Unpredictability: Part 2

Early last week, I wrote a post in which I talked about Kate’s unpredictability and illustrated with the changes in her sleeping pattern. By itself, that is not a serious problem. It’s something to which I can adapt; however, the source of this change concerns me. She is far more insecure than ever and is often uneasy about getting up. For a long time, she has experienced anxiety upon waking, but it seems more serious now. Previously, I was able to get her up without any problem. Then she would begin to feel better. Her response now is to withdraw. That makes it hard for me to help her.

The change that has bothered me most is the first signs of hostility. So far, that has involved occasions when I am helping her in the bathroom, dressing in the morning, and getting her night clothes on.

One of these occurred one evening last week. We had a good afternoon though a short one since she got up a little later than usual. As sometimes happens, it was almost 3:00 when we finished lunch. She rested about an hour or a little longer. She was in a good humor when she finished resting and expressed an interest in the house. That led me to take her on a tour, something we haven’t done lately. We didn’t get very far, but that was because of her interest. It took a long time for me to point out items of interest and listen to her own reactions.

She rested again before going out to dinner. She seemed fine at the restaurant. All was well until we got to the bedroom. Our normal routine is to go first to the bathroom to brush our teeth. When I mentioned it, she said, “I’ll do it later.” I brushed my teeth. Then I got her night gown and took it to her. That’s when the trouble began. She snatched the gown from my hand and said, “I’ll do it later.” I told her that would be fine and settled in to watch the evening news.

At 8:00, I asked if she was ready for bed. She wasn’t, I told her I was going to take my shower but was very careful not to say it in the same tone of voice she had used. I knew that would exacerbate the problem and hoped that when I got out of the shower, her mood would have changed. That wasn’t in the cards.

When I came out of the bathroom, she was looking intently at the bedspread and running her fingers over it as though she were writing. I didn’t say anything. In a few minutes, I asked if she would like to get ready for bed. She was ready, and I told her I would help her. I walked to her side of the bed, picked up the night gown and put it next to her. Then she said something I didn’t understand. All I picked up was that she saw other people in the room and for some reason wanted me to sign my name on her gown. I did exactly what she had been doing on the bedspread. I pretended to sign my name on the front of her gown. After that, she asked a couple of questions about the people in the room. I told her they were gone now.

When I picked up the gown, she said, “I’m not wearing this.” She was adamant about it and added, “Get me something else.” I took the gown and went to the closet and came back with another. I said, “Let me help you.” She gave me a stern look and said, “You can, but we’re going to do this together. You understand?” I said, “That’s fine. I like for us to work together as a team.”

She took the gown and tried to figure out how to put it on. Quickly, she realized that she needed my help. Soon after that, she was in bed. She was awake when I called it a day over an hour later. She seemed to have forgotten the whole incident. It was a typical close to our day. I told her I loved her. She said the same to me.

The next day, we had a similar experience. She was up even earlier and was very cheerful and talkative. As she did the day before, she expressed great interest in the house. We tool a brief tour of the dining room and living room. Then we came back to the family room where we looked at photo books until time for lunch. It was a very nice morning and afternoon. That evening we had a repeat of the night before. Since then, there have been a couple of other times when she was rather hostile.

Concurrent with this change is an increase in her delusions. They often involve people who are in the house. This results in her whispering so that “they” can’t hear her. She is very insistent on my speaking the same way. Other times, she is concerned about some kind of project on which she is working. I haven’t been able to figure out what it is, but she is very worried.

My impression is the hostility with me arises for two reasons. First, I think they come at moments when she has forgotten who I am and doesn’t trust me. Second, she is worried or frightened by her delusions.

Once again, I turned to The Velveteen Rabbit (TVR) as a way to calm her and ease her concern about me. It is amazing how effective that can be. A few nights ago, she was quite troubled when I got in bed. It involved an event on which she was working and was concerned about the people working with her. I tried to divert her attention to other things. That didn’t work. Then I read TVR to her. She was attentive and responded audibly from the beginning. That is not typical. It usually takes a while. She calmed quickly. At the end, I thanked her for letting me read to her and told her I liked the book. She said she liked it as well. She asked me a number of questions about it. I was surprised because the questions indicated that she had grasped at least some of the content.

This morning I saw a tweet that said, “The #dementia caregiver’s goal is to communicate “Let’s solve this together.” I try to emulate this approach, but I don’t seem to be doing so effectively at these moments. That is something I will have to work on.

Although many things are unpredictable, I am happy to report that the day virtually always ends on a positive note. I would say 99.9% of the time. When I get in bed, I say, “Thank you for another nice day. We always have nice days, don’t we?” She agrees, and I tell her I love her. Occasionally, she does not reciprocate by saying she loves me. That’s when she doesn’t remember that I’m her husband. On those occasions, she sometimes laughs. Regardless of what she says, she is both at ease and happy. I can accept that. It’s far better than butting heads.

One More Surprise for the Day

Not long after my previous post, I checked on Kate. She was awake and said she was ready to get up. I’ve learned not to rush her and was very careful not to do so. When it came to actually getting up, she was very hesitant despite my precaution. This has happened several times over the past week. Once on her feet, she began to talk as though people were in the house or would be. She assumed I knew what she was talking about. This is also something that is not particularly unusual.

On the way to the bathroom she continued to talk. I have no idea what she was talking about. Her words were a mixture of words I understood with those that were garbled. She was having hallucinations about people and things in the room. She was very uneasy about going into the bathroom. It took me a while to coax her.

While on the toilet, she got some toilet paper in her hand and looked at it. She asked me if I had one too. Then she said something that made me think she thought the toilet paper was a man. It was a challenge to talk with her because I didn’t understand much of what she said.

She said she didn’t know what to do. I told her to get up from the toilet. My plan was to give her a shower. I have found that it is easier to get her in the shower if I don’t inform her until just after she gets up from the toilet. That didn’t work this time. She didn’t want to take off her gown. I tried to explain that she would need to take it off for me to get her clean. She continued to resist.

I decided the shower would make things worse. We brushed her teeth. She was still agitated. I felt it would be better to let her rest a while. Perhaps, she would be fine after that.

I went back one or two other times. She seemed to be over whatever had gotten to her; however she still didn’t want to get up. I bought a new bed last week. It was a little too high for Kate, and the mattress company was sending out someone to lower it for me. It was almost 2:30 when I received the call that they were on the way. That was when I felt the need to get her up. She responded well and was fine after that.

Last week, I bought her a robotic cat that meows, purrs, raises its head, and blinks its eyes. For almost an hour she was entertained by her cat. Then we had a Zoom call with our son. When we finished, it was time for dinner. We went to Andriana’s and had a very nice meal. She was rather confused when we got home. She asked where we were. When I told her, she wasn’t happy but didn’t say why. Fortunately, I had no trouble getting her ready for bed. She is resting peacefully though not asleep. It’s been a full day. I wonder what tomorrow holds.

Another First and, Hopefully, the Last

I had just gotten up and was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when I heard Kate scream. I was close, so I got there in a flash. She had gotten out of bed and fallen between a chair and the bedside table. She was frightened and hadn’t yet tried to get up. I first checked to make sure she wasn’t injured. She didn’t have any cuts or scratches. I asked if she was hurting. She wasn’t.

Having decided she was all right physically, I helped her into a sitting position before considering the best way to get her up. My first thought was to lift her from behind with my arms under her shoulders. The moment I put my arms in place, she yelled at me to stop. I had another idea. She was sitting by a chair, and I thought I might be able to get her on her knees with her arms in the seat of the chair and then help her up. She wasn’t able to understand or follow my instructions. That led me to think of getting her on her hands and knees. Then I might be able to lift her. She couldn’t understand that either even though I demonstrated several times.

I tried to lift her. She was frightened and wouldn’t cooperate with me. I have known others who faced this situation. They had called the fire department for help. I called 911 and explained the situation. I specifically mentioned the fire department, but the person I spoke with said they had to call EMS. I told her that was fine, but there was no need for a siren.

In less than five minutes, the doorbell rang. It turned out the EMS crew was in the neighborhood when they got the call. I briefed the young woman, Heather, and man, Kevin, on Kate’s Alzheimer’s. I explained that she can’t follow explanations and that she appeared to have suffered no physical injuries. In took almost no time for them to get her up and back in bed. Kevin got behind her with his arms under her shoulders while Heather positioned Kate’s legs. She responded the way she did when I tried; however, he moved more quickly than I did. She was on her feet in no time.

They asked her if she was all right. She said she was. Then she looked over and saw me. She apparently did not remember that I had been there at all. She immediately looked relieved and reached out to hug me. Kevin helped her into bed. She looked up at the two of them standing by the bed and expressed her appreciation. That was a few minutes before 8:00. She is still in bed at 11:30. All is well.

Sundowning?

One of the common symptoms associated with Alzheimer’s and other dementias is sundowning or sundowner’s syndrome. Until this week, I haven’t noticed this with Kate. The classic signs usually involve confusion and anxiety that occurs around sunset or early evening. She’s experienced a lot of confusion and some anxiety, but it has not been typically associated with the evening. In fact, afternoons and evenings have been the most predictably good parts of her day.

Kate’s behavior the past two nights leads me to suspect sundowning might be entering our lives. Thursday she was awake earlier than usual, around 8:30 as I recall. We had enough time for her to have breakfast and rest an hour or so before going for lunch around 11:30.

The balance of the day went well. She rested some, and we looked through one of her photo books. We had an early and pleasant dinner at Casa Bella. The pleasantry evaporated when we pulled into the garage at home. When I opened her door, she looked frightened and refused to get out of the car. She told me to get in.

I complied, and we chatted for a few minutes. She thought there were people in our house and wanted to avoid seeing them. I mentioned that it was our house, and we hadn’t invited anyone. We chatted a few minutes. Then she said, “Well, what do you want to do?” I said, “I think we should go inside and get ready for bed.” She said, “Okay,” and we went inside.

Everything was fine until near the time that I got in bed. She was frightened again and mentioned something about “them.” That is not unique. She frequently believes there are others in the house or on the way. I went in another direction and said, “Why don’t I come to bed now. I’d like to read something to you.” I got The Velveteen Rabbit and hopped into bed with her.

I’ve been reading the book to her for several months now, and she has never given me any sign that she recognizes it or has ever read it before. Her immediate response varies. Sometimes she is reluctant to go along with my suggestion that we read it. Other times, she seems to like the idea. In those cases, I get the feeling she just wants the comfort of our engaging in an activity together. That’s the way it was that night.

She didn’t make her normal audible responses to specific passages that catch her attention, but she did begin to relax. By the time we reached the end of the book, she was at ease. I thanked her for letting me read to her and told her I loved her. She said, “Me, too.” I turned out the light, and we were off to sleep.

Yesterday, she was wide awake when I got out of bed. She said wanted to get up. I suggested that she let me get up first and dress and then help her. She agreed. I thought she would be asleep by that time, but she surprised me. I got her up at 6:50, and fixed her breakfast. We had a good time. She was talkative and always enjoys her cheese toast. When she finished, she wanted more and enjoyed it just as much.

After breakfast, we went to the family room and looked at one of her family photo books until she wanted to rest. That was about 9:00. I had a Zoom meeting with my Men’s Coffee Club at 9:30. We were through at 11:00. I thought that would give us plenty of time to have lunch before I had another Zoom meeting with a United Way committee.

That idea went by the wayside when I discovered that Kate had gotten up from her rest just before I finished with my men’s group. She was looking around the house. When I mentioned lunch, she wasn’t interested. I decided to have lunch delivered. Before it arrived, she was resting again. Time was also running close to my noon meeting. I decided to eat after the meeting.

That turned out to be a good idea. Kate was ready to eat when the meeting ended. We were about to sit down when Mary, our Friday sitter, arrived. She had picked up a lunch for herself, and the three of us ate together. I have found that my departure is much smoother when I don’t have to leave immediately after the sitter gets here. That worked especially well yesterday. Kate was talkative, but it was difficult to understand what she was saying. When I returned, they were having a good time looking at one of Kate’s photo books. Mary said they had talked and looked at books the whole time I was gone.

We picked up a takeout meal for dinner. Before leaving, Kate wanted to go home. I told her we could pick up our dinner and take it home to eat. We enjoyed our meal, and I thought we would be off to the bedroom to get ready for the night. Kate had other ideas. She wanted me to take her to her home, not mine. On the way home, she repeated that she wanted me to take her to “her” home. I felt the need to prepare her that it was my home. I told her it was late and that it was best that she stay at my home and that I could take her to her home “in the morning.” She said the clothes she would need that night were at her home. I told her I had clothes for her. She said, “Well, I’d better call my mother.” A moment later, she said, “She’s not going to like this.” I assured her it would be all right. She was hesitant, but she agreed.

Once inside, she was still uneasy, but she let me help her in the bathroom and getting dressed. I put on some music that I thought she would like and helped her into bed. Then I took my shower. When I got out, I think she was asleep. I know that she didn’t say anything until I got in bed. Then it was just a soft chuckle. She sometimes does this to acknowledge that she is awake. On the other hand, it could have been that she was having a dream.

Was this a case of sundowning? I don’t know. She does seem to have had more delusions in the past few days. I have another thought. Following the guidance of Kate’s doctor, I have gradually eliminated her Aricept  (donepezil). She took the last tablet on Tuesday. Is this a symptom of withdrawal? Again, I don’t know. It could be that the experiences of the past two nights are not sundowning or signs of withdrawal. It could also be just another stage in the progression of her Alzheimer’s.

No matter how much a caregiver knows, one never knows it all. But that doesn’t keep us from trying. I think I’ll go back to her Aricept  tonight and follow the same withdrawal schedule we have for the past two weeks.

How Long Can The Velveteen Rabbit Last?

I know there is no end to the challenges that Kate and I experience. “Living with Alzheimer’s” isn’t something that gets easier along the way. I do wonder what will remain in my “caregiver’s toolbox” in the months ahead. My guided tours of our house with a focus on pictures of her parents and grandparents and other items from her parents’ home are no longer as effective as they were only a couple of months ago. I also find that I need to come up with new commentary related to the various family photo books in order to engage her attention.

Then there’s The Velveteen Rabbit. That something I haven’t relied on too heavily though it has come to the rescue 4-5 times over the past few days. She never gives any indication she has heard it before, but that’s true for other things that no longer have the same appeal. At the rate I am using it, I should soon find out how long it works. In the meantime, I’ll continue to pull it out when I feel the need.

That shouldn’t be long. Kate’s changes come about surprisingly quickly. One minute all is well, and the next she is disturbed about something. That happened two nights ago. The day had gone well and we had a nice takeout dinner. Then she was ready to go (home). We jumped in the car and drove for thirty minutes before getting home again. As usual, we went directly to the bathroom to brush teeth. That’s the first step in our nightly routine. She was in a good humor and brushing teeth was no problem. The next step is to take her nightly meds. That, too, went smoothly.

The final step is getting her out of her clothes and into her night clothes. That’s where I ran into a problem. It is pretty common for her to ask why she has to take off her clothes, but this time she simply got in bed with her clothes on. Not anticipating a problem, I told her I wanted to get her night clothes on before I took my shower. She said, “I’ll do it later.”  I knew that wouldn’t happen. In the first place, she wouldn’t know where to get what she needs or how to handle the nighttime underwear. I encouraged her to let me help her change for the night. She didn’t want any part of it. I saw immediately that it was going to be a losing cause. I backed away and told her I would take my shower. Each of us was annoyed by the other.

When I finished my shower, and as though I were going after my weapon for battle, I got The Velveteen Rabbit once again. When I got back, I said, “I thought it might be nice if we read a bedtime story.” Then I proceeded to read the book just as though we had never had the earlier clash. Like the past few readings, she didn’t show any sign of interest or approval when I started. By the end, however, she was a different person. At least for the time being, the Rabbit still works.

We talked a few moments about how much we both like the book. Then I said, “Well, it looks like it’s time for bed. I’ll be glad to help you change into your night clothes.” That was all it took (and, of course, TVR). It took no more than five minutes to get her changed and back in bed. Best of all, we were both in a good mood. That’s always a nice way to end the day.

Challenges, and The Velveteen Rabbit

Recently, Kate has experienced more and longer periods during which she seems to sink deeper into her Alzheimer’s. The primary symptoms involve her being tired, not wanting to get up in the morning, confusion related to not knowing where she is, who she is, and who I am. Her response has been withdrawal and fewer moments of cheerfulness. She has continued to rely on me to help her, but there have also been times when she responds to me like I am a stranger she mistrusts. One night she was very suspicious of me when we went to bed. I don’t recall another that has happened.

During the past few days, there have been at least four specific instances in which she didn’t know “anything” and seemed frightened. One of those occurred when she didn’t want to get up for lunch. I tried several times. She declined each time, and I let her continue to rest in bed.

The last time was over an hour after my first try. When she refused again, I asked if she would like me to read to her. She didn’t. I told her there was something I wanted to read and asked if she minded if I read it. She shrugged. I went to the family room and got The Velveteen Rabbit (TVR). I started to read. She wasn’t interested. I continued to read, and as I did, I could tell that she was paying more attention. By the time, I reached the end, she was fully absorbed and touched. I said, “Isn’t that a nice story?” She agreed. We chatted briefly. She was very much at ease. Then I asked if I could help her up for lunch. She said yes.

The next night she got in bed shortly after dinner. She was still awake an hour and a half later. That is not unusual, but she me what she could do. I got TVR again and read it to her. It worked the same way it had the day before.

Yesterday morning, she was awake and ready to get up at 6:30. After breakfast we spent some time with one of her photo books before she was tired. She was asleep when the sitter arrived at noon. I decided not to wake her before I left for Rotary. That may have been a mistake. When I got home she was still resting on the sofa. The sitter told me Kate wouldn’t talk to her the entire time and didn’t want the sandwich I had ordered from Panera.

After the sitter left, she wasn’t especially happy to see me and appeared to look at me with suspicion. I told her I was glad to see her and that I would like to read something to her. She didn’t express any great desire, but she didn’t protest either. Once again, I picked up TVR. The effect was the same. We talked a few minutes about how much we like the book. Then it was time for dinner.

Last night, we had a repeat of the night before. She was in bed a good while before she wanted to know what she could do. I read TVR again. This time I wondered if it would have the same impact since I had just read it to her before dinner. That was not a problem. She was perfectly at ease when I finished. Was her memory any better? I don’t know. I didn’t test her. I only know that she was comforted and went to sleep.

Subject: Anxiety: Mine, Not Kate’s: Part 2

When I wrote my previous post, I was feeling better psychologically because I could focus on the problem from the standpoint of caregiver stress rather than a cardiac issue. That meant I could exercise some measure of control over the situation and was comfortable with that.

I slept well through the night. The next day and night (Saturday) my readings continued to be normal. I was fine until 1:10 Monday morning. I woke up and went to the bathroom. As soon as I got back in bed, I realized this was one of those times I wasn’t going to drift back to sleep quickly. I felt very nervous. I went to the family room where I got in the recliner and took my BP. It was 161/91. That seemed a very significant jump, especially since I couldn’t identify any precipitating events that might account for it.

Even though it didn’t cause any harm, I did something I now know I shouldn’t have done without talking with my doctor. I took another tablet of my BP medication that I had taken not quite four hours earlier. I also took four aspirin (.81mg), something I had learned is fine when one suspects a possible heart attack. Having previously had success by simply relaxing in the recliner and listening to soft music, I decided to try that as well. Ten minutes later, my BP was 144/77, but it remained at approximately that level until I went back to bed at 3:15. I felt very nervous during the entire time as I grappled with the decision of going to the hospital or not. I decided not to go. That decision was based almost entirely thinking about what I would do with Kate.

Before fixing my breakfast at 6:10, I took another reading. It was 151/77. I was concerned again. I took another reading after breakfast at 7:00. It had dropped to 133/65. I felt better but continued to weigh the matter of a trip to the ER. That led me to prepare two pages of health/medical information that someone might need if I were incapacitated. I took a break at 7:50. My BP was 143/66. When I finished at 9:00, it was 139/73.

I decided to write a message to my doctor to send through his portal. That turned out to be stressful as I couldn’t remember the password, and the one I had stored was incorrect. I also ran into complications when I tried to reset the password. Ultimately, I decided to print it and hand deliver after Rotary. In the meantime, I tried to get Kate up before the sitter arrived at noon. I was unsuccessful. All this pushed the BP back to 146/84, and my heart rate was 79.

During the balance of the afternoon my BP fluctuated between 128/79 to 149/68. I was still uneasy about having another night like the one before. I called two friends who live nearby. They both agreed to be on call to stay with Kate should I decide to go to the hospital. I invited them over that evening so that I could show them where things are and provide other information that would be helpful. One has a daughter who is a nurse. She came along.

They spent about 45 minutes with me. The nurse asked me to tell my story and then take my BP. It was 146/86. We had a long discussion. To make a long story short, the nurse didn’t think my readings indicated a heart problem. More specifically, she said that if I were getting systolic readings over 170, she would have responded quite differently. Since my BP reached 161 only once, 151 twice, and the rest were a mixture from 111 to the mid-140s, she didn’t believe they looked so bad. In effect, she said, “You are over-reacting. Your problem is not likely to be your BP or your heart. It’s probably stress.”

When I heard that, I felt a release of tension almost immediately. I was very much at ease. That continued through the time I went to bed. I slept well. The next morning I took a 50-minute walk (inside the house, of course) and took another reading. The results were normal: 120/73, pulse 67.

Although everything was going well, I decided to keep the appointment with my primary care physician Wednesday afternoon. I wanted to talk in more detail with him about what happened and hear his opinion based on my records over the past fifteen years. His view was the same as that of the nurse and the friend with whom I had originally spoken. This was a matter of caregiver stress.

I considered that very good news. As I said earlier, I feel much more confident that I can do something to minimize, though not eliminate, my stress. It is now Saturday morning, over a week since my initial concern that became inflamed on Monday. My BP has been within normal ranges since my friends left the house Monday night.

As I reflect on the whole episode, I believe a number of factors were involved in my over-reaction. The most fundamental one was, indeed, the stress of caring for Kate. Although I have often had moments of frustration, this was the first time I had felt so tense. That led me to take my BP in the first place, something I hadn’t done in years since purchasing the monitor.

Beyond that, I haven’t thought much about my BP since the doctor originally put me on medication. That was a big psychological blow to me. Overall, I am a rather calm, easy-going person who has tried to take care of himself. I was wounded by having to rely on medication. A number of times since then, I have spoken with the doctor about discontinuing it because I was doing so well. Each time he has said that was because of the medication and told me I need to accept it and enjoy life.

Along with not thinking about my BP, I had never educated myself about normal fluctuations that occur. As a result, when I saw the first reading of 138/85, I was surprised and disturbed by it. I know now that it has probably been that high and higher during the normal course of a day even before Kate’s Alzheimer’s.

My OCD also plays a role. As in other aspects of my life, I want Kate to have the best care possible and that she is very dependent on me. I don’t want to look back and think that I should have done more to provide her the highest quality of life she can have while living with Alzheimer’s.

I have always recognized the importance of caring for myself. Maintaining my health is essential in order to properly care for Kate. From the point of her diagnosis 9 ½ years ago, I have done and still do many other things to minimize stress. Many of these were also things that Kate enjoys. That has given us many great moments together. Engaging sitters to be with Kate three afternoons a week and my decision to move to a continuing care retirement community are more clearly steps to help me.

But life is changing now. Kate continues her decline. That requires more of me than before, especially since sheltering in place. My experience with this faux-BP/cardiac problem has been an important sign that I need to consider other avenues to control stress.

Fortunately, I am aware of many options to achieve this objective. In addition, I have the willingness and wherewithal to draw upon them.

So, what’s next? I’ll talk about that in another post.

Anxiety: Mine, Not Kate’s: Part 1

Some of you may have noticed that I’ve been quiet over the past week. I usually blame that on being busy, but that is only a part of the reason this time. Let me explain.

I should preface the story by saying that as an adult, I have been attentive to my health and wellbeing. As early as my freshman year in college, I was active in the gym. At that time, I was into weightlifting. I bulked up to 198 pounds, but muscle accounted for a lot of that. I put exercise aside the rest of undergraduate and graduate school. That extended another 5-7 years when I launched a 10-year career teaching college.

During my first two years, I felt that college teaching was not the best fit for me. Finding something else that was more to my liking and talents required time and effort. That proved to be stressful. I took up running. I continued that for about 10-15 years before having some hip trouble. Then I took up walking. Once my business was going in the mid-80s, I joined the Y and have continued to the present time.

I didn’t give a lot of thought to what I eat until Kate was pregnant with our first child. She had gestational diabetes. Her doctor put her on a high protein diet. I went on it with her. Since then I have been more careful about what I eat. Over the years, my waist had grown, but my weight has gone down. I am almost 30 pounds lighter than I was during my senior year in high school.

I mention all this to say that I take my health seriously. It’s one of my OCD tendencies. I am also very sensitive to the impact that caregiving has on one’s health. During the 9 ½ years since Kate’s diagnosis, I have made numerous changes to minimize or reduce stress. Notable examples would be reducing, then ceasing, travel and engaging the help of sitters for Kate three afternoons a week. Another big step was making a commitment to move to a continuing care retirement community the first part of 2021.

Over the past year, Kate has required much more of my time than before. That has been especially true since sheltering in place. These things have clearly raised my level of stress.

That brings me to the past week. Three weeks ago, I had a routine telemedicine appointment with my doctor. He mentioned that I ought to take my blood pressure readings periodically. I didn’t get around to it; however, last Wednesday, I felt under more stress than usual. That made me think about my blood pressure. Although I have been a regular blood donor and then a platelet donor, I hadn’t taken it at home in years. I located my BP monitor that night.

The next morning, I had that same feeling as I walked from the bedroom to the kitchen to get my breakfast. I took by blood pressure. It was about 135/85. That may not be high in general, but it was most unusual for me. I have been on BP medication for ten years or more and my readings have always been about 110-120/70-80.

I ate breakfast and then took my regular morning walk. I walked 50 minutes and took my BP again. It was about the same. By 11:20, I had taken several other measures, all were within normal levels.

Then I went to the bedroom to get Kate up. She didn’t want to get up. I got in bed with her and remained with her for almost 40 minutes. She still didn’t want to get up.

When I got up, I took another reading. This time it had jumped back to 138/85. I relaxed in Kate’s recliner and played some soft music. That dropped the reading to 118/78. I took seven other readings between 12:30 and 7:30. They were all normal.

Friday morning before breakfast, my BP was 151/78. That got my attention. That made me wonder if I might be in the early stage of a heart attack. I thought about the symptoms I could remember. I didn’t seem to have any of them. I went to the computer to look for others.

I still didn’t have any of the signs of a heart issue; nevertheless, I started to think about going to the hospital to be checked. Then I thought about Kate. I knew hospitals had not been allowing family members to be with the patient. I also knew that I couldn’t leave Kate alone. I called the agency that provides our sitters and asked if they would have someone right away. The regular sitter was scheduled for 1:00. They were stretched thin and couldn’t get anyone.

I also remembered that when you go to the cardiac emergency room, they keep you a minimum of six hours and want you to stay overnight. I asked the agency about someone for the weekend just in case. Then I called a friend to see if she could come over if I needed her. She was willing to do that. It turned out, however, that she was able to offer a better perspective on the situation. I should say that she is well-informed about health issues because of her work with the hospital. In addition, her mother cared for her own husband with dementia. I shared by BP readings with her, and she said she thought it looked more like anxiety caused by stress than an impending heart attack but said it would be better to hear that from my doc. I had already left a message at his office.

When I spoke with the doctor’s nurse, she said the doctor’s interpretation was the same as my friends. I felt the same way but also felt I should err on the side of caution concerning a possible heart attack. I scheduled another telemedicine appointment with the doc for the following Wednesday.

In the meantime, the agency was able to contact the sitter and asked her to come early. I had trouble getting Kate up and was concerned about leaving her but planned to do it anyway. I decided to take the afternoon to myself. I ran several errands. I spent the rest of the afternoon at my office relaxing, not working. I watched an interesting lecture and conversation with a couple who are Buddhists. It came at a good time for me in that I was trying to do exactly what they were recommending – living in the moment. As Kate has declined, I have been spending much more time thinking about the future and plans for our move. After returning home, my BP was normal the rest of the day. I felt much better when I went to bed that night.

However, that isn’t the end of the story. This is already a long post. I’ll save that for my next one.

Azheimer’s Has Been Testing Me For The Past Two Days: Part 2

The next morning (Friday), I woke up just before 4:00 and was awake for 30-45 minutes. I made up for it by sleeping until 6:25. As I started to get up, Kate spoke to me. She was wide awake and ready to get up. I asked if I could go ahead and get to the bathroom and dressed before she got up. That was fine with her. I thought she might have gone back to sleep by the time I finished, but she still wanted to get up.

Everything went smoothly, and we were in the kitchen about 7:15. That is really early for her. I fixed breakfast for both of us. She was cheerful and loved her apple juice, blueberries, and cheese toast. It was one of those times she mentioned repeatedly how good everything was. I shared some of my scrambled eggs. She also liked them. She was talkative and didn’t know who I was, but we had a good time.

When we were through, I told her I wanted to show her something. We went to the family room where I picked up a photo book of her father’s family. We’ve looked at it a lot over the years but don’t usually get through the entire book before she wants to rest. That morning was a notable exception. She took far more interest in it than she has before, and we finished the whole album.

By this time, she was tired and wanted to rest. That’s when I got my laptop and sat in a chair across from her. We had enjoyed such a good time together that I was eager to write this post. She didn’t rest long and didn’t sleep at all before gathering three different photo books in her arms and got up from the sofa as though she were going someplace. Then her attention focused on the flowers and plants outside and inside.

Moments later we took a seat and began one of those long conversations in which she is the primary speaker. I can’t begin to summarize what she said. Much of it I didn’t understand. She talked about a child or children she was serving as a mentor. At least, that would be my interpretation. She was enthusiastic about the children and the work she was doing. I was happy to be a facilitator. As I suggested in my previous post, I was eager to write about having such a special experience, but I also hated to stop her. The conversation lasted almost forty-five minutes before I brought up the subject of lunch.

We got a takeout meal, and the good times continued until we finished our meal. I stepped away from the table to pay someone for work he had just completed on our swimming pool. When I got back to the table, the look on Kate’s face had changed dramatically. I mentioned it and asked what was troubling her. She was quiet and didn’t know what to say. Over the next ten minutes or so, she didn’t talk much. She was troubled by something, but her expression didn’t suggest the usual issues. She didn’t look like she was experiencing anxiety as she does in some moments when she doesn’t know “anything.” Neither did she look afraid. She tried several times to say something. Each time she had trouble getting it out.

We were silent a few minutes before she asked if she could tell me something. I was eager to hear and quickly agreed. She began by talking about a boy and a girl. I had a hard time making any sense of it but listened without saying anything. Several times, she said she didn’t want to hurt me. I just let her talk. As she continued, it became clear that a baby was involved in some way. I began to sense that the girl and boy had had a baby out of wedlock. From her first mention that what bothered her most was hurting me, I thought she might have had a delusion about having had an affair; however, that seemed too far-fetched. Gradually, I began to realize that the girl she was talking about was her and asked.

That began an additional conversation in which I tried to reassure her that I would forgive her and that we could continue our relationship as though it had never happened. The sitter arrived at that point. I told her we would join her shortly. We talked an additional 25 minutes before I walked Kate to the family room. We spoke with Mary a few minutes. Then I told Kate I had a few things I wanted to take care of in the kitchen (my office) and assured her I would be at home and Mary would be in the room with her.

Everything was all right for two hours before Kate walked into the kitchen looking for me. She was disturbed again. This time she wanted to talk with her mother. Like the issues I confronted the day before, I felt on the spot to say the “right” thing without knowing for sure what that was. This time I told her that her mother had died. I almost always avoid telling her because it sometimes bothers her though only momentarily. Normally, she accepts it without a problem.

It was different this time. She wasn’t hurt at all, but she adamantly refused to accept what I had said and continued to ask to call her. I reminded her that she had cared for her mother the last 5 ½ years of her life here in our house. She never believed what I said and asked to speak to her father. I reminded her that he had died 30 years ago. That didn’t fly any better than telling her about her mother.

At least, Kate decided to go in a different direction. She said she could call her parents’ church, and they would know. I told her we might have trouble reaching someone who might know about her parents. Strangely, she accepted that although she repeated her desire to call the church several other times over the next 30-45 minutes.

I brought up her brother and said we could call him. That pleased her, but I placed calls to Michigan where he and his wife are spending the summer and was unable to reach him. Then she talked about friends who might be able to help. I thought of a woman with whom she had worked when she was the church librarian. I was unable to reach her as well.

A couple of years ago, I started a 3-ring binder with information about Kate and her family. I remembered that it contained a copy of her father’s obituary. The binder was sitting on the table in front of us. I opened it and read the obituary. Kate finally accepted that her father had died. Then I went to my computer and pulled up her mother’s obituary and read it. She accepted that as well, but that led to an additional problem.

She was quiet for a moment before saying, “I have to go to Fort Worth.” That is where she was born and lived until two years after we married. She asked if I would take her. At first, I tried to discourage her, but that was a mistake. I switched gears and agreed to take her.

We got up from the sofa and went to the car for one of our regular drives “home.” I drove for 30 minutes before stopping to order a takeout pizza from a place near our house. During the drive, she calmed down and forgot all about going home or wanting to call her parents. We picked up the pizza brought it home, and the rest of the evening went well. The day’s crises were things of the past.

Alzheimer’s Has Been Testing Me For The Past Two Days: Part 1

Preface

I wrote most of this post yesterday (Saturday). That was 24 hours after I started. My intention was to write a brief summary of a special time Kate and I had Friday morning. I dropped those plans when other things took precedence. Although the morning had gone very well, the day turned out to be most unusual and very challenging. Even more unusual, was that it marked two days in a row that Kate faced problems that were especially difficult for me to address. A lot has happened. I won’t do justice to what occurred, but here’s the story in two parts, starting with Thursday.

Kate got up early on Wednesday and didn’t rest as much as usual during the day. Thus, it was no surprise that I needed to wake her on Thursday. At 11:00, I played music to wake her up gradually. After 30 minutes, I went in to see if she was awake. She wasn’t. That is unusual. Normally, she would be relaxing in bed while the music plays.

When I spoke to her, she responded and seemed sleepy but not disturbed in any way. I sat down on the bed beside her and chatted with her a few minutes. I told her it was getting close to lunch time. She wasn’t interested and said she would get up “in a little while.” We didn’t have any immediate plans, so I told her I would check a little later.

I checked at noon and again at 1:30. She still did not want to get up. She had a hair appointment at 3:00, so I tried again at 2:00. Still no luck. This time she looked somewhat disturbed and said, “Shhh” when I spoke. She pointed to the ceiling and very softly said, “See them?” I nodded and hoped that she wouldn’t ask me about “them.” She didn’t.

I mentioned that she had a hair appointment. She wasn’t interested. It didn’t matter if I cancelled, but I thought it might help her to get up and out. I encouraged her to go but decided not to push her.

I left the room to cancel the appointment. When I returned, she still seemed a little disturbed. I got in bed with her and put my arm around her. I told her I was there to help her with anything she needed and that I would protect her. We were mostly silent for almost an hour before she spoke. She sounded more awake. I told her it was after 3:00 and wondered if she would like to get up. This time she agreed. She was at ease again.

I’m not sure I understand why. I do know that “things” in her brain are changing all the time. She can change very quickly. Typically, that happens after she rests. My own guess is that her mind wanders a lot and she begins to have delusions and/or hallucinations, some of which trouble her. In the case of not wanting to get up, being patient often works. Comforting her also helps to shift my role from being the bad guy who wants her to do something she doesn’t want to do to that of a partner who really cares and wants to help. There are still a lot of unsolved mysteries for someone caring for a loved one with dementia.

Something else unusual happened that day. As I was helping her dress, she mentioned that she was going to have a baby “tomorrow.” She often thinks of herself as a much younger single woman and mentions that she wants to have children someday, so I didn’t think much about it until she said something else a short time before going to dinner.

We were looking at a family photo book when she said, “Where is the baby?” Things like this always raise a question for me, “What do I say?” The reflexive answer is always “What baby?” or “We don’t have a baby.” I didn’t think they were appropriate. She obviously thought we had a baby. I saw her stuffed bear sitting in a chair a few feet from us and said, “Oh, he’s right there.”

When I do something like this, I am never certain that what I decided will work, but I felt my options were limited. This time I was successful. I brought the bear to her, and she took it in her arms and held it lovingly like a new mother holding her newborn. We spent the next 15 minutes talking about the baby. At one point, Kate spoke to her (the gender changes frequently) and said, “I love you.” Then she looked at me and said, “Did you hear that, she said, ‘I love you, too.’”

It was close to the time I planned for us to leave for dinner. When I mentioned that to Kate, she said, “What about the baby? I can’t leave her.” Then I dug myself a hole and climbed in. I told her I knew someone who could come over and pretended to make a phone call to him. I didn’t think this through but assumed she would forget before we left. Not so. For the next few minutes she waiting impatiently for his arrival. Then she got worried about leaving the baby. I told her he was a nurse with lots of experience, but she continued to be concerned.

My next attempt to address the situation was to tell her I could call him back and ask if he could meet us at the restaurant. She was fine with that. Once again, I depended on her inability to remember what we were going to do before getting to the restaurant.

She continued to hold the bear in her arms all the way to the restaurant and at least once or twice said something about our meeting the nurse. Fortunately, she completely forgot everything but her baby before we arrived. We got out of the car. She cuddled her bear in her arms, and we walked in.

The hostess took us to a table with just two chairs. I asked if she could bring us another just in case Kate wanted to put the bear in a chair while she ate. She brought one, but Kate continued to hold the bear in her arms. I wondered what she would do when the food arrived. I soon found out. She wanted to put the bear down but didn’t know where. I got up and took the bear and placed him in the third chair where she could see him. That worked. We had a good dinner. When we were through, I picked up the bear and gave him to her, and we walked out to the car. There were no more surprises that day.

(See the post above for Part 2.)