We picked Pat up yesterday morning from her daughter's. It went okay. She was still sleeping and I had to wake her up and that is out of the norm. She was confused when her daughter came in but her daughter just acted like it was normal for her to go to work, kissed her mom goodbye, and breezed out. It works so much better than trying to "make it okay" because we will NEVER be able to make it okay for Pat. I quickly got her dressed, ready, and out the door before she had time to panic. Breakfast was fine, coming home was fine, and I took care of her clothes before she had time to notice them so that went well.
Then we went to my Dad's and she was very confused. She was upset that Mark didn't know where she was and how would she get home and where were her house keys, and on and on. I was able to reason with her that she lives with me, but I realized for the first time, this could be a problem eventually. We know a lot could get worse quick.
Even today, she is more confused. She has asked about her daughter coming here, even though she isn't. She remembers, somewhere in the clouds, something about her daughter, but doesn't remember the entire weekend. I feel bad for Pat to lose so much time. We all talk about how we need more time. Maybe we should feel lucky for all the things that make us busy. She has nothing but time on her hands and each step fades in to nothing behind her, like she was never there.
As the days go by, Pat declines, but only a little here and a little there. I hate this disease. It's impossible to gauge, study, and ainticipate what will happen. At times, we can figure what is triggering a certain reaction, but most of the time we can't so frustration sets in for us... and her.
We get frustrated and have to walk away... but we always want to come back. We know there will be a time, but right now, this is where she needs to be. Maybe just as much for our piece of mind as for hers. We missed Pat while she was gone. Don't get me wrong, we enjoyed our carefree, much needed weekend, but there was a spot where she was supposed to be. And we both felt it.
So I guess when I think about it, it was sweet for her to come home. Yes she was confused and a lot more edgy than most days, but this is where she belongs. This is her home where she has her bedroom, her routine, and her caregivers. And I think deep down she must know that.