Caverns of emotion (William)

I sat with William for a while yesterday. Lately his emotional episodes are becoming more frequent and at times very distressful. He will often start out being in a vey good expansive mood; then it will morph and he will become very angry and somewhat belligerent, which will then slide him into a deep sadness causing him to weep without restraint. The sequel varies of course, for whatever he feels in the moment he experiences it totally…. it seems to become his world and he seems to drown in it. Not much can be done when he becomes angry or sad, but we try anyway. His moods will go from one to the other rapidly on some days; on others he will get stuck. When they pass he seems to have no conscious memory of the experience.

So yesterday, he was going from crying to then being talkative and happy. So I took him to the little chapel here and brought along a couple of books that I am reading and sat with him. He had a little stuffed toy, a zebra that we played catch with for a while. Then he kissed the little toy and held on to it. We talked (sort of). He would say something that I did not understand, and then I would pretend I knew what he was talking about and counter with some kind of rejoinder. This went on for a while, and then he started to have a conversation with the ‘others’. Memories and people from the past seemed to become real to him and he carried on a merry conversation for about thirty minutes.

Then he started to sing; something that I think is always beautiful to listen to. Sometimes I can understand the words; at others not. Then there are times when he just makes noises that are sung out with a particular melody, one that I have not been able to name. I think that along with being a musician, he must have also been a singer, though he has never really talked about his past. I know however that he does love Jazz. Billy Holiday seems to be one of his favorites and she is one of mine as well.

When he finally calmed down, I took him back to the main room and he was ok for the rest of the day. As his dementia worsens, I guess his moods are becoming more extreme and at times painful for him. The hardest thing about this is there are times when he can’t be reached. No comfort is possible. When he is happy and lost in some other world, it is not so bad. But when he weeps forlornly, it can be hard to watch without being able to do anything.

He still enjoys certain things, and has good days along with the bad; just like everyone else. He loves coffee in the morning along with his French toast, or scrambled eggs and sausage. Coca Cola is also something that he loves to have. Though we give him the decaffeinated variety; for obvious reasons. Another gift… he does sleep well at night which is a real bonus for him. There have been people that we have taken care in the past who did not sleep well and no matter what meds we used did not help much. Then their days and nights got mixed up which made it more complicated and difficult to take care of them.

So he continues; it has been many years now that he has been with us in this condition and who knows how much longer it will continue. He is vey lovable even when he is giving us a hard time, for he does not know what he is doing. He is past the point when I can just tell him what he has and it gives him a reason why he gets confused and lost. No that time is past. He is just confused and lost much of the time and all we can do is to try to make him as comfortable as possible and keep him in a safe environment.

I have no idea what his inner world is like at this point in time. He does not seem to understand or know that he is confused, so perhaps he just slides from one inner landscape to the next, fully engrossed while forgetting what he experienced just a few minutes ago. Yet there are times when he still calls me “Markey” and shakes my hand. Most of the time however I am just one of his friends from the past and all I can do is just play along best as I can. William’s mind I believe is still there, it is his brain that is not working right. Sort of like trying to drive a car when the steering does not work. How aware people like him are of this I don’t know, but just as Leo would tell me a couple of times when he was still with us: “You know Mark, I am still here”.