I've said this before, but it's worth saying it again. This is a disease of extremes. While three weeks ago, Mummy was totally confused and didn't know where she was or why, a week later, she was able to report to the Monday caregiver something that had happened at church more than 24 hours earlier. Lord this disease can give you psychological whiplash!
Since that Sunday three weeks ago, all has been well with the world. No tears, no discombobulation, no confusion. Nada. We cool. Obviously, the day will come......but in the interim, we trudge along. The sooner I get a new professional opportunity or start my own business, the sooner we'll get caregivers in here eight hours a day. I've found that Mondays are the days when she is most like her old self. Perhaps it's that pride thing that kicks in and makes her stand up straight and make real conversation. Whatever it is, it's good for her. So onward ho.
So it is. Maybe tomorrow I'll write about the famed 'donut hole' in Medicare coverage.