"I don't know who you are"

"I don't know who you are."  That's how Jeanne started her day yesterday...as she was looking right at me.   So that's how I started my day too.  Hearing that my wife of 16 years didn't recognize me.  I wish I could better articulate the impact of this moment but I don't know if the words have been invented that can accurately describe what it feels like at at that split-second when the floor seems to fall away from your feet. 

Knowing that this day was coming didn't seem to help.  Even seeing that just a short time later, Jeanne seemed to know me again didn't do much to mitigate that moment.  And her words were so clear, the room so quiet, that I couldn't even escape to that lovely river that flows through Egypt -- denial.  Nope.  There was no two ways about it...Jeanne's cognitive disconnection had reached a new low.  One more defnitive reminder that one doesn't get better from a chronic progressive disease. 

I spent a long time trying to find the upside here.  And the very best that I could come up with is that as upsetting as this episode was to me, Jeanne remained completely unaware of any of it.  So my mission became simple -- get over it, learn to live with it and do what I'm supposed to be doing -- make sure Jeanne is comfortable.  So that's my plan...to remember that as upsetting as these cognitive lapses are to me, the blessing is that Jeanne isn't aware of them.  All I need to do is keep her comfortable. 

As to my own comfort, I'll be talking to our close friends, letting them do what they've already demonstrated that they do best -- lend their support.

Comments

[Sheryl]

Just last week, my husband and I were having this conversation and I said it would really be sad if one day he turned to me and didn't know who I was. His reply comforted me temporarily...he said..."That could never happen." And I knew it could. I'm so sorry you had to go through it...and I really understand...more and more I feel invisible to him.

[Patti]

this happened to us when my dad (my mother's caregiver) was in the hospital. my mom (who has ms) woke up one morning and had no recollection that daddy was in the hospital. she panicked. it was horrible. she was blaming us for not telling the truth. she finally snapped out of it and began to remember. ms is cruel.