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Miscellaneous

Yesterday was not a good day for Dad. Kate and I had gone out to together to see him with plans to go to dinner afterwards. When we got there, he was under the sheet and spread as usual. When I tried to wake him, I noticed that he was much more difficult to awaken than normal. I tried more than 5 times to get him from a seated position and into his wheel chair without success. Finally, he was able to turn around and sit in the chair. He did greet Kate but not in the normal way that he would have. He was very groggy. I also noticed that he was perspiring. This was not a special surprise in that he was under the covers and wearing a sweatshirt and the AC was not on. Yesterday was in the mid-80s.

We went to the dining room where he mostly sat in front of his food. He did eat his tomato soup and sampled his carrots and chicken and dumplings. He was never very alert during the whole time we were with him.

Kate and I went from there to Hathaway’s.  We have often done so on a Wednesday. We sat in a booth in the bar and enjoyed our usual dinner of grilled salmon with asparagus. As we often do, we also shared a key lime pie for dessert.

Kate had been to see Dr. Reasoner before we went to see Dad. She got a prescription for another medication (Namenda) the doctor had mentioned in earlier visits. She also got a prescription for something to help with hot flashes. When signing in at the doctor’s office, Kate forgot Dr. Reasoner’s name and came over to me to ask what it was.

I believe she was down a little after the visit. We spoke briefly about the visit at dinner, but she said she didn’t want to talk about it any further. After finishing dinner, she said, “”Could we just go home and cuddle?” Naturally, I said yes. I put on some music and got into bed and held her. I have mentioned in other posts that we have embraced more strongly and meaningfully since her diagnosis more than a year ago. Such was the case last night. When I first saw her this morning, I mentioned our having a nice evening, and she couldn’t remember. This is yet another example of how Alzheimer’s affects both parties. She felt she had had an experience but was robbed of it because she couldn’t remember. I was also disappointed because part of remembering is remembering together. I know that we will have more of these experiences as time passes.

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Everyday Life

Earlier this week, Kate expressed her frustration over my getting home as late as I do after my daily visit with my dad. I told her I would go out a little earlier and be home earlier.

I started this new schedule yesterday. This involves a clear choice to put her over Dad in that I like to make sure Dad’s teeth are brushed and he gets his sheet and bed spread covered over him.

Today, Kate had a routine appointment with Dr. Reasoner. She couldn’t remember the doctor’s name when asked to put it in a form. She has known her doctor for years and has been seeing her every four to six months since her diagnosis. I was a little surprised that she couldn’t recall her name.

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Problems with Dad

Yesterday Dad didn’t want to wake up when I visited him. I had arrived somewhat earlier than usual because I needed to get back home for Kate and me to get something to eat before attending a concert by a local choral group.

I took him several bananas thinking he might like/need the nourishment because he sometimes doesn’t eat much of what eats gets in the dining room. He didn’t hesitate to want to move from his reclined position to sitting up. We got into the wheel chair with minimal difficulty. He did seem somewhat more lethargic. We got to the library where I read him his mail. He made virtually no comment throughout. I finally decided to call my brother, Glen, thinking that this would arouse him. However, he continued to sleep in his wheel chair. I had a 7-8 minute conversation with Glen, and Dad never said anything.

Finally, I took him to the dining room. By this time he accepted a banana, and he indicated he would like a cup of coffee. I left him at the dining table before he finished. He had eaten his dessert and a few other things. He still was relatively uncommunicative. This is the first time I have observed this since the first week after he returned from his last visit to the hospital a few weeks ago. I have also observed more confusion since his return. In addition, he has had cold hands a number of times and the edema in his left arm and hands has continued without improvement. I have mentioned this to the doctor, but he has been unable to identify a specific cause. Somewhere along the way, I have heard that congestive heart failure can be correlated with swelling. I am beginning to think this may be the case.

Dad has also had more trouble with his telephone than in the past. I bought him a new one last week. Two nights ago, he called me 10 times and Glen 4 times. Most of those times he didn’t say a word.

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Frustration

I have commented a number of times about the fact that the person who has AD recognizes that she has it and finds it frustrating. For example, last night when I arrived home after visiting my Dad at Mountain Valley, Kate said, “Finally, you’re home. One day I’ll be dead, and you’ll still be visiting with your dad.” After that she apologized, and said, I’m just so frustrated.” I asked, “You mean by the general situation (trying to be subtle instead of “your AD.). She said, “Yes,” and then, “Let’s not talk about it.” We then went to the kitchen where we put some things together for dinner. I had cooked chicken thighs over the weekend. I made a chicken soup, and she sliced tomatoes and cooked green beans. Then we had a delightful evening eating outside with a glad of wine.

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Good Times

I have been reflecting lately on the nature of my comments and decided I ought to be more thoughtful about frequency, topics, and relevance to my musings. We’ll see where that takes us. The first sign of this is the title for today’s entry. Here’s the story,  and it’s short.

Right now we are at the peak of the spring flowers, and the weather lately has been grand. One of the things that Kate and I have enjoyed over the years is sitting outside on the patio with a glass of wine and just conversing. Last evening was one of those times. I had come back from my daily visit with Dad at Mountain Valley and began to prepare some chicken soup with some chicken thighs that I had cooked over the weekend. Kate was planting some new flowers on the neighbor’s side of our front yard. She came in just about the time I was ready to serve; so we took our soup and wine outside and enjoyed the view, the weather, the conversation, and just being together. These are moments we treasure, and, fortunately, we have many such moments even in the midst of some of the trials that we have faced. We enjoyed these long before we knew about Kate’s AD.

My spirits have been higher in the past few days which relates to the successful closing on the building, the exploration of new properties to buy with the proceeds, the good feeling that the staff has about our move upstairs, and the fact that we have had a number of new business possibilities. All these things remind us of how much we have to be thankful for.

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Pain, Pain, Pain

This past Friday, Kate and I drove to Nashville where we had dinner with and old friend from Wisconsin and three of her friends. On Saturday, we got together with our daughter, Jesse, and her boys who were there for half-marathon on Sunday.

Overall it was a good weekend, but it was also a trying one for Kate After Friday night’s dinner, she commented on how people seem to ignore her and give their attention to me. She also expressed her fear that increasingly she feels uncomfortable in conversation. She has a special fear of asking things she has just asked which I have observed a few times. She says she sees herself becoming quiet the way she has seen other AD victims do.

She hasn’t wanted to talk about it, but I have noticed that she was low as we returned on Monday. She has my cold now, but I don’t believe that is the explanation. We were together for lunch, and I took her to a new ice cream shop downtown to give her a little boost. She seemed to enjoy it, but it didn’t really change things.

I should have entitled this entry (started this morning) as Pain, Pain, Pain. It is the confluence of several things at one time that makes it stressful. I am reminded of the Psalms. Many of them are written when the authors were on the mountain top. These sing praises to God and give thanks for all the blessings of life. Many others, however, are written from The Pit of despair. These focus on the challenges of life and often question where God is and appeals to God for help out of disaster. Though my own moods are usually upbeat, I have recognized in the past few years that external events can make it hard to feel optimistic. Right now is one of those times.

Over the past 3 years my business has been terrible. I have lost a lot of the money that I had made over many years. We are now down to 3 staff members. I recently sold the building to a law firm that will occupy the downstairs. We are going to lease the upstairs from them. Last week we made the move and like the new arrangement. However, in the midst of feeling good about selling the building and sensing that the new quarters suit us better, the business itself continues to decline. We just aren’t getting calls anymore. We committed to a one year lease thinking we would be safe because we have booked enough business to almost cover us for a year. It is so slow now that I am beginning to wonder if we were dreaming.

Now let’s add the events of the weekend and the following days at home. For me personally the weekend was great because we were with people we liked and enjoyed pleasant, stimulating conversation. In addition, we had the joy of being with Jesseand her boys. On the other hand, it was not as good for Kate as I pointed out above. She continues to recognize her deteriorating condition. I will SCREAM once again that for a good while AD patients know they are losing it. It is horribly depressing. I think it is especially depressing for people who value intellectual ability as Kate does. It is more than intellectual ability. It is also the ability to operate confidently in the world –, to be able to handle everyday things.

Last night we went to a movie called The Matchmaker at our local arts theater. After we left the movie, Kate said, “I didn’t understand it at all – even after you explained it.” I recognized that she wasn’t just saying that it was a confusing movie but that she was saying her condition prevented her understanding what was going on. When she says things like this, I can see the pain in her face. Then I don’t know what to say. I told her I wished I could help her and that I love her. I started to say more, and she stopped the conversation. This is a typical pattern. Things occur that lead her to say something acknowledging AD and her frustration. Then just as quickly she wants to move on as if continued conversation will only make it worse. I know the pain is greater for her, but it hurts me tremendously.

One thing that struck me and has on other occasions is similarity in my experiences with my dad. Yesterday afternoon I took my old iPhone to the ATT store and had them set it up for dad. When I tried to show him how to turn it on and make calls, he simply couldn’t do it. It was frustrating for him and for me. I had underestimated the difficulty for him. I had even set up a set of favorites to make it easy for him to dial. All he had to do after turning on the phone was to press the name of the person he wanted to call. It was next to impossible for him to do. So this experience was followed by Kate’s not being able to understand the movie that was not that complicated.

Seeing her deterioration over the past year, I can’t help wondering where we will be this time next year. We are planning to make a trip to the Galapagos in January. Will she be up to this? It was a bit of a chore getting her ready for the daily activities on the trip to Africa. Will it be impossible next year?

Yesterday morning, I saw Herman and Betty Snyder at Starbucks. Betty said she was going to call Kate and asked me if she would like to join a Care Team at church. I explored the responsibilities and told her that I thought she probably would not want to do it. When I spoke with Kate last night, she said that she might like to do it. This makes me wonder how realistic she is about things that she can undertake.

Our conversations involve references to future travel. I get the impression that she believes this is something that she will be able to do for a longer period of time than I think she will. Right now, for example, I am thinking the trip to New Zealand may need to be a cruise because it will be easier logistically.

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Multiple Signs of Decline

Kate continues to exhibit a variety of her symptoms. Without my giving an exhaustive account of each one, let me just list a few of them briefly.

1. The other night we had a good conversation in which we reflected on our marriage and some of the things we remember so fondly. The next morning when I said something about the conversation, she didn’t remember it at all.

2. After returning from her hairdressers the other day, Kate said that our daughter may know of her Alzheimer’s.  She has suspected this before, but feels more confident now.

3. This past weekend we went to Nashville to visit friends. She was quite stressed in getting ready for our trip. I told her the time we would leave . We left an hour and a half after that time.

The four of us went out to dinner with another couple whom we had not met before. We had a pretty active conversation throughout the evening, and it was hard for Kate to play an active role. She later told me that she felt very isolated. She mentioned that she could imagine her becoming quieter in social situations like this.

She also told me that she was hesitant in the conversation because she was afraid she was going to ask about something the other person had already told her.

I can’t recall another specific example, but she seems to have a harder time putting things together when we are with other people. She often doesn’t understand what people are talking about. The other day after seeing a movie she confessed that she couldn’t follow it.

My recognition that she knows exactly what is happening and is stressed by it dominates a lot of my thinking. I think this is because so many people believe that  person with dementia doesn’t understand that she has the disease.

Apart from the experiences with Kate, I had a frustrating day with Dad as I tried to teach him to use my old iPhone. He just couldn’t get it. Then tonight Kate couldn’t understand the movie. This is not the first time I have seen parallels in their situations.

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Experiencing the Consequences of Fregetfulness

I continue to feel that Kate has been feeling the pain of losing her memory. A week ago today she had a PEO meeting. I am trying to drive Kate to places that might be confusing for her. That morning I got the address and wrote out directions from our house to the home of the woman hosting the meeting. I had a meeting that morning while she would be en route; so I told her I would stay in touch with my phone for any messages. When I didn’t hear from her, I thought everything was all right.

When we spoke on the phone later that afternoon, I asked if the directions had worked. She indicated that she didn’t want to talk about it. That evening she told me that the meeting had been changed to another member’s house. She had received an email the week before letting her know of the change but had forgotten. When I asked about her getting there, she told me that she hadn’t made it. I asked what happened, and she said she didn’t want to talk about it. I honored that request; so I still know only that she didn’t make it to the meeting and assumed that she was unable to find it. It is also quite possible that she got to the original place and then couldn’t reach anyone to tell her where the meeting was.

There are other examples of her forgetfulness, but I can’t remember them at the moment. Suffice it to say that she continues to be frustrated by her inability to remember things.

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“You Told Me That”

Just a brief comment today on something I have mentioned before; however, it seems so common now that I chuckle when it occurs. Frequently when I tell her something she says, “You told me that.” Of course, it is quite possible that sometimes she is correct. It happens so often and in instances when I know that it would be impossible for me to have told her because I just learned about it. It makes me wonder if she says this because she forgets so frequently the odds are that whatever I say is something she has forgotten. Another possibility is that it is something akin to a deja vu experience.

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Everyday Problems Associated with Alzheimer’s

The past week has been a full one. We celebrated Valentine’s Day by attending a concert by the Knoxville Symphony on Saturday night, the Symphony League’s Valentine’s Ball on Sunday night, lunch at Casa Bella on Valentine’s Day, and the UT Symphony that night. These were good times for both of us and serve to remind us how much we can continue to enjoy despite Kate’s Alzheimer’s looming over us. We continue to put a special emphasis on our relationship which seems more precious to us with every passing day.

On the downside, on Tuesday morning Kate took a walk around the neighborhood with one of our neighbors, Lucy Grayson. During that walk Lucy commented on another neighbor and her husband, Barry and Mary Jane Winters. Mary Jane also has Alzheimer’s which we have been aware for 2-3 years. Lucy indicated that she felt sorry for Mary Jane and then said, “I feel especially sorry for Barry.”

These are the kind of things that occur routinely, but they have a special meaning when you also are plagued with the disease. It makes me think once again that people need to be more careful about what they say.

Kate and I had lunch together and then she left in her car to run a couple of errands before returning home. I received a phone call from her a little later. She left a voice mail as I was in a meeting or phone call at the time. The message was a bit garbled but I could tell she had had an accident of some type. I sent her a text and asked if she were all right. She answered quickly that she was; so I called to find out what had happened. She told me she was pulling into a parking space and misjudged the distance to the car on her right and had knocked out her front headlight. When I got home that night I discovered that it had not only broken the right signal light but had also damaged the front fender, the right front passenger door, the right back door which will not open, and the right rear fender.

We sat down and had a glass of wine and discussed the events of the day. That is when she told me about Lucy’s comments that morning as well as how she was feeling about the accident. We didn’t say much. It was obvious to me that she was shaken by the experience. It is just one further sign of her inability to do anything right. I try to reassure her when these things happen, but we both know her situation is getting worse and affecting lots of things besides memory.

Last night at Kate’s suggestion we built a fire, had a glass of wine, and brought in Chinese for dinner. It was a good time for conversation. We find a lot of our conversation relate to things we are thankful for. I think this is our unconscious way of counterbalancing the trauma of the Alzheimer’s. It was a very nice evening. One of the things she said when we talked was that she had lied about something and wanted to explain. She went on to say that she had indicated on Tuesday night that she had not been bothered by Lucy’s comments, but the truth was that she had been bothered by the comment that Lucy felt even sorrier for Barry than for Mary Jane. She didn’t say this, but she doesn’t want to be a burden on me.

On a slightly different note, many decisions are influenced by Kate’s condition. For example, I have been planning to buy a new car next year and thought that I might even delay a little longer. My idea was that Kate may not be able to drive much longer and that I might trade in both cars when I buy a new one. This changed this week when I have significant repair bills on my car and have decided that I should buy a new car now. Kate asked me if I were planning to pass her car along to me. I told her I was not as it had so much more mileage than hers. I got to thinking later that she might have been thinking that her station wagon was getting to be too much for her and that she might do better with my car. Now I am beginning to wonder if getting her a smaller car might be an intermediate step. At the moment, I have decided against that.