Strange Behaviors

Tonight Kate came into our bedroom carrying a night gown, a heavy knit sweater, and a tee shirt we had bought on a trip to Africa. It reminds me of similar things she has done in the past. For example, as we left for Barnes & Noble this afternoon, she picked up two framed photographs to take with her, one of her father, the other of our son. A few days ago, she took a pair of underwear and socks with her when we went to dinner. She left them in the car, but several months ago she took an extra pair of socks with her into a restaurant and just put them on the table.

As I was entering this post, she asked me for help. She wanted something to wear for tomorrow. I think she must have intended the tee shirt and sweater to be for tomorrow. I asked if she would like me to get her something. She said she would. I took the tee shirt and sweater back to her closet and brought her something else that I thought would be more appropriate for tomorrow. She was happy to have help. Sometimes she goes for what is easy even if it means sacrificing a measure of independence.

Getting Lost is Easy

This Morning: 10:45

We arrived at Panera a few minutes ago. Following our normal routine, I set up Kate’s iPad to her puzzle app and headed to the counter to order her muffin and our drinks. We sit at one of two tables that are about 8-10 feet from where the drink dispenser is located. While I order, Kate fills her cup from the drink dispenser. Even though it is easy for her to see our table, I always tell her and point to the table as I go to order. This works well. She is always sitting at the table working a puzzle when I return though not today.

As I was ordering, Kate casually walked over to me. I introduced her to the new person who was taking my order, I told Kate that her name was Jesse. I expected her to say that our daughter’s name is Jesse when she said, “I have a friend named Jesse.” I am not aware of this friend. I feel sure she was just getting mixed up with our daughter’s name.

When I had paid, we both walked back to our table and took our seats. I didn’t say anything to her , but I know that she didn’t know where our table was located. The easy thing was to find me. She knew that I would be headed there soon. There have been a few other occasions when she hasn’t remembered where our table was located. The big difference is those times was that our regular tables were occupied, so we had to sit in another section of the restaurant. When that happens, I stay in eyesight as she fills her cup. When she is finished, I make sure she gets to the table before I go to order. Today we are sitting at one of the two tables at which we have been sitting for several years, and they are right next to the drink dispenser. To top it off, her iPad has a bright red cover on it that I bought to make it easy to spot. Forgetting where we sit at Panera is yet another step in her journey.

This Afternoon: 3:45

After lunch, we came back to the house. I met a landscaper to talk about a few things I would like to have done in the yard. Kate worked on her iPad for a short time and then took a nap. When she got up, she was ready to go to Barnes & Noble, so here we are. Interestingly, we had a similar event here. I selected a table for us. We switch around a little more here since there are fewer options than at Panera. As I did this morning, I set up her iPad and put it on the table for her. Then I picked up her cup, left the top with her, and went to the counter to get her a drink. As I was ordering, she came to me with the top. I told her that was all right, that I would just put it on when I got the drink. She left to return to the table. I wondered if she would find it. I soon found out. When I finished, I turned around and saw her sitting at another table. I stopped by and said, “Let’s go over to this other table. Our things are over there.” She got up, and we walked back to our original table. Neither this morning’s experience nor this one seemed to be troubling for her. That’s another reason for me to feel grateful.

Another Musical Highlight

As Kate continues to decline, it makes me happy when I see her enjoy life. Nothing else has the impact of musical performances. What makes it even more special is that we share this pleasure together. This week we have had four evenings of musical entertainment at home. I purchased two DVDs that arrived on Monday. One was Fiddler on the Roof. The other was Les Miserables. We watched Fiddler on Monday and Tuesday night. We watched Les Mis on Wednesday and Friday night. I can’t remember a time when she has been so demonstrative in her expressions of pleasure. There were moments in each musical that made her a bit teary.

I should add that it’s not just the music itself that moves us. We both enjoy the visual aspects of productions, the staging, the lighting, and, especially, watching outstanding actors giving their all. The video of Les Mis is not the theater production. It was the 25th anniversary concert at the Barbican Centre in London. They pulled out all the stops for this one. They brought back former actors for each of the major roles who joined in rousing performances of some of the signature music. This is our favorite musical, and this production was spectacular. I would have loved it had I been alone, but to share this moment with Kate at this point in in her Alzheimer’s was something to treasure.

A Special Anniversary Lunch In Asheville

Kate and I have celebrated our anniversary in Asheville many times. It comes around Memorial Day, and there are always interesting things happening while we are here. When we were here last year, I wasn’t sure that Kate would be back this year. As with so many things, she has surprised me, so I made plans just a couple of weeks ago. I’m glad we made it one more time.

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know that Kate and I have a daily routine when we are at home in Knoxville. Apart from our morning visit to Panera for Kate’s blueberry muffin, we know the restaurants where will be eating for lunch and dinner each day of the week. That routine has created an interesting and very supportive network of people. We find that we are drawn to the various restaurants more for the social reasons than for the food itself.

That leads me to tell you about a special relationship we have developed with a server here in Asheville. We met her at lunch several years ago, when she was working at one of our favorite places. On a later trip, we went to lunch at a different restaurant. It turned out she had moved to that restaurant, and she remembered us. Since that time, we have made it a point to eat There each time we visit the city and, of course, ask for Melissa.

The last time we were here was in December. I mentioned that we might see her again at the end of May, but I was doubtful. She asked for our home address and sent us a Christmas card with a very nice note attached. I was touched by that and intended to write her a note telling how much her note had meant, but I lost the address. I decided I should call the restaurant to get it but never got around to it. Then as our anniversary date got closer, I thought about making the trip back to Asheville to see her as well as Jenny who works at the front desk at the Haywood Park Hotel where we always stay.

Two weeks ago, I called the restaurant and learned that Melissa had changed to another restaurant in town. It’s another place we have eaten a number of times over the years. I called and left a message for Melissa to text me. She did, and we arranged for this year’s visit.

Our lunch turned out to be the highlight of the day, not because of the food (which was excellent) but because of Melissa. I should add that we have established relationships with servers in a number of restaurants in Knoxville. That is not surprising given that we see them so frequently, most of them once a week. This bonding with Melissa is unique in that we are here only two or three times a year at the most, and I don’t know that we will ever be back. What I do know is that it is possible for people to connect in a special way even in something as fleeting as a “server/guest” relationship. Melissa and other servers who have been so kind to us may never know how much they add to our lives.

Postscript: We discovered that she and her husband’s anniversary was also yesterday. It’s just two years for her, but I hope our 55 years together will be an inspiration for her.

Our Fifty-fifth Anniversary

Kate and I married 55 years ago today. Like every young couple, we began with somewhat vague hopes and dreams. All we really knew was that we were in love. We could never have imagined all that lay ahead. The good news is our dreams have come true. I don’t mean in any specific way. What I mean is that our love is deeper now than every before and that are lives have not only been enriched by our experiences but by sharing them together.

Life is much different now. Kate hasn’t been able to remember birthdays or anniversaries for several years. I have talked about this anniversary several weeks. She has never been able to remember it. That sounds sad, and it is; however, neither of us is feeling sad this morning. Kate is living in the moment. As usual, she is happy with this moment. We’re on our way to Asheville where we have celebrated quite a few anniversaries. We’ll stay at the same hotel where we have stayed for the past 15 years or so. We’ll eat at the same restaurants. We’ll enjoy our time together. Kate won’t remember it, but I will. She has little or no memory, but she is still able to enjoy living through her senses. I am thankful for that. Most of all, however, even though she is forgetting my name, she still expresses her love for me as I do for her. Who would have thought that this far into Alzheimer’s life could be so rewarding. We are fortunate people.

How long can she remember? Not long.

Somewhere I read that a person in the later stages of dementia can only remember something for 3 seconds. Based on my experience with Kate, that sounds about right. For example, at Panera this morning, she asked me to tell her my “real” name. I asked if she meant my first name. That was the one she wanted. After I told her, she wanted the middle and last names. I gave them to her and then repeated the first, middle, and last names. Then she said the three names. She started to repeat them again but could only get my first name. She tried again. She could get it, but it was difficult to get it right after saying it once. I’m just glad that she doesn’t appear to be overly concerned about it. I emphasize “overly” because she obviously is concerned or she wouldn’t keep asking my name, our childrens’ names, or the name of the city in which we live. She sometimes apologizes for asking again. I always tell her, “That’s why I’m here. You can ask me as many times as you want.”

Good Times with Bitter Sweet Moments

Once again, I am happy to report that the balance of our day yesterday was as good as the start. After returning from lunch, Kate rested for a little over an hour. Then we went to a movie. This was a bit unusual in that it was a movie we had seen just last week, RBG. Kate hadn’t remembered it, but she had enjoyed it. Since we didn’t have any special Memorial Day plans, I decided to take her again. We liked it just as much the second time, and I appreciated the artistry with which the story was told even more than before.

As we were getting out of the car before the movie, she again asked my name, and I told her. She is so very natural when she asks me. She shows no sign of being bothered by having to ask nor does she seem to be concerned about hurting me. Other than the question itself, she doesn’t sound like we imagine a person with Alzheimer’s would sound just childlike.

While we were at lunch, I received two DVDs from Amazon. One was Fiddler on the Roof. The other was Les Miserables.  Last night we watched a portion of Fiddler. Although she was working puzzles on her iPad throughout the movie, she was following it and enjoying the music. I did as well. This is rather unusual since she hasn’t expressed much interest in TV programs or movies in a long time. It was a nice way to end the day.

Kate was already in bed as I pulled back the covers on my side to get in bed when she said, “Do I have a name?” I told her she did and went over to her side of the bed, sat down and told her. I said that she had a special name because it was a family name. That prompted her to say how much she loved all her aunts and uncles. She was in one of her talkative moods again. She started to talk about our relationship. She has a set of things she recites. She is glad we met and how fortunate that we have been. Last night she also talked about how comfortable she is when she is with me and how easy it is for her to say things to me.

I continue to interpret her behavior in light of what I have read in The Dementia Handbook. The loss of her memory is dramatically expressed in her failure to recall names and facts, but her senses are alive. Every few minutes as we watched Fiddler, she would say something about what a good movie it is and how much she liked the music. More importantly to me, she still has special feelings about our relationship and me. And, as she has said, “I can’t even remember your name.”

Memorial Day 2018

We’re off to a good start today. I woke up at 5:15 and thought about getting up since that isn’t too far off from 5:30 which I consider a good time for me. I checked the weather and discovered that it was raining, so I got back into bed. I woke again around 6:00. This time I just decided to stay there. The next thing I knew it was 7:00, so I finally got up.

Kate got to sleep easily last night after having slept late yesterday morning and taking a long nap in the afternoon. She was up at a typical time for her around 9:30. We are now at Panera where the crowd is slim this morning. I think a lot of people are out of town or were in earlier Kate is in a good mood, and we’re ready for a nice day.

As we started to get out of the car, she said, “What is your real name?” I said, “You mean my last name?” She said, “The one your parents gave you.” I told her, and she said, “I’ll bet that was your father’s name too.” It was.

I find myself analyzing Kate’s behavior in light of the book I finished reading yesterday, The Dementia Handbook. In this case, I could look on this incident with sadness. It is truly sad that she is forgetting my name. On the other hand, I have somehow been able to take pleasure in the things that she can do. I believe this one of the things that Cornish was trying to communicate in her book. There are many losses of “rational thought” for people with dementia, so we as caregivers need to focus on the many aspects of intuitive thought that our loved one’s still possess.

Interestingly (to me anyway), in the middle of the paragraph above Kate looked at me. I must have had a very serious, intent look on my face. She started to mimic my expression, and I laughed. She chuckled as well. Then I said, “You know, I think we were meant for each other.” She said, “If I could only remember your name.” Then I said, “Could I be serious a minute.” She nodded. I said, “Do you really remember my name right now.” She said, “If you tell me.” I did, and she said, “That’s what I thought.” It’s clear that she really is forgetting my name. It’s equally clear that she remembers me. I am glad that she can be so open about forgetting and that she can add a touch of humor to it. As I’ve said many times, my mood is heavily influenced by how she is getting along. When she’s happy, I’m happy. I’m looking forward to the day.

That takes me back Cornish’s thoughts about the retention of intuitive thought by people with dementia. Kate’s ability to correctly interpret and tease me about my serious facial expression indicates that her intuitive ability to read and respond to emotions is alive and well.

Odds and Ends at the End of the Day

It’s been another good day for us. We didn’t do anything special. In fact, given that Kate slept until almost 11:00 and took a nap from 2:00 to 4:00 this afternoon, we’ve spent less time together than usual. We went to Barnes & Noble when she got up and from there went to dinner and back home for the evening.

At dinner, Kate looked across the table at me and said, “Tell me your name.” I said, “Would you like my full name or my first name?” She said, “The name your parents gave you.” I told her “Richard.” Then she asked my middle name. When I gave her that, she filled in the last name. She then asked me to repeat it twice more.

Leaving the restaurant we had to step down from the curb to our car. I gave her my hand which she accepted. She said, “Thank you for not thinking I am crazy.” I’m not sure what motivated it, but it appeared that she thought it silly that she was taking my hand for what seemed a simple task.

When we got home, we went to the family room where she worked on her iPad. She always likes to have the ceiling fan on but hadn’t turned it on. I was in the other room when she called to me. I went to the family room where she pointed to the ceiling fan. This was one of those times she was asking me something with her hand signals. I chuckled and turned it on. She laughed and said, “You must think I’m silly.”

As she was getting ready for bed, she called to me with a whisper from across the room. When I went to see walked over to see what she wanted, she whispered even more softly, “Are we spending the night and tomorrow night here?” Moments later as she was undressing, she asked the same question again.

She turned out the light and got into bed before 9:30. I was surprised because of all the sleep she got last night and this afternoon. I wonder if this will affect what time she gets up tomorrow.

A Peaceful Sunday

It was a very peaceful morning in our home. Kate slept until almost 11:00. I also slept a little later, 6:25, after initially waking at 5:15. I had breakfast and got in a walk of almost three miles. I checked email and did some reading in a book I discovered recently, The Dementia Handbook: How to Provide Dementia Care at Home by Judy Cornish. Her approach to caregiving for people with dementia has captured my attention. (I’ll say more about that below.) As always, I’ve had music going constantly. This morning it was a collection of classical sacred music. This is the closest I come to meditating.

The Dementia Handbook led me to think about how Kate and I have approached her Alzheimer’s. At the time of her diagnosis, we were determined to make the most of our time together although we didn’t know how much time that would be. The doctor gave us the impression that it might be as long as twelve years but, possibly, less. I am sure neither of us imagined that she would be getting along as well as she is almost 7 ½ years later. It is really remarkable how well she does, especially since her memory is so very poor.

I read a lot of different things about dementia. One of those is that people with dementia retain abilities related to emotions far longer than they remember names and facts. I was shocked when I first discovered that my mother did not know me. For a long time, she had greeted me as she had all her life. I assumed, incorrectly, that she knew I was her son. In a sense, she did know me. That is, she recognized me, but she no longer knew my name or that I was her son. I have noted in several of my posts that Kate is beginning to forget the names of our children, but she still knows them when she sees them. At this point, it is only the names that are slipping. The same is true for me. Sometimes she forgets my name, but she still knows I am her husband.

What I am learning from The Dementia Handbook makes a lot of sense in terms of my own observation of Kate. In most ways, she usually appears perfectly normal to anyone we meet in short-term interactions like those that occur at Panera, Barnes & Noble, or any of the restaurants we frequent.

She retains the ability to greet people, to express interest in them, or to offer encouragement. For example, at lunch today our server was telling us about her week. Her car died.  She has no transportation. She is a single mother who works full-time as a server while going to school. I told her I couldn’t imagine how she was able to deal with all that. She said she sometimes just goes into the bathroom, breaks down, and cries. Kate immediately spoke words of encouragement and suggested that it was good to “get it all out,” and she did so with a tone of voice that communicated her sincerity.

On numerous occasions, she has approached house cleaning staff in hotels or similar personnel in restaurants and expressed appreciation for keeping the place so clean. A year ago this past Christmas, her cousin, Sharon, took us to lunch at her country club. As we left, Kate thanked a member of the clean up crew. Sharon was amazed at Kate’s sensitivity. I am also mindful of the fact that at the time of her diagnosis, we were told that she would retain her greatest strengths the longest. Her social skills and a caring heart are among those.

I will never know all the things that have made Kate’s experience with Alzheimer’s so much better than that of many others. I do believe, however, Cornish has it right when she suggests that the best way to care for a person with dementia is to recognize that she is unable to do many of the things that depend on memory but that other abilities remain in tact for quite a while. The best treatment is to minimize the situations demanding memory and maximize those that capitalize on the person’s experiential skills. I believe that is what we have done. Rather than remaining at home most of the time which is the easy thing to do, we are out and about a good portion of the day including the dinner hour. I started eating out for all our meals as a way that Kate and I could focus on each other more than we might have done if I prepared meals at home and then cleaned up the dishes afterward. I didn’t realize how critical this would be to both of us from a social standpoint. I plan to keep it up as long as it is feasible.