Follow Up

I did go over. Yesterday.

And we sang together. It made us both cry, but it was good. The singing was pretty good, too.

And I have to say that the different doctor and the three pills have made a difference in her. So much so that I wonder if it is really Alzheimer's. Some things say it is, like the repeated stories and the occasional failure of words.

But wait. Doesn't that happen to me, too? And to you?

One story she has told me three times. Twice on the phone and the third time yesterday. This time she said, "Have I told you how all this started?" I said yes, but she told me again anyway. And I'm just now beginning to see what it might mean.

Here's the story, in brief.
It started about a year ago at the YMCA. She and her husband would go there a few times every week to work out and to swim. This one day, she got out of the pool, walked to the dressing room, pushed to open the door . . . and that is the last thing she remembers until she woke up to find about thirty people standing over her. She does not know how long she was unconscious or why she fell. She remembers that her head hurt.
That's because she had hit her head on something. Ten stitches on one side and three on the other. I suppose they shaved her head. She said nothing of that. She said again, "That's when this whole thing started."

Yesterday's visit revealed this, which was new information: For a while after that incident, she did not know who her husband was and so on. "So on" meaning there were other things she could not remember

So what does that sound like?