Another Day Without a Sitter

For the second Monday in a row our sitter is sick and not able to be with us. I am sorry she is sick, but I am happy to spend the day with Kate. Rotary is taking a Thanksgiving week break, and I have no other special obligations. If I had anything, I could have arranged the agency to provide a substitute.

The good news is that I don’t have to be concerned about getting Kate up and dressed and take her to lunch before the sitter arrives. That seems to be an increasing challenge as she sleeps a little later. I am thinking about changing the time the sitter comes on Wednesday and Friday from 1:00 to 1:30 to give me a little extra time. I can’t do that on Monday since Rotary starts at 12:30.

I am glad to say that we ended on a high note yesterday. We went to dinner from Barnes & Noble and then came home. I watched a portion of the Monday night NFL game. I put the sound on mute and turned on some music that both of us could enjoy. Kate worked on her iPad until time for bed. I hope we start off as well this morning as we finished last night.

Why does “roller coaster” come to mind?

This has been quite a day. Let me see if I capture it in words. First of all, there was no sleeping in today. I heard Kate push open the door from the back of the house to the family room. When I checked, she was standing in the doorway fully dressed. It was 9:15. I walked over to her and said, “Good morning.” She said, “Let’s go.” She was impatient, ready for her muffin at Panera. I told her I needed a few minutes to get ready and that I would get her medicine for her. She said, “What medicine?” Apparently, she had forgotten she takes pills each morning. This was the first time she has responded this way about her meds.

She went to the kitchen. I went to our bathroom for her medicine. I heard her say loudly, “Hey.” Before I could answer, she said it again. I got the pills and headed toward the kitchen. Again, I heard her say, “Hey, are you coming?” It is not uncommon at all for her to rush me when she is ready. This morning she was more vociferous than usual.

I put her meds on the island where I put them every morning along with a glass of water. After taking half of them, she turned around to the sink and poured out the water. I noticed the others she had left and called her attention to them. This, too, is becoming a frequent pattern, so I am watching more closely to see that she takes them. When I pointed them out, she said, “Why didn’t you put them over here where I could see them – on the counter by the sink where she was standing.” (At one of Kate’s recent doctor’s appointments, the doctor mentioned the possibility of reducing the number she takes. He was talking about her Aricept (donepezil) and Namenda (memantine). I told him I didn’t know that they worked at all, but Kate was doing well. I wasn’t ready to drop them, primarily because there is some evidence that a decline sometimes follows that. I am still not ready to drop these two prescriptions; however, I believe we might be able to give up the vitamin D and calcium. That will be something to discuss at Kate’s next appointment.)

Once we were in the car, she continued her “gruffness” only this time she was trying to be funny. It wasn’t working. It was almost like a Don Rickles bit, and I was the victim. She said some of the things she has said before. She said that I wasn’t handsome and talked about my nose. She surprised me by asking me if she had a nose like mine. I told her she didn’t. She was relieved.

As we got out of the car, one of our Panera friends drove into the space beside us. I said something about his wife’s not being with him. Kate said something like, “I guess she didn’t want to be seen by you.” That is totally out of character for her. I’ve never heard her say something like that to anyone else but me. She was kidding, but it didn’t sound like it.

Once we were inside and about to sit down, Kate stopped and said something to a man seated at the next table. I didn’t heard what she said, but she was telling him something about me. She started to turn away. Then she stopped and said something else to the man. I set up her iPad for her and went to get her a drink. When I brought her drink to her, she said thank you. Then she spoke to the man she had spoken to earlier and said, “He’s really a nice guy.”

Her behavior was not just notable because she was teasing but not doing a good job of it. It was more like she were playing a role and not herself. Normally, she wouldn’t be talking so much, nor would she say the things she said. She continued in the car on the way to lunch. Once again, she was “teasing” me. Something came up about our relationship, and I told her we were married. She expressed surprise. That was nothing new. Then she said, “Is that for real?” I told her it was. She said, “I don’t know what I was thinking. In a few minutes, she said, “You know I’m kidding, don’t you?. You’re a nice guy. What’s your name?” Her tone was very different than before. She was more like herself.

As we settled in at our table in the restaurant, we had a rather typical conversation except that she was more talkative than usual. Several times she asked me questions about her mother and father, my name, her name and where we live. Our server commented that she hadn’t had to refill my coffee as much as she usually does. I also didn’t finish my salad before the entrée arrived. I told her I hadn’t had time because we were talking so much.

After lunch, we drove back to the house. On the way, Kate said she loved me. I told her I loved her as well. Then she said, “What’s your name?” She was very tired and asked if it would be all right if she took a nap when we got home. I told her that would be fine. She didn’t waste much time before she was in the bed where she remained for an hour and a half before I asked if she would like to get out of the house. She was ready, so now we are at Barnes & Noble. We’ll be here another thirty or forty minutes before going to dinner. I’m glad to say it seems like she is back to normal.

A New First in Connection with Sleep

Except for Thursday, Kate has slept late every morning this week. Night before last, she went to be bed later than usual. Several times I suggested that she get ready for bed. Each time she was engrossed with her jigsaw puzzles and wanted to finish “this one.” She always forgets and opens another one. I was able to get her into her night clothes, but she continued on her iPad after getting into bed. Finally, I decided to get in bed. That usually prompts her to do the same. This time she kept on working her puzzles. She didn’t want to but agreed to call it a night. It was after 10:00. She seems to need about twelve or thirteen hours a night, so I was a little concerned that she might be working her way into staying up longer and sleeping later. I suggested she stop for the night, and she reluctantly agreed.

Yesterday we had no obligations to be anywhere at any time nor did we have a sitter. I decided to let her sleep until about 10:30. That would have given her close to twelve hours sleep. As I have been doing lately, I turned on some music. About twenty minutes later, I checked on her. She was sleeping soundly. I tried to wake her gently. She looked up at me and immediately closed her eyes. I asked if she would like me to take her to lunch. She didn’t answer. I told her I would let her sleep a little longer. I went back a couple of other times before trying a little harder to get her up. That was shortly after noon. She was resistant. I asked if she would like me to go ahead to lunch and leave her with the housekeeper. She asked me to go ahead, and I did. That was a first. Each time I have given her the option to stay with the sitter and have the sitter take her to lunch later, she has always gotten up. That didn’t work this time. When I got back, she was still in bed. That’s when I told her I hated to get her up but felt I was concerned that she might not be able to get to sleep tonight if she stayed in bed much longer. She got up. As she does frequently now, she asked me where the bathroom is.  She held my hand as I walked her there.

She is still vacillating between wanting my help getting dressed and holding on to her independence. She started to dress herself. Then she asked that I stay with her. Ultimately, she needed help with every step. She struggled a second with her pants and then handed them to me to put on. She put on her socks by herself. Sometimes she gives them to me to put on for her. She handed her shoes to me so that I could put them on for her.

It was 2:25 when we left the house to get her some lunch. I had decided earlier to skip our customary lunch at Bluefish. We went over to Panera where she got a sandwich. We stayed there another until 4:00 and came back to the house. We relaxed in the family room. After a while, she put her iPad down, closed her eyes and rested in her chair. She was still tired even after getting up so late. Because of that I suggested that we eat early.

We had a very nice time at dinner. The food was good, but it was our time together that was special. We were both enjoying the moment. That doesn’t mean that she didn’t ask me the restaurant’s name multiple times as well as the city name. One of the new things is her asking, “What is Knoxville?” when I tell her where we are. I tell her that Knoxville is a city, like Fort Worth is a city. While eating, we talked about our marriage and being grateful that our love has lasted. She said, “I’ll tell you one thing. I’m going to keep you.” Immediately following that she said, “What is your name?”

Those of you who visit this site regularly know that we view eating out as a social occasion. We experienced a little of that as well. We saw two couples that I have known professionally. One of the women reminded me that she had hired me to lead a workshop at the State Library many years ago. I didn’t remember it at all. It must have been when I was just starting out because leading workshops was never a significant part of my career. I was pleased to see that the other woman immediately engaged Kate in conversation. We see her and her husband in various places around town and joined them for a few minutes at their table before we left.

On the way home, Kate asked, “Where are we staying tonight?” I told her we were going to stay in our “very own home.” She was both surprised and pleased. Since she is unable to remember where she is, she often feels like we are someplace else. Most of the time she thinks we are in her home town of Fort Worth. She said she was tired and was going to bed early. As we arrived at our house, she said, “It looks like they’ve kept up the house.” Then as she got out of the car, she said, “I haven’t the slightest idea where I am.”

Once inside the house, I put on an album of Puccini arias. She stopped working on her iPad to listen. When it was over, I asked if she would like to watch the last act of La Boheme. We had watched the first two acts the previous night. When it was over, we got ready for bed. She asked, “What is your name?” I asked, “Do you remember that we are married?” She nodded. I said, “Do you love me?” She said, “Yes.” Then I told her how long we had been married. She was as surprised as she has ever been. Then I said, “My name is Richard Creighton.”

Conversation

One of the things I have heard from other spouse caregivers is how much they miss the kind of conversations they used to have. That is something with which I can easily relate. If you are a regular visitor to this site, you have heard me talk about how well Kate and I get along. That is possible because we have let go of the things she can’t do and focused on what she can. That has enabled us to enjoy many things together – travel, music, theater, and social engagement with friends, family, and even strangers. I never imagined that we would be able to get along this well so far into our journey.

Having said that, our story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t recognize the impact that Kate’s Alzheimer’s has had on conversations between us and her conversations with others. There is much in life we can enjoy without depending on our rational thought processes, but much of ordinary conversation depends on memory of people, names, and events. We tell others about a book we are reading, or the movie we saw yesterday, the meal we had last night, what our children and grandchildren are doing. As Kate has lost her memory, she has significantly less that she can talk about. There is little content left.

Another consequence of her memory loss is not understanding what has been said. She often stops me and asks me to repeat what I have said. This is something that has become a greater problem recently. It is as though her brain’s processing has slowed down and the conversation is so rapid she can’t understand. Several times recently when we have been with a group, she has jumped in to say something like, “Wait, stop! Who are we talking about?” I have been pleased that she speaks up in this way. It shows she hasn’t dropped out of the conversation. That is her typical way of responding.

When it is just the two of us, she asks me to repeat a significant portion of what I say. Most of the time, it is because I am giving her information too quickly. She also misunderstands certain words. Sometimes I have to repeat a word several times before she gets it. She may have a build up of wax in her ears. She experiences that from time to time, but I don’t recall its affecting her hearing. I need to check this out.

It is especially easy for her to get lost in a group, even when we are with just one other couple. When we are at a table of six or eight for one of Casa Bella’s music nights, she simply withdraws. We have an hour for dinner and conversation followed by an hour and a half of music. In that case, the music saves the day.

Kate’s most successful conversations have been one on one. I can think of three of those that have occurred over the past year. One of those occurred with our friends, Ann and Jeff Davis. We were in their home when the conversation drifted into one between Jeff and me and another between Ann and Kate. It continued for quite a while. I recall overhearing Kate say a few things that were not accurate. When she can’t remember things, she fills in with something else. Otherwise, Kate appeared like a person without Alzheimer’s.

Another was a few months ago when she received a visit from a church friend. I left the two of them in the family room while I did a few things in the kitchen. I was amazed at the flow of conversation. It was a perfectly normal conversation between two friends. The most recent was two weeks ago today when our housekeeper was here. When we returned from lunch, she and the housekeeper sat down and talked for about thirty minutes. In all three of these conversations, Kate was an active participant. I loved hearing her speak so comfortably.

Earlier this week, we ran into a couple we have met at Barnes & Noble. They asked us to join them at their table. We spent about an hour in conversation. I was surprised at how active Kate was although she did not appear as natural. I had told the couple about Kate’s Alzheimer’s on a previous occasion, so I suspect they appropriately attributed her behavior to her illness. Instead of pulling back in the conversation, she gently worked her way into it. The problem was that she kept talking about her mother and interjecting her comments in the middle of what others were saying. Her comments were totally out of context. It appeared that she wanted to participate but couldn’t judge the appropriate timing and didn’t know what to say except to talk about her mother. As with other things, she doesn’t remember a lot of specifics about her mother. Thus, all her comments are expressions of how thoughtful and kind her mother was. She often says, “She liked to help people.” She repeated essentially the same things several times.

There is something else that happens when she speaks. This is new within the past six months or so. She can’t think of the words she wants to say. Sometimes she mispronounces a word incorrectly in a way that I don’t understand. When it is just the two of us, she often says, “Well, you know what I mean.” Most of the time, I don’t.

Overall, the nature of our conversation has radically changed. We talk less. When we talk, we express our feelings about life, our family, and things we have done together. I often tell her about specific things that I know she can’t remember. I do have a concern that when I tell her things it also serves as a reminder that she can’t remember. So far, she seems to like this, especially when I tell her about our children and grandchildren as well as her parents and grandparents. What I like best about our conversations is that they always focus on good things. I think that is good for both of us.

Confused Upon Waking

Adapting to Kate’s sleeping later may be getting more complicated. Yesterday, she was up early. That worked well because she and I had a 1:30 appointment to have our picture taken in connection with the foundation on whose board I served for nine years. Not having to wake her made it less stressful getting her ready so that we could have lunch before then.

Today, however, she slept late again, and it is a day for the sitter. I turned on some music at 10:15. Then at 10:45, I tried to wake her. She wanted to sleep a little longer. At 11:30, I tried again. I sat down beside her on the bed and put my hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked at me. She looked confused and asked, “Who are you?” When I told her my name and that I am her husband, she looked shocked. Here is my best effort to describe the conversation we had over the next twenty minutes or so.

RICHARD:              “Yes, I am your husband, Richard, and we have been married for 55 years.”

KATE:                       “What is your name?”

RICHARD:              “Richard Lee Creighton.”

KATE:                       “Say it slower.”

RICHARD:              “Richard <pause> Lee <pause> Creighton.”

KATE:                       “What is my name?”

RICHARD:              “Kate Franklin Creighton.”

KATE:                       “Say it again.”

RICHARD:              “Kate Franklin Creighton.”

KATE:                       “Let me say it. . . Kate . . . Wait a minute; say it again slowly.”

RICHARD:               “Kate <pause> Franklin <pause> Creighton.”

KATE:                       “Kate Franklin Creighton.”

RICHARD:              “Yes, and we have two children.”

KATE:                       “We do? <pause> What are their names?

RICHARD:              “Jesse Brewer and Kevin Creighton.”

KATE:                        “What is your name?”

RICHARD:               “Richard Lee Creighton, and I am your husband.”

KATE:                        “You are?” (with a look of disbelief)

RICHARD:              “It seems like you feel comfortable with me even though you don’t recognize me as your husband.”

KATE:                       “Yes.”

RICHARD:              “That’s probably because we have been together so long. We have been very happy together.”

KATE:                       “We have?” (with her first smile of the conversation)

RICHARD:              “Yes. I think we are a perfect match (she smiled with approval), and we have two children that we are very proud of.”

KATE:                       “We do? Why can’t I remember that?”

RICHARD:             “Well, sometimes our memory fades as we get older.”

KATE:                      “I don’t believe you, but it’s nice of you to say that.” (She is still perceptive.)

RICHARD:            “I love you, and I’d like to take you to lunch.”

KATE:                     “Where are my clothes?”

RICHARD:           “They’re right here on the chair.”

Then I helped her get up. When she was dressed, she said she wanted to go to the  bathroom. She said, ‘Where is it?” There was more than I have quoted above, but I think this captures the essence of the conversation. There was a good bit of repetition, both in her questions and my answers.

From this point on she did not appear to be confused though she was still unable to remember that we have children. That has been common for weeks, perhaps months, now.

Music and Time with Friends

After returning from the museum yesterday, I decided to make dinner reservations at Casa Bella. I knew it was one of their Broadway nights and that they were having another performance of the music from Les Miserables. We had already seen it once, so I wanted to see if we could eat in the front room that is separated from the music. To my surprise, they told me that I had reservations for four people in the room with the music. At first, I started to decline. Then I thought it might be fun to go and take someone with us. We’d been to dinner with Angela and Marvin Green a couple of weeks ago and have talked with them about the music nights at Casa Bella several times. I called, and they were able to go with us.

Kate and I had a wonderful time. Both the conversation and music were “as good as it gets.” It was a lively audience. That meant it was noisier before the music started. That didn’t prevent our own lively conversation. I do think it was harder for Kate to understand what was being said, but she enjoyed herself as much as the rest of us. She was moved by the music and expressed her joy audibly though softly enough that only those seated close to her could hear.

It was a day that could have been an ordinary Thursday, but it turned out to be special. The visit to the museum and the dinner and music with good friends were the highlight. I make a point of this because so many of my recent posts have focused on Kate’s decline, and I like to communicate that we continue to enjoy life. I don’t mean to minimize the sadness that accompanies Kate’s Alzheimer’s, but the stimulation of getting out as much as we can makes a significant difference in how well we are able to adapt. It works.

After dropping the Greens off at their home last night, Kate said, “Are we legal?” I said, “Do you mean ‘Are we legally married?’” I told her we are, and she said, “Good.” Later, when we got in bed, she said, “I love you.” I said, “And, we’re legal.”

A Visit to the Art Museum

I’ve been thinking about taking Kate to our local museum of art for some time . The past several days have been cold and rainy. It seemed like a good time to act on that desire. We went right after lunch yesterday. I didn’t tell Kate where we were going until we got out of the car. That’s when I mentioned that the museum had been undergoing a renovation, and I was interested in seeing what it was like.

Once in the gallery she was quite interested. I was surprised that she seemed to express more interest than I have noticed on previous visits to that museum or any other. Her interest was diverse and included sculpture and paintings of different periods and styles. It did not surprise me that she was taken by several paintings that included children and babies. One sculpture that she liked was of a young boy unclothed sitting in a chair. The accompanying information indicated that it was a depiction of childhood innocence. Moments later, perhaps seconds, she turned around to look at something else. When she turned back, she saw the sculpture again and responded as though it were the first time. She did the same thing with another favorite painting. It was a mother with her infant child in her lap. She had a hard time taking her eyes from it.

We had been there almost an hour when Kate wanted to find a restroom. I walked her to the door and waited just outside. In a few minutes, I heard her say, “Hello. . . Hello.” I suspected she was “lost.” I opened the door and said, “Hello.” She hadn’t been able to find the door. It was located so that she couldn’t immediately see it from either the stalls or the sinks. She hadn’t panicked, but she was relieved to see me. (This reminded me of an incident in Memphis the last time we visited our daughter Jesse. Kate locked herself in the restroom and couldn’t figure out how to unlock the door. This past Saturday when we visited our friend Ellen in her memory care facility, an attendant showed us the restroom and said that the door was always locked from the outside but not from the inside. They were not going to take any chances of a resident’s being locked in. One doesn’t usually think about little things like this until coming face-to-face with Alzheimer’s.)

I decided we had had a good visit. It was time to go back home. I plan to return soon.

More Confusion in the Past Two Days

Changes in the Past Two Days

Two things happened night before last that are indicative of the kind of changes Kate is making. After returning home from dinner, she sat down with her iPad. It wasn’t long before she asked for help. It turned out that she thought the puzzles were photos and was trying to figure out how she could label them. At first, I didn’t understand that and tried to show her how to put the pieces together. She responded by asking me to put the pieces in place. I worked two puzzles and asked if she didn’t want to work them herself. She said something that made me realize that she didn’t understand they were puzzles. Then she said she was tired and thought she would put the iPad aside and work on it “tomorrow.” I told her I would put on some music she might enjoy. She said she would to get ready for bed.

After she was in bed a few minutes, I noticed that she was shaking. I asked if she were all right. She said, “I think I made a big mistake and hope I didn’t mess things up.” I asked her to tell me about it. She didn’t know what she had done. She just thought she had done something she shouldn’t have. I told her I was going to take my shower. She said, “When you finish, will you come to bed.” I told her I would even though that would be a little early for me. After my shower, she was still worried about having done something wrong. All I could do was hold her and try to assure her that everything would be all right. I didn’t convince her, but she gradually calmed down and went to sleep.

Over the course of her illness, she has had periodic episodes that involved her thinking I had told her something that I hadn’t or that someone was coming to visit that wasn’t. I can’t help wondering if she is going to experience more of this kind of thing in the days ahead. I hope not. In the past, what she has imagined has bothered her. I hope we can avoid that.

During dinner last night and afterward, Kate was especially confused. She always asks the name of the restaurant as well as the hostess and our server. She just asked more times than usual and also appeared to be struggling more to get it right. She works so hard to remember names and places.

We had the following conversation on the way home.

KATE:            “What are we?”

RICHARD:    “Do you mean the nature of our relationship?”

KATE:            “Yes.”

RICHARD:    “We are married. Are you disappointed?”

KATE:            “No, I’m glad. What is your name?”

RICHARD:    “Richard Lee Creighton.”

KATE:            “What is my name?”

We are working our way into a regular routine when we return home. She said, “I’ll follow you.” She was impressed with the family room. As in the past, it was as though she had never been here before. Then something new occurred. She saw her iPad on a chair and asked, “What is this?” I said, “That’s your iPad” She gave me a look that I interpreted as, “What’s an iPad?” I explained it was something that she could use to work jigsaw puzzles. I wish you could have seen the excitement on her face. She said, “Oh, I’d like to do that right now.” I was shocked that she didn’t know what her iPad is, but it obviously caught her attention. As with people whose names she can’t remember, she didn’t recognize what it was, but she knew it was something familiar.

She mentioned wanting to brush her teeth. I told her to follow me to our bathroom. When she walked in our bedroom, she said, “Oh, this is nice.” Once again, she seemed not to recognize having ever been here before. After she went to bed, she said, “It’s been nice to stay here.” Apparently, she thought we were out of town.

When I got into bed, I moved close to her and put my arm around her. She accepted that as naturally as ever. Then she said something that made me think she didn’t recognize that I am her husband. I said, “You remember that I am your husband, don’t you?” She couldn’t believe it. Then she said, “Could we talk about this tomorrow?”  It seems like she is making noticeable changes on almost a daily basis. I don’t like the direction in which we are going.

Shopping

Until yesterday, it had been at least two years, maybe three, since I had taken Kate shopping. I find it easier to shop online for everything she needs. With our recent cold snap, she lacks winter clothes that fit. I was going to go online, but we are leaving for Texas next week and wanted to make sure she had something new for the trip. Thus, I took her shopping. I was looking for two types of things. One was tops that were a little heavier than what she normally wears. The other was a tunic-length cardigan sweater.

I had stopped taking her with me years ago when I found that it was confusing for her. She found it a challenge to make a decision as to what she liked and what she needed most or would wear. We often bought things she didn’t wear. I initially gravitated to shopping in her favorite stores without her. I stopped that because the clothes were generally expensive, and Kate would often wear them when working in the yard.

With this in mind, I was interested in how she might feel about going shopping again. To start with, she didn’t express any special interest in going. When I told her I wanted to take her to look for clothes, she simply went along with that the way she does with everything else I do. I shouldn’t have been surprised at her lack of enthusiasm. Since I started shopping for her, she hasn’t mentioned a need or desire to shop for anything. In fact, it doesn’t appear that she has ever noticed that I shop for her. When I give her something new to wear, I don’t mention that it is new or that I bought it. Yesterday, I told her I thought she could use a couple of tops like the one she was wearing, she simply accepted that without comment.

We went to a local department store that has a good selection with reasonable prices. Once we were in the shop, we both found a variety of things that were appropriate. The key was identifying something that fit, and, equally important, that Kate liked. One of the sales people directed us to two tables of tops and several racks of cardigans. We were able to locate tops that met our criteria. Kate was quick to identify the ones that she liked and those she didn’t. She tired very quickly and was ready to leave. I bought two tops and left the cardigans for another day when Kate is with the sitter. I didn’t even ask her to try them on. If they don’t fit, I’ll take them back. Handling her clothes continues to be one of the most troublesome chore for me.

Another Unusual Start

As I was about to get up this morning, Kate was slightly shaking and whimpering. I asked what was the matter. She didn’t say a word. It seemed like she was trying to hide whatever was bothering her. I stayed in bed and held her for a while. She calmed a bit, and I told her I was going to get up and that I would be in the kitchen if she needed me. I told her I loved her and wanted to help if I could. She said she loved me. I felt good because she didn’t seem to be experiencing the same kind of anxiety I have seen on several other occasions. When I first heard her, I immediately thought of her being afraid because she didn’t know where she was or who she is. If she was experiencing the same thing as before, it was much milder.

I could hear her whimpering again after I had dressed. I sat down on the bed beside her and asked what I could do to help her. She said she wanted to go to the bathroom. I helped her out of bed. She said she would be fine, but I asked if I could show her the bathroom. She nodded. I took her hand and walked her to the bathroom. When she came out of the bathroom, she asked, “What should I do now?” I told her it was still early and that she should probably get back in bed. She liked that. She was very groggy and confused. I helped her into bed and pulled the covers over her and reminded her I would be in the kitchen if she needed me.

About 10:00, I checked on her and found that she had gotten out of bed. I didn’t see her in our bathroom or the one for the bedroom next to ours. I found her under the covers in the bedroom where she keeps her clothes. She was awake but wanted to rest a while. I left her to do that. It is now about an hour later. I will check on her again and see if she would like to get up for lunch.