Hello? Is Anybody Here?

We're in the kitchen, sitting at the table. I'm on my laptop, trying to transact a little business online, and he's looking at a travel brochure. It would be inaccurate to say he's reading it. He's looking at the pictures of Alaska.

He gets up suddenly, leaves the room, and starts going down the hallway.

"Hello? Is anybody here?" he asks.

"I'm right here!" I respond, bewildered. I'm still sitting at the table. How can he turn around and forget that I'm right there?

But he doesn't hear me or doesn't comprehend what I've said. He is now farther down the hallway.

"Is anybody home?! Where did everybody go?" He sounds anxious now.

"I'm in the kitchen, honey," I reassure him. "I haven't gone anywhere," I add as I get up from the table and head for the hallway. But he is already making his way back to where I am. He seems relieved to see me. I notice that he has turned on all the lights. The outside lights, the hallway lights, the lights in all the bedrooms and bathrooms.

"Would you like me to turn on the television for you?" I suggest.

"Yes, please," he says. He heads downstairs to the Man Cave, where he likes to watch television. But only if I sit with him. He doesn't watch by himself anymore as he used to do not that long ago.

I go back upstairs for a moment to get my laptop and to turn off the lights. I come back to the Man Cave. He is watching Blue Bloods. Sort of. He has fallen asleep. But it will only be for a moment. He will doze on and off until bedtime. And then he will sleep for a little while, get up and wander around, come back to bed, sleep for a little while, get up and wander around. Eventually, I will fall asleep, too. But not for long.

Who Am I Sleeping With?

The good news is that my husband is doing very, very well. I stopped writing this diary last year. In fact, almost exactly a year ago. In a way, it was too depressing. In another way, it would have been a good outlet. And yet again, there are things I just like to hold close to my chest. Even if nobody else is ever going to know.

So, I've been skimming through my entries -- some posted, some not -- and, yes, he is doing very well. The medications have done a good job of slowing the progress of the disease. Not stopping it, mind you. That will take the miracle I continue to expect. And the mood stabilizer has worked wonderfully well. Most of the time, it's a joy to be with him. He has become much more gentle. Much more caring. Most of the time.

He is having very active dreams. Much more so than before. He talks in his sleep almost every night. Not the kind of "talk in your sleep" that most of us do, you know, muttering and sputtering and rolling over and being quiet. It's out loud. Sometimes he wakes himself up; sometimes not. But I wake up, however briefly. And so I am tired most of the time due to interrupted sleep. Or inability to go back to sleep. Whichever. So I am sometimes crabby, which makes me sad.

The strangest thing happened about a month ago. Actually, twice one week (one night and the next night), and twice the following week. But not since. Yet.

The first night, I was already half awake because the room was very quiet and still. It was odd. Then I heard, "Who am I sleeping with?" I replied, "Your wife." And he said, "Oh. That's what I thought." And then he went back to sleep. I did too, eventually, but I was in a state of disbelief. What?!

The next night, it was, "Hi, I'm Harry." And the following week, "Hi. Have we met?" And, "I'm Harry. How ya doin'?" On the plus side, he didn't seem disappointed to find out it was his wife next to him. He seemed relieved.

Now, those are some pretty vivid dreams, if you wake up and you're not too sure who's in bed with you. I hope the part before the talking was interesting and exciting. We all need interesting and exciting experiences, even if they aren't really happening.