The last couple of weeks have been a very good experience, with my love on sufficient meds, including an anti-depressant at night which helps him sleep. There have been no blow outs, no cynicism or snarkiness. Some dizziness, but overall an attitude of trying to be helpful and co-operative. Even the odd joke, and some improved cognition, it seems to the caregivers. Even picked up his guitar and picked out a tune, which he hadn’t done for ages.

But today we entered another realm. As we were making love, he said, “This is wonderful, it is our first time.” I was understandably startled, and then agreed that it was great, but I mentioned that we had done it before. However, he was not to be detoured, and continued to seek information about me: how old I was, and whether I had other lovers, or children, and joking that some man was going to come beat him up.

I thought showers and daily activity would change this up but no, as I made some food, he said, “Well, I really have to get hold of Delores, I have to tell her what is happening. It’s not fair to her otherwise.”

As the day continued he asked over and over, “How am I going to get home?” and, “Do you know where Delores is?”

At one point as I said, “I am Delores,” he looked right at me and said, “What! You too!”

These questions were sometimes followed by a sort of fleeting startled realisation that something was not quite right in his own mind, and then the understanding was gone. “Have you heard from Delores?”


As this continued I began to feel quite light-headed and dizzy, as if I was evaporating in my own head. Fortunately a caregiver came, and I was able to get out for some fresh air.

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