Finally Setting In? We Can Hope.

It's been 5 1/2 months since Fay moved to Baltimore and Courland Gardens. We expected some difficulties with the transition, and there were more than a few. As I mentioned earlier in this blog, Fay was abusive at times to the staff and some of the residents. She had her share of infections and other acute illnesses. I used to get called once or twice a week with a report about her behavior, blood sugar, bruise, or other problem.

But lately things have been more stable. Fay has settled in to her new environment and seem less anxious about her new surroundings. Wendy thinks it's to her advantage that her default operating condition is to be pleasant and outgoing. So even though Fay doesn't recognize her caregivers or the residents she is around every day, she still calls them "honey" or "my dear friend" and tells each of the staff that she loves them and how pretty they look. Much more Fay-like.

I have been thinking a lot lately about what it must be like to live without memory. I was visiting Fay on Thursday, the day that Ted Kennedy died. Fay didn't know who Ted was, nor did she remember JFK or RFK. The pictures on the TV spurred no memory. So she lives her life almost completely context free. Nothing that happens in the world at large makes any difference to her. Imagine what it must be like not to be able to anticipate a visit or special occasion. If you can't remember that someone is coming to visit, you can't be excited about the prospect. Of course, you also aren't alarmed when you hear that something is going to change for a short period of time, because you don't remember the details of the change ten minutes after you're told.

Maybe this is what people mean when they compare people with dementia to small children. Each day is the same because you don't know what's going to happen and someone else makes all the decisions for what you do and when. For example, on Thursday I stayed until someone came to take Fay to dinner. "You must be hungry, Fay. I know I am," the aid said. "I sure am, honey," said Fay. "Well then let's get you up and into the dining room." I kissed Fay goodbye and the three of us left her room. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?" said Fay to the aid.

It's Hot In the Mid-Atlantic

It's been a very had week here. We also have had our share of thunderstorms and other weather, some from Hurricane Bill.

Fay was looking pretty good this week. She's been having trouble expressing herself and communicating, but we heard a few complete thoughts on Saturday. Some were right out of her usual play-book. She introduced us, for the nth time, to Arthur a resident who often sits near her at activities. "This is my family," she said as she poked him to get his attention. Fay doesn't know Arthur's name. She also proclaimed to her roommate, "I'm having such a good time with them here!" Since Rebecca doesn't hear very well, there was no response. The expected and proper answer would have been to gush about how lucky Fay is to have such a wonderful family. We think some of the tension between Fay and Rebecca stems from Rebecca's lack of dramatic and outwardly expressed appreciation for Fay's family.



One of the activities on Saturday was picking which of the pictures from Wendy and Simon's visits to put on Fay's bulletin board. We think she picked two good ones.

Wendy and Simon Visit

Simon enjoys great-grandma Fay's bracelet. It used to be a charm bracelet. Now the only charm left says Wendy, 6-29-72.


Simon chats it up with great grandma while sitting on Saba's lap. Fay seems to be trying to interpret the toddler babble.


Simon's not getting away so easily from great-grandma Fay.


Smelling flowers in the courtyard.


Wendy and Simon watch great-grandma Fay take a drink in her room.



Fay's great-grandson Simon usually goes to a day care a couple days a week while his mom Wendy works from home. This week was the day care lady's vacation, so Wendy and Simon took the train from New Jersey to Baltimore to spend some time with us. Wendy and Simon were able to fit in three visits to Fay this week. The first visit was Margie, Wendy and Simon on Monday. Then on Thursday I took off in the morning and the three of us went back for a second visit. Because Wendy's train didn't leave until later in the day on Saturday, we fit in a visit on Saturday morning, too. You can see some pictures of these visits (in no particular order) above.

We were lucky that the weather was not too hot. Simon enjoyed running around the courtyard and smelling the flowers. He also got a big kick out of the bird cage, featuring very noisy and active exotic birds.

Fay really enjoyed these visits. Simon gave her kisses on her hand and liked stroking her hand and leg. At one point Simon sat on Fay;s lap. She found some unexpected strength holding him; we had to pry Simon out of her vice-like grip when it was time to put him down.

Fay seems pretty tired lately. We found her sleeping in her wheel chair at each visit. Usually she perks right up when we wake her, but sometimes she seems pretty out of it for a while. On Saturday she was at shabbat services, dressed in a skirt (but sleeping). I think she goes to services every Saturday, but she doesn't remember and says not. I'm a little worried about her right hand, which continues to get weaker. She almost never uses it now.

A Weekend in the Heartland

It was a busy week for us. I was in Omaha on business so Margie stopped by to see Fay in the middle of the week. It was the day that Fay had her hair done; Margie said she looked great. She seemed to understand a lot of the conversation, which centered on Margie's and my rendezvous in St. Louis. On Friday I flew (with some difficulty) from Omaha to St. Louis where Margie joined me. We wanted to take the opportunity to see our St. Louis family and friends.

Fay understood who we were going to visit and said how much she missed her family. As I have noted earlier in this blog, her family is everything to her.

The central part of the weekend was a 35th anniversary party for Jessica and Harold Fadem. It was a wonderful party. At the beginning of the festivities, Harold's sister Anita Wallach told the story of how the couple were introduced. It turns out that Fay ran into Anita in the grocery store. Jessica had been recently divorced and Fay asked Anita if she knew anyone who would be interested in dating a lovely woman. Anita suggested Harold, who was also divorced. The rest is history.

It's great to remember how involved Fay was in the lives of her nieces and nephews. Over the weekend we had some good laughs about Fay's golfing lessons and other shared experiences with my cousins.

On Sunday, before we left for home, Margie and I stopped by the cemetery to check on my father's grave. An irony (or coincident at least) is that Fay's sister Mary had just been buried nearby, so there was lot's of evidence of visitors to my dad's grave as well as others in Fay's family. We gave my dad an update on Fay as well as his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, of whom he would be extremely proud.