, she says either, “Where can I start?” or “Where do you want me to start?” or just “Front or back.?” I sometimes tell her she can start anywhere she wants. Sometimes I know that we will be going out soon and don’t want her to get so hot that she needs a shower. In those cases, I sometimes suggest she choose a shady spot or even point out a shady spot if I see one. Having settled on where she will start doesn’t mean that is what she does because her memory doesn’t permit her to remember. She seems to gravitate mostly to the two flower beds along the driveway or the flower beds in the front of the house.

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Other Signs

After Kate and I got home from lunch today, I came inside. She wanted to pull leaves in the backyard. I had a 2:00 doctor’s appointment and had decided to take her with me rather than leaving here home alone. When I told her I was taking her, she didn’t question it at all. The same was true the last time I paid a visit to his office. My plan was to leave the house at 1:25 in order to be there 15 minutes before hand. At 1:10, I went outside and told her it was time to get ready to leave. She said she wanted to change tops. I told her that would be fine, but we didn’t have time for her to take a shower. She didn’t like that, but I thought she had agreed. I gave her a few minutes to change. Then I went back to her room where it appeared that she was getting ready to put on clean clothes. I told her I was just checking, that we needed to leave. I left her again. When I went back, she had just gotten out of the shower. I told her it was time to go and to hurry. I hate doing this, but she moves as though time doesn’t matter at all. Then I said, “I really need to go.” That led to a panic attack that didn’t fully cease until after we were in the doctor’s waiting room. What really bothers me more than that I caused the attack is that she is then so sorry that she has upset me.

We are now back home. She was fine even before we left the doctor’s. That is one of the positive things about Alzheimer’s. Shortly after we got home, she wanted to go outside to pull leaves. She asked me if she could do so. I told her she could. She asked if she could pull leaves in front. I told her she could. She came inside and put a shirt on over the top she was wearing. I was here in the kitchen. She walked in and asked if she could go outside. Again, I said she could. She asked if she could use the clippers. When I told her yes, she gave me a look of surprise as though I sometimes say no. I don’t ever recall doing so.

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A Very Good Day

This is one of those days that demonstrates that someone with Alzheimer’s can have good days. That is exactly what Kate has experienced today. Her mood all day long has been quite good. If it were not for the fact that she still couldn’t remember anything, I would have said she is as normal as she was years ago.

While the whole day was good, it was really late this afternoon and this evening that were the best. I had arranged a phone call with Tina, her cousin in Alaska. Prior to the phone call Kate was pulling leaves outside. When I went out to get her she came right away and was cheerful. In fairness to her, she has been coming in rather quickly most of the time when I call her now. That makes me feel a lot better.

We had a nice phone call with Tina although Kate had gotten hot and sticky and wanted to take a shower; so I finished up the conversation for her. This is the kind of thing she would never have done pre-Alzheimer’s. Yesterday Kevin called. She was on the phone a little while. Then she got in bed to rest.

After Kate had showered she was ready to go eat. There was a threat of rain. When we left it was not raining. Less than a half-mile from the restaurant the bottom dropped out. We sat in front of the restaurant about ten minutes waiting for it to let up. Finally, I remembered that we had some Stouffer’s lasagna in our freezer. I mentioned it to Kate, and we decided to come home. While I heated the lasagna in the microwave, Kate got out plates and napkins and silverware. This was the first time I can recall her taking anything like this kind of initiative in years.

After eating the lasagna, I mentioned that I might have some yogurt for dessert. She got it out for me, took the top off, and put a spoon in it and placed in front of my seat at the island. Again, I haven’t seen anything like this in years.

It was about 7:45 when we finished our yogurt. At 8:00, there was an ETV program on wildlife in Alaska coming on. We watched the entire show together. I mean we both watched without doing anything else. That is the first time I recall doing anything like that in years as well. During the program, Kate was quite talkative, making references to things that were shown on TV. Then when it was over at 9:00, she said good night. It had been a very good day.

One other thing I should mention. We talked about how nice it was to have the lasagna at home. She said, “We should do this more often.” I was wondering when we might transition to eating at home again. Maybe it will be sooner than I had expected.

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Asking Permission

As Kate and I were returning from lunch, she asked if she could pull a few leaves when we got home. I told her that would be fine. A few minutes later, she asked, “Now what will you allow me to do?” I said, “You sound like I’m your boss.” Then I said, “You can do anything you want to do.” As we drove into the driveway, she asked, “Can I work in the front (yard)?” I told her again that would be fine. She continues to ask permission rather frequently. She also frequently acts surprised when I say yes as though I never let her. The irony is that I still have never told her she couldn’t.

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Pleasant New Year’s Eve

About an hour ago, Kate and I returned from lunch at Bluefish. For the past several months we have had our Saturday lunch there. It is several cuts above our routine places. Beyond the quality of the food (Kate always gets scallops with sautéed vegetables and sweet potato fries, and I get various things. I had my favorite today, Andouille sausage and shrimp stew and a special house salad that I love.), I find that it makes for a relaxing ride to and from the restaurant. It is a full 25 minutes each way. That seemed especially appropriate today. Kate got to bed a little later last night (shortly after 9:00). Consequently, she slept later than usual. She wasn’t ready to go to Panera until 10:45. I had to help her find some clothes. She was quite groggy.

We stayed at Panera for an hour before she was ready to go. (Over the past few weeks she has not wanted to continue in one place for long. The exception would be that she can stay outside a good while when the weather cooperates.) I asked if she were ready for lunch, and she nodded. Then we headed to Bluefish.

She was quiet at the restaurant, something that is not unusual. After the meal, however, we chatted a bit in a real conversation which is rare. The funny thing is that the conversation began with a strange comment from Kate. Out of the blue she said, “Now, let’s see what else you can blame on Dr. Pepper.” I said, “You think I blame Dr. Pepper for things?” She gave me a look that meant, “Are you kidding?” Then she went on to say that I don’t blame anything else; it’s always Dr. Pepper. I didn’t push her to explain as I knew that she was simply imagining that I discourage her from drinking her favorite beverage. I suspect this is something that has been on her mind for a while. The only other thing I had noticed is that occasionally she asks, “Is it all right if I have a Dr. Pepper?” I always say yes. From this point, however, we started to talk about how different we are but how well things have worked out for us. We talked about the fact that we had been able to overlook the things on which we differ because of the important things we share.

We also had a nice conversation with our server. I had asked her how she compared the quality of Bluefish with other restaurants around town. She gave me a good answer. I mean by that she was able to tell me how it stacks up in her mind compared to a number of other restaurants with which we are familiar. It confirmed what I hoped; she thinks it is a cut above most restaurants but not quite as good as several others. Kate and I believe it is unusually good. What had started as a slow day had now turned into one of those special moments that makes a day successful. We left the restaurant feeling good. I think that experience will set the tone for the balance of the day. I feel especially confident because she stayed outside pruning for an hour after we returned from lunch. That is one of the most therapeutic things she does.

I neglected to say something else that is becoming a pattern Kate is establishing. She came into the family room where I am listening to music and have the TV on to one of the many bowl games. When she sat down on the sofa with her iPad, she also had her charging cable in her hand. I think I had mentioned previously that she sometimes disconnects it to take when we are going out, usually to Panera. In some cases, like now, we aren’t going anywhere. When she sat down, she put the cable on the coffee table and said, “I want to take this with us.” I said, “You’re prepared.”

Something else that is becoming commonplace is closing doors to the bedrooms and bathrooms before we leave the house. I’ve never said a word to her about doing this, but I suspect that is something else that she believes I have told her she should do. This is just another reminder of the many things that a person with Alzheimer’s will do apart from the more typical memory issues.

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Communicating Indirectly

I have often noted that Kate does not like to talk about her Alzheimer’s, but that she regularly makes indirect references to it. Here is an example from today. Last Friday her friend, Camille, invited her to lunch at noon today. I had suggested this time as I have Rotary at 12:30 on Monday. I arrived home from the office at 11:00 to make sure Kate would be ready when Camille arrived. I discovered that Kate had already come in from outside and had taken her shower before getting ready. I told her I would get her debit card for her and that I was putting a note indicating to tip $4.00 no matter what the check would be. She took the card and note which were in a small purse.” Knowing she might put it down in her room and not be able to find it later, I suggested she give it to me. She would have no part of that. Then I suggested that we put it in a place that both of us would know. She liked that. I told her I would put it on the corner of the island in the kitchen where I keep her daily calendar. She agreed to that.

Ten to fifteen minutes later she walked into the family room and said, “On the island in the kitchen.” I said, “You got it. Two thumbs up.” Then she said, “Four thumbs up” indicating that she was giving herself a pat on the back. No conversation about Alzheimer’s, just a subtle statement of the situation indicating her own recognition of her own memory problem.

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Meltdown and Recovery

This morning we leave Niagara-on-the-Lake for Chautauqua after a very pleasant 2-day stay. Everything had gone beautifully until last evening as we were preparing to go to dinner and a play. Here’s the story.

First, we had a big breakfast at our B&B finishing close to 10:00. When we came back to the room, Kate got back in the bed to rest a little while. She got up for us to meet Ellen Seacrest and her sister-in-law, Ann, for lunch at 12:15. That meant we ate lunch before our stomachs were ready for more food. After lunch, we. Went to a play at 2:00. When we got out after 4:00, we got ice cream. Then we came back to the room for Kate to rest a while before our dinner reservations at 6:30. She was stuffed and didn’t feel like eating, but we needed to eat before the play at 8:00.

As she was trying to find something to wear, I got up from my chair and my phone fell on the wooden floor. The noise frightened her, and she said something like, “Don’t do that.” I said, “I didn’t mean to do it.” Then she immediately broke down into tears and heavy breathing as if she were having what I call a panic attack. She told me she knew I would never scare her on purpose. She couldn’t stop crying and continued to breathe heavily. I tried to calm her down by putting my arms around her and holding her, but that didn’t seem to help. She went into the bathroom to put on her lipstick. I followed her and rubbed her back and started playing some soft music on my phone. As she continued to cry, she said, “my mind is going. The medicine is not working.” I held her tightly. She lay back down in to calm herself. She must have cried a total of 15 minutes. This was the biggest breakdown she has had.

For me this was a sign that she hasn’t deteriorated so much that she is unaware of her decline. I was moved by the anguish she expressed and couldn’t help thinking about how much of this she carries with her all the time without my being aware. If I can’t fully grasp the extent of her suffering, how could anyone else do so?

After she had calmed down and we prepared to leave, she commented that she was all right now, that she has just broken down. She went on to say that she thought that she normally is able to control herself better. Moments like this reinforce my efforts to avoid making her feel “not good” to quote a friend of mine. This is his advice for everyone in all situations. That is a special problem to avoid with Kate and, I believe, with other Alzheimer’s patients.