This is such a terrible, rotten illness. The changes won’t stop.
Today we were having lunch with our friends, Mary Anne and Richard, so when Bo got up (at 11:30) I had a note on the whiteboard on the kitchen table. He read it, then began asking the questions:
Who are Mary Anne and Richard? I don’t remember them.
What time are we meeting them?
What should I wear?
Who are we meeting? Do I know them?
Again and again.
I showed him computer pictures of Mary Anne and Richard. He looked at the pictures but remembered nothing … not them … not their dog … not their boat, the one we’ve spent days and weeks on.
The same questions continued for an hour and a half , even after we parked the car and while we were walking toward the restaurant. Who are we meeting?
But then as we stood outside the restaurant, he announced, “There’s Richard across the street.” And he was right.
Later, while we were eating, Mary Anne asked about our new dog Emma.
“What dog?” Bo asked.
“Emma. Our dog.”
“We have a dog? I didn’t know that. Why haven’t I seen her?”
I talked about Emma, and Bo was completely confused, yet an hour later, when we arrived at our car, he teased me, saying, “Where’s the dog? She must have escaped from the car.” (She gets daily rides with us.)
Tonight I taught my classes , and as I do each Monday, I left Emma’s food covered with Saran wrap on our dryer in the laundry room where she eats. At 5:30 I called to tell him where it was and where to set it so Emma could eat her dinner. I actually asked him to walk into the laundry room as I was on the phone so I was sure he found it.
But when I got home, the full food bowl still sat on the dryer. He must have put a tablespoonful of food into her water bowl because the water was murky. And in the kitchen I found him with Emma and Mikey cat, all eating ice cream.
So this is the way things are now: unpredictable, unexpected. Sometimes confused, sometimes not. Some days good and some days bad. It’s the Alzheimer’s way.