clarity

One of my favorite patients is  Mr. Keller.  Months ago he told me stories about his work travels all over the world, and the beautiful wife he couldn't wait to come home to. Now I'm lucky to get a sentence or two from him, prompted by the pictures or treasures he has collected.  As his confusion worsens, he can't remember his wife's name, the date or where he lives.

Often the sentences I do hear from him are about guests coming over.  I get the idea that Mr. Keller was quite the host.

Today all Mr. Keller would say to me was "We need to get out the wine glasses."  I asked him how he was feeling, what he'd had for breakfast, if he had talked to his son.  But he was focused and determined.  "We need to get out the wine glasses before they come."

His caregiver and I looked at each other.  "No one is coming, he is just confused."  She whispered.  We assured him no one was coming.  We tried to redirect the conversation.  We told him the cafeteria had nice glasses.  But neither of us were going to get anywhere till he was satisfied. We looked around the little room.  At the sink were two, blue plastic cups.  She brought them to him.

Mr. Keller looked horrified.  "Oh no. We can't possibly serve fine wine in these."

We gave up.