Vacant Brain

Yesterday we got a call from Lugia, Leola's caregiver. She said she was going to have to start charging an extra $1000 a month for Leola's care because she is still getting up at night. Frankly, I'm surprised it took them this long.

Jon had a meeting in Vancouver this morning, so he went to see her on his way home. He told me she had even more memory loss just in the last 10 days since he saw her last. She didn't remember she had children, nor did the names of her two husbands mean anything to her. Before, if you reminded her of the names, she would remember, sort of. She recognized Jon's face, but didn't know who he was. Jon said she looked worse physically, too. She had a pasty, pale face with circles under her eyes. She had difficulty getting up out of her chair, which was new. She has stopped going outside and walking so much, which I'm sure is a relief to the caregivers, but certainly a change in behavior. However she seemed happy and in good spirits. I guess when you have a vacant brain, you can't remember enough to be unhappy. Literally every minute is like starting over.

He spoke with Lugia who said Leola can't remember anything at all. For example, one morning when Lugia was helping her dress, she said, "You put this on and I'll be right back. Then we'll have breakfast." Apparently Lugia was gone only 2 minutes. When she came back in, Leola was in bed thinking it was bedtime since she had already been wearing her nightgown. Toward the end of her stay with us she had, a couple of times, come upstairs with her nightgown and robe on saying she going to bed and it would only be 4 o'clock in the afternoon. When we pointed out the time, she would laugh and say, "Of course it is. I don't know what's the matter with me." Now she doesn't get it. She really doesn't know what is going on.

When Jon left she didn't get out of her chair to walk with him to the door, which she has always done.