Posted on

Our Days Are Always Eventful

Kate was up early once again on Friday. This time it was right after I had dressed and was about to get breakfast. She seemed less disoriented than usual. I got her ready with no problem, and we went to the kitchen where we had breakfast together. When we finished, she wanted to “go home.” I took her for a 20-minute drive.

When we returned home, we sat down on the sofa to look at a photo book. We didn’t even open the cover before she wanted to rest. I went to the desk in the kitchen. It wasn’t long before I heard her say something. She was getting up and wanted to go home. We took another ride and were back home before 10:00. She was ready to rest.

I was preparing for a Zoom meeting at 2:00 and was testing my setup in the guest room when I heard her say, “Hello.” When I got to the family room, she was walking in from the kitchen. She was greatly relieved to see me. She also seemed disturbed by something. I tried to comfort her for a few minutes before she told she told me she had done something she regretted. She said it wasn’t a big thing and that other people might think nothing of it, but to her it mattered.

I asked if she could tell me about it. We sat down. She wanted to tell me but said she didn’t know how. As often happens, she wasn’t able to give me a consistent explanation of the problem. I did learn that it was something that had occurred in the past and that it involved the two of us. Once or twice she said she couldn’t even remember what it was. Later on, I asked her if she remembered what she had done, and she said she could. She just didn’t know how to tell me. I assured her that it would not be a problem for me. She said she knew that, and that made it even harder to tell me.

It seemed like a good time to try to divert her attention. Even though it was a little early, I suggested we order a meal and bring it home for lunch. She agreed, and we got in the car again. She was troubled all the way to the restaurant but apparently forgot everything on the way home. She didn’t said another word. I wonder what she thought she had done.

Posted on

Two of Friday’s Delusions

Kate’s brain continues to work on overtime. Her delusions are rampant. Fortunately, the vast majority of them are harmless. One of those occurred in the wee hours Friday morning.

Around 2:00 a.m., I awoke when I heard her say something. Initially, I didn’t understand, but she apparently had a dream. She talked about “Them.” As she continued, I learned that they were a couple who had experienced something that seemed to bother her. She was close to being in tears and talked about thirty minutes. During that time, I asked a few questions for clarification, but it still wasn’t clear what was disturbing her. After a while, she was whimpering. I said, “Tell me what’s bothering you? Why are you unhappy?” She said, “I’m not unhappy. I’m happy for them.” She never told me exactly why, but I gathered that a couple of young people she knew had gotten married. What I thought was an expression of sadness was really joy.

The other incident happened while the sitter was here. Except for a brief time when I went to the grocery store, I remained in the house. That has become typical during our period of sheltering. Kate spent part of the time looking at a photo book and talking with Mary. Then she rested for a short time. Just before 4:00, I overheard her say something to Mary that made me think she was concerned about something. I listened more closely and heard her say she needed to go home. Mary explained that she was at home, but, of course, that didn’t work. I’ve learned that myself, but I still test it from time to time. Occasionally, it works momentarily.

A few minutes later, I went in the room to check on Kate. She was emotional when she saw me. It was one of those occasions when she felt an intense need for my help. With much relief, she said she was glad to see me. She asked if I could take her home. I said I would. Although Mary wasn’t scheduled to leave for another hour, I let her go, and Kate and I went for a ride.

This was the second time recently when we left for “home” almost fifty minutes before I was scheduled to pick up dinner from a caterer at 5:00. I am glad to report that the ride was worth it. Kate was calm in the car and forgot all about going home. We brought the dinner home and had a pleasant meal and evening afterward.

Alzheimer’s continues to pull her in different directions. That requires more attention from me. It’s not just a time issue. It’s also figuring out how to respond to each new situation. Despite having a lot of tools in my toolbox, I frequently find a need for something new. I now have a better understanding of why “Do-it-yourself” home repair people always need new tools.

Posted on

A Shift from Confusion to Enjoyment

It is 2:00 Sunday afternoon as I begin this post. Kate and I returned from lunch an hour ago. As is her custom, she took her place on the sofa in our family room and has been resting ever since while I busied myself with several tasks on my laptop in a chair across from her.

She was asleep for almost an hour before waking and looking through a photo book our son Kevin had made of a trip we made to New York City in 2015. We had taken him and his youngest son along with our daughter Jesse and her twin sons. It was the last big trip we took. Kate doesn’t often browse through the book, and I was surprised to see her so engaged with it. She talked to herself all the way through it. I wasn’t clear whether she was awake or asleep, but she enjoyed herself. I didn’t pick up everything she said. It didn’t appear that she recognized it as a book with photos of people she knows (knew?). Her comments were just about what she saw. When she finished, she closed her eyes a few minutes then opened them and said, “I like this place. I really really like it. Ahhh.” I caught her eye and said, “You look happy.” She said, “I am. Are you?” I said, “I’m very happy,” and I was.

The day didn’t begin this way. When I first heard her this morning, it was 9:45. She looked like she was contemplating whether or not she should get up. I said, “Good morning. It’s good to see you.” She didn’t give me the smile I was hoping for. Instead, it was a look that suggested she had no idea who I was and wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

It didn’t take long to discover that she seemed wide awake but unsure of what she should do. I told her it looked like she was about to get up and said I would be glad to help her. She wasn’t sure. I told her I could get her clothes for the day and make breakfast for her. She hesitated. Then she asked me if I would take her home. I told her I would. That was all she needed.

I got her up and to the bathroom without any difficulty. She was perfectly comfortable with me throughout the bathroom routine and getting dressed although she never gave any sign of affection or strong feeling about me.

The first sign of happiness came when we walked into the family room. She first stopped to look at the African violets. Then she saw the poinsettias that are still healthy, if not completely red, after six months. Next she took interest in her ceramic cat and then a photo of our son when he was about 8 or 10. She was beginning to cheer up.

By the time we got to the kitchen for breakfast it was almost 10:30. I decided to take advantage of her being up early and get an early lunch at Andriana’s; therefore, I only gave her juice and a small bowl of blueberries and raspberries. We have three anniversary cards on our kitchen table. At almost every meal she likes to look at them and have me read them to her. It is interesting that even when she doesn’t realize that I am her husband, reading the cards does not strike her as a surprise. That was the way it went this morning.

While she was eating, she seemed to become increasingly at ease. She hasn’t mentioned my taking her home again. That continued on the drive to the restaurant. We enjoyed our time together at lunch. At one point, our server introduced us to her 11-year-old daughter who happened to be there. As they walked away from the table, Kate said, “Mr. and Mrs.? Does that mean . . .” She didn’t finish the question. I said, “Yes, we are husband and wife.” She was quite surprised. I was even more surprised that she remembered the server’s referring to us as “Mr. and Mrs.”  I told her we had just celebrated our 57th anniversary a week ago. Then I said, “I hope that doesn’t bother you.” She said it didn’t, and it looked as though she were telling the truth. This led to a wonderful conversation about the good times we have had.

This kind of transition often occurs in the morning. It begins with her having a blank slate with respect to her recollections of anything. That leads to a feeling of concern that is sometimes very mild. Other times it is more intense. In every case, she ultimately comes out of it as she is exposed to more experience with her surroundings. She begins to feel at home.

As I close this post, she is once again looking at the NYC photo book. She just said to herself, “Isn’t this wonderful? <pause> Let’s see who all is in here. <pause> Okie Dokie. <pause> You’ll love it. <pause> Let’s see. Just a minute. Let me see. Hey.” She is obviously happy, and I am happy to see her enjoy it by herself. That is a rare event.

Posted on

An Update on “Knowing” Me

Tuesday got off to a better start than Monday, but there was a blip that afternoon. Kate had been resting on the sofa, but I could see that she was awake. An old Ronnie Milsap album was playing, and he was singing “What a Difference You Made in My Life.” I walked over to Kate and said, “That’s what I could be saying to you.” She said, “What?” I explained and she gave me a dirty look. I realized that she hadn’t recognized me, but I was startled and said, “Help me understand. Why you did that?” She said, “I don’t know,” a stock answer for almost everything. Then I said, “I think I understand. You don’t know who I am.” She said she did, and I said, “Who?” She said, “The girl across the street.”

I didn’t tell her otherwise and took my seat again. In less than three or four minutes, she made an abrupt change in mood. She looked at me cheerfully and sat up. She started to stand but then picked up two of her photo books and wanted to take them home. She asked me to put them somewhere. I took them. She found several other books she wanted to take with her.

Then she wanted to go to the bathroom. She gave me a smile and cheerfully spoke to me as though the previous incident had never happened. I am sure she had no recollection. I showed her to the bathroom. When she was finished, I thought we would get ready for dinner. Instead, she got in bed and pulled the sheet over her. I was concerned that she might not get up, but she surprised me. Only a few minutes passed before she got up on her own, and we had dinner. She seemed just fine. That didn’t mean that she recognized me as her husband, but she was as friendly with me as she normally is. The following day we had a similar experience that was just as short-lived.

At least twice yesterday, she spoke harshly to me and then apologized. One of those times we were in the car, and she said she didn’t know why she had responded that way. I don’t recall her exact words, but she had a concerned look on her face and said what I interpreted as a recognition that something is the matter with her that causes her to behave this way. That fits with so many other signs of her self-awareness.

I’m not quite sure what to make of this. It could be like other things that occur once or twice and not again, or it could be the beginning of a progression of her Alzheimer’s that only gets worse. My guess would be it’s something that will get worse though I think her dependence on me and the positive feelings derive from that relationship will last a long time. At least that’s what I’d like to believe.

Posted on

Change in the Air

Since the coronavirus came on the scene, change has become a regular part of everyone’s life. As my recent posts have suggested, Kate is no exception. I have a much harder time anticipating what a day will be like. That’s not because the good times have passed. They haven’t. They still represent a much larger percentage of our experiences than the trying, or even challenging, moments, but she definitely keeps me on my toes. Monday represents a good illustration.

The day began early, about 2:00 a.m. to be exact. It lasted off and on for the better part of two hours. I can’t recall the precise conversation. She was concerned about either a responsibility she thought she hadn’t fulfilled or what was on our agenda for the day. She asked me a few questions that I answered only to be followed a short time later with the same questions and my same answers.

Because she lost some sleep, I assumed she would get up a little later. That turned out to be a wrong assumption. About 7:30, I heard her say something just as I was going to take my morning walk. I went to the bedroom and found that she was confused but not seriously disturbed. She just wanted help understanding where she was and what she was supposed to do.

I asked if she was ready to get up. She said she didn’t know. I suggested that I take her to the bathroom. She agreed and on the way said, “Where’s my husband?” At the time, it was not a surprise, but her failure to recognize me was repeated throughout the day. It was the second time that has happened in the past week or so.

After she was dressed, I gave her a bowl of strawberries and blueberries and a glass of apple juice. For the first time, she showed little interest in either the fruit or her juice. She left half of the fruit and didn’t want any cheese toast when I offered it. She was quite talkative, however. Like other recent conversations, she didn’t realize that she was talking to me and kept saying she wished “my husband” were here to explain more of the things she talked about. We talked for an hour at the kitchen table before I assumed we would adjourn to the family room where she would rest. Wrong again.

Instead, she noticed a letter from Blue Cross on my desk. It was a communication about a medication I take for a dry eye condition. She picked it up and made an effort to read it. When we walked into the family room, she took it with her and then went into the living room. She took a seat and started reading it. I remained in the family room. I knew she wouldn’t be able to understand it but was fascinated to see how long she would try and made periodic visits to see if she was napping or reading. Each time she was trying to read with the same degree of seriousness she had shown a few days earlier when she tried to read The Velveteen Rabbit.

She came back to the family room in about twenty minutes and took a seat beside me. She started to read the letter when I noticed that she had it upside down. I asked if she wanted me to read it. She did. First, I explained what it was and that it included the company’s non-discrimination policy in nine languages besides English. I felt exactly the way I had the other day. I was glad to see her try to read but sad because she faced such an impossible task.

My Rotary club started its meetings again, and I re-established our arrangements to have a Monday sitter. She is someone who had been with us almost a year but not since September 2018, so I asked that she come an hour early to give Kate an opportunity to develop a comfort level with her before I left.

That went well, but when it was time for me to leave, Kate wasn’t comfortable about my going. She wanted to go with me. I told her the sitter be with her and that I would be back after my meeting. She wasn’t happy but accepted without a protest. I gave her a couple of her photo books to look over while I was gone.

When I returned, she was resting, but awake. I brought in groceries I had picked up on the way home from Rotary and then checked email. I heard her talking with the sitter and walked into the room. She was glad to see me. I told the sitter she could go. Then Kate and I spent time with one of her photo books.

During dinner, she said she was tired and wanted to go to bed early. She said the same thing after dinner. When we walked into our bedroom, she wanted to lie down. I suggested that she brush her teeth, put on her night clothes, and call it a day. She agreed, and I got her to bed. I watched the evening news and then put on some music for her while I took a shower.

After my shower, she began a long conversation. She was in bed when it began, but she soon took a seat on my side of the bed across from the chair in which I was sitting. I couldn’t fully understand what she was talking about, but I surmised that she thought I was a student with a part time job at whatever place she thought we were in, perhaps a hotel. I also gathered that she was trying to help me get a regular job. She asked if I knew her husband. I told her I did. She said he would be able to help by directing me to people who might be hiring. She said he was at work but would be coming home soon and repeated this a number of times. Realizing that he might not come home before I left, she asked if I had her husband’s phone number. I told her I did. Then she said, “If you run into a problem, call Richard.”

She was very eager to help me and kept repeating the whole scenario multiple times over an hour. For at least the last thirty minutes, I made an effort to close the conversation so that I could get to bed, but she continued. When she was nearly finished, she tested me to see if I remembered what she had told me to do. She said, “Now, what do you do if you run into a problem?” I told her I would call Richard. I don’t remember the other question, but I do remember the answer was to contact her. I was glad to have passed. She continued to talk and tested me one more time before the conversation ended for good.

We had what I thought was a rather amusing conclusion. I suggested we get to bed, and she asked where she was going to sleep. I pointed to her side of the bed. She was surprised. It turned out that she thought she would be going “home.” I told her she would be staying the night. She asked where I was going to sleep. I pointed to my side of the bed. She seemed a little hesitant but got in. I turned out the light and got in bed beside her. She was comfortable being with me, but she didn’t respond to me like I was her husband.

It is obvious that Kate is changing in a variety of ways. Her sleep pattern is unpredictable. She has more delusions. She has very talkative spells. As usual, the only way I can make sense out of it is to remind myself that her Alzheimer’s is a result of the plaque and tangles in her brain. They continue to grow and cause the circuits in her brain to malfunction. Regardless of the explanation, Kate is clearly changing, but I am glad to say that she is almost always kind and gentle. Just yesterday, she suddenly snapped at me because of something I said. She immediately apologized and said, “I really don’t like to be that way.” No wonder I want to give her the best care I can.

Posted on

Very Talkative at Latest Doctor’s Visit

Last week, Kate had a regular appointment with her primary care physician. She sees her doctor every four months though covid-19 delayed this one by ten weeks. The only thing that wasn’t routine was Kate’s behavior. She was unusually talkative.

As always, the doctor began by speaking directly to Kate. First, she asked a general question about how things were going. Kate said, “Fine.” Then she asked more specific questions, none of which Kate was able to answer. After the last question, the doctor asked if she could get my thoughts. I had sent her an update in advance of the visit, but I mentioned a few minor changes.

Something I said prompted Kate to jump in and say something complimentary about relationship. The medical intern who had accompanied the doctor asked how long we had been married. Kate turned to me, and I mentioned that our 57th anniversary was coming up on Sunday.

Then Kate took the lead. She began what was a lengthy (for a doctor’s appointment) description of my care for her and the closeness of our relationship. It must have surprised the doctor who had never her heard her talk so much.

It was noteworthy to me because it came after several other recent experiences at home when we have had long conversations in which she was the primary speaker. In those cases, everything was fabricated, arising out of an apparent delusion. This time it was because the subject matter is one with which she is very familiar and, thus, about which she is able to speak comfortably, if not accurately.

In a way, it both pleased and tickled me. I say pleased because it’s always nice to hear your spouse say good things about you. I also thought she beautifully conveyed the nature of our relationship to the doctor. It tickled me because she has always expressed her liking for things that are not “overdone.” I’m pretty sure that if she had been an outside observer, she would have said this went several steps too far.

At the time, I didn’t make too much of it, but since then she has been much more talkative. As I often do, I wonder why this is occurring and how much more may be in store. I reported that in the last post and plan to report more on that topic in a post about yesterday.

Posted on

A Day of Surprises

Yesterday was a very good day for Kate, but I wasn’t sure when she woke up. About 8:30, I heard her say, “Hello.” <pause> “Hello.” Her voice was rather calm. When I reached her, she looked wide awake. I was about to give her a very lighthearted greeting when I noticed that she looked very concerned. I shifted gears to mirror her feelings. She told me she was glad to see me. I asked what I could do to help her.

That initiated a conversation that was a good thirty minutes long. She wanted to know if “they got it.” I never learned nor did she ever hint at what that was, but I told her “they did.” In most situations like this, that would be enough. This time she wanted to know how I knew “they got it.” One fib leads to another, and I told her I was there when they took it. Then she wanted to know who took it. I gave her the name of a friend of her mother’s. She didn’t remember the friend, and I had to give a little explanation.

That ended her questions momentarily. She said she was very relieved. She had forgotten to get someone to take it. I assured her it was taken care of and that she could relax. That didn’t end her concern. Several times, she asked me if I was sure it had been taken and who had taken it. When she was fully convinced that everything was all right, I took her to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Although it was a very good day, much of the time she did not recognize me as her husband. The first sign of that came as we walked to the bathroom. She asked my name. I told her, and she expressed her appreciation to me for helping her. She went on to say that she liked me. Later, she asked my name again and then asked how she should address me. “Mr. Richard?”

It was still too early for lunch when she was dressed, so I prepared breakfast for her again. She was talkative, and we had a very pleasant time together. Afterward, I was prepared to sit down with her and look at a photo book or read something to her. I took her to the family room and then returned to the kitchen to get my coffee. She took that moment to pick up the Velveteen Rabbit. I assumed that I would read it to her; however, when I asked, she said she just wanted to look through it herself.

I had mixed emotions about her reaction. It was the first time she had ever declined my offer, and she never spends much time trying to read. I actually enjoy reading to her, but I also had other things to do. I decided it was good to let her read on her own and brought my laptop into the room to work on a slide show of photos I have created for our 57th wedding anniversary tomorrow.

I took a seat across from her and was prepared to stop at any moment to read to her. The big surprise was that she spent well over an hour with the book. Then she picked up a family photo book and began to read the text accompanying the photos. With both books, she meticulously moved her fingers from one word to the next. I felt two emotions, sadness that she had to work so hard and joy that she seemed to be deriving pleasure on her own. Several times I repeated my offer to help. She never accepted, but she did convey that she didn’t feel like she understood what she was reading.

She continued until Panera delivered our lunch. It arrived thirty minutes before the sitter was to come. I told her lunch was ready, but she wanted me to come to her. She was looking at the flowers and photos in the room as well as the back yard and the forest of trees on our neighbor’s property behind our house. This is not unusual, but she took far more time to look and express her feelings about the beauty she saw. As always, I took pleasure in seeing her so enthusiastic. I reminded her several times that I had her lunch on the table, but she didn’t get to the table until the sitter arrived.

We took another thirty minutes to eat our lunch when I took her to the family room. I felt like it would be too abrupt to rush away immediately. Sometimes I sit down with her to look at one of her photo books. She gets tired quickly and wants to rest. That is what I expected again. I handed her one of the books, and she immediately started going through it on her own. When I told her I needed to run a few errands and would return, she looked sad but didn’t protest or ask to go with me.

The next surprise came when I returned almost an hour later. She was seated in the same place looking at the same book. She looked content, so I didn’t even go into the family room. I made a couple of phone calls and worked on the computer.

At 4:00, I heard her ask Mary where I was and when I would be back. Mary told her I was home and working in the kitchen. In a couple of minutes, she walked into the kitchen. She was glad to see me and said that she was ready to go. I told her there were a few things I wanted to finish before then and to give me a few minutes. Less than five minutes later, she returned with a copy of The Giving Tree, Winnie the Pooh, and her iPad. She wanted to know if I was ready. I told her I was. It was almost 4:15, but I went to the family room and told Mary that she could go. Then Kate and I went to the car along with the things she had been carrying.

I had ordered dinner from a caterer earlier in the week and was scheduled to pick it up at 5:00. It’s about fifteen minutes from our house. That gave me more than enough time, so I drove around until going to her place for our dinner.

As soon as we entered the house, she responded as though it was the first time here. We walked into the kitchen where I started to get the food on the table. She commented that this was the first time she had been here and admired everything she saw.

The next surprise came after dinner. We were walking to the back of the house when she said, “I just want to thank you and your people for everything you have done.” She continued to express her appreciation for several minutes . What I surmised was that she thought she was in some type of lodging, and I was the proprietor with a staff to take care of the guests.

As I helped her get ready for bed, she came back to this topic. She thanked me again and talked a little longer. This was another surprise. She often talks about her working with a program of some type that helps people with education, job skills, and/or financial aid. This time she thought I was directing such a program in which I operated a place for guests to stay and employed people to help them financially and with job skills.

The last surprise came after I got in bed two hours after she did. She hadn’t been asleep at all. That surprised me because she had talked about going to be early when we were driving around before dinner, at dinner, and afterwards. Not only that, but she had gotten up somewhat early and not rested at all during the entire day. After I got in bed, she said, “What do we do now?” I told her it would be a good time to relax and go to sleep. She said, “Good.”

She is still sleeping at 10:15. That’s no surprise. I wonder what is in store today.

Posted on

From Low to High in Thirty Minutes

In my previous post, I mentioned that recently we’ve had a range of experiences from high to low. Sometimes the change comes quickly. That was true night before last. I was about to get in bed when I noticed that Kate was awake and looked frightened. I asked if I could help her. She asked my name and then hers. She told me she was scared, that she didn’t know anything. Typically, this happens in the morning. She is not normally this way at night. She was also more frightened than usual.

I took my usual approach to her when this happens. I tried to be as reassuring and comforting as possible. I told her I thought I could help her and that I knew a lot about her and her family. I mentioned that we have a number of family photo books that have a lot of information about her family. She said she would like to see them.

I brought her the “Big Sister” album that her brother made for her. I didn’t try to go through the book. Instead, I focused on selected photos and sections starting with the cover photo of her and her brother. She has always been taken by that picture. We went through a few early pictures soon after each of them was born. Then I skipped to a section that has several of our wedding pictures. It wasn’t long before she was relaxed and said, “I feel better now.”

The quickness of her change was striking. I don’t think she remembered her past any better than she had before we started, but the pictures and information gave her a sense of comfort. No longer was she adrift without any connection to world. Kate’s brother Ken, who also has Alzheimer’s, created the book to help her as her memory faded. He could not have known how valuable it has been. I am grateful to him for this gift that keeps on giving.

Posted on

Busy Days

I have felt rather busy the past three days. Most of that has involved Kate directly. Two of those days she was up early for breakfast. She rested periodically during the day, but she required more attention during those times she was up. We’ve had a full range of experiences including highs and lows.

One of the highs involves another long conversation during dinner two nights ago. Again, it was one in which I was only a listener/facilitator. It started when she asked “the name of this place.” I told her it was a house and that it had an address but not a name. Then she asked my name. The manner in which she asked told me that while she was comfortable with me, she didn’t recognize me as her husband.

She made a few comments about our home. Then I asked her to tell me about her mother. She took a moment to think. It was obvious that she couldn’t remember the information that would help her answer my question, but she did say that her mother liked to help people. That is something that she often says.

That initiated a long conversation about how people treat one another. It was a rambling conversation, much of which I didn’t understand. She frequently searched for words. What I felt was most significant about it was that she was enjoying heerself. That’s why I would consider this a Happy Moment.

The high point of that day occurred after she had been in bed for over two hours. I had just finished my shower. When I walked into the bedroom, I found her standing in front of the TV watching a YouTube video of a duet from La Boheme sung by Jonas Kaufman and Anna Netrebko. She was emotionally engaged. It’s a favorite of mine, and I stood there watching with her until the end of the duet. Although Kate and I have always enjoyed music together, her preferences have been for musical theater and less for classical, especially operatic performances. Since her diagnosis and our binging on music, her musical tastes have expanded tremendously. It has been especially pleasing to share the joy of music with her. Thus, this moment standing in front of the TV in the dark and in our night clothes was a special moment.

That wasn’t the end. The next video to play was the second movement of Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 2 played by a woman I didn’t know. That movement is another favorite of mine, one that I have included in my “soothing music playlist” I use with Kate. By this time, Kate wanted to sit down. We took a seat on the bench at the end of our bed to watch the performance. The audio alone is enchanting, but the addition of the video of the pianist and the conductor and orchestra added immensely to the intensity of feeling. When the piece ended, I turned off the TV, and we went to bed. It was a beautiful way to end the day.

We have also had some trying moments. I’m thinking specifically of getting ready for bed. Before Kate gave up her iPad, she used to work jigsaw puzzles from the time we got home from dinner until getting ready for bed. At some point, she would get tired or I would tell her it was getting to be bedtime. Then I would help her get ready. Occasionally, she was still wrapped up in her iPad and didn’t want to stop.

The loss of that activity has left a void in her schedule. She has gravitated to getting in bed shortly after dinner and, since Covid-19, after our nightly drive around town. That means she gets in bed as early as 7:15. She is rarely asleep before I get in bed between 9:30 and 10:00.

That has gone rather smoothly until the past week or two. She is still eager to get in bed, but she doesn’t want to take off the clothes she has worn all day. Most days there is no problem. When there is, I have to carefully coax her, and I am not always successful. In those cases, she can be adamant about not cooperating. We’ve had trouble the past two nights. I hope this is not going to become a serious problem.

There is one other bedtime issue. Within the past couple of weeks, she has been insistent on my running my fingers between her toes, pulling strands of her hair, and also running my hands across her body. She seems to be concerned that there are “things” between her toes or on her body that she wants removed before going to bed. The problem for me is that it often comes at a time when I am beginning to wind down. I have been complying although she doesn’t think I always take it as seriously as she thinks I should. She will demonstrate how to do it and then ask me to try again.

I know these are minor issues, and I hope they stay that way.

Posted on

A Lengthy Conversation About a Delusion

Kate is not generally a big talker, but, periodically, she surprises me. I don’t always know what prompts her talkativeness, but I do know that it often involves a delusion of some type. She had one of those yesterday. As so often happens, she had been resting on the sofa in the family room. I was seated across from her. She rested over an hour before she opened her eyes. When she saw me, she said, “You can help me.” I asked what I could do, and she said, “Come over here.” When I did, she told me to “go over there.” I walked across the room and turned around. Then she said, “Come back over here.” I walked very obediently to her again. This time she told me to take a seat and pointed to the table in front of the sofa. I sat down and asked how I could help her. That opened the door to a conversation that lasted over an hour.

At first, it was very hard to make sense of what she was saying. She acted as though there were other people in the house with us. It turned out that she was talking about a group of longtime friends. At an earlier point in life, they were very close. Over the years, however, they had developed different interests. As a result, the occasions they were together were not as much fun as they used to be. As near as I could tell, some bitterness had developed among them. She never said there was one particular person who was the problem. She did say that they had all tried to reclaim the closeness of their previous relationship, but nothing had worked.

During the course of the conversation, she drifted away from asking my help to a broader emphasis about the nature of people and their sensitivity to the actions of others. In the end, she felt there was probably nothing that could be done to help her and her longtime friends because many of the circumstances in which they found themselves were so different now. She wasn’t, however, ready to give up.

I was primarily a facilitator in the conversation. I said very little except to nod my head or agree or make a comment that indicated I was listening. Late in the conversation, I again asked how I could help. She indicated I already had by listening to her.

Conversations like this intrigue me because so much of what she says makes sense with respect to human nature and the problems we encounter. At the same time, she is obviously experiencing a delusion that represents a break with reality. It’s just one more thing for which I don’t have a good explanation. I can only say that some of the circuits in the brain are functioning while others are not. There is also a good bit of inconsistency. Sometimes a circuit works. At other times, it doesn’t. That happens for all of us, but it is more dramatic for someone with dementia.