January 4, 2026

At Julian’s last visit with his neurologist (about a month ago), he could not remember:

  • his address;
  • the day of the week;
  • the month;
  • the day of the month; or
  • the year.

When asked to draw a clock face showing the time as 1:20, he circled the word “clock,” and wrote “1:20” below it.

He could not subtract 7 from 100.

His gait and affect have changed significantly. He walks haltingly, and his resting face is different. He has a mildly puzzled smile most of the time.

His sleep is often disturbed, although he does not seem aware of it. He also does not seem aware of or disturbed by his changes in cognition. Almost all of the time, he is pleasant and seems happy. However, he wants me near him almost constantly, and the range of things he can do by himself is becoming more and more limited. He can no longer do any household chores except our laundry, which he does obsessively (sometimes twice a day; I’m not sure where he gets it all from!).

In conversation, he does something called looping. For example, we’ll be going to the grocery store, and he will want us to pick up something like K-Cups. He mentions that he needs K-Cups. I tell him they’re on the list. We get to the door, and he tells me we need K-Cups. I tell him they’re on the list. Halfway down the sidewalk, he tells me we need K-Cups.
This continues until we get to the store and put K-Cups in the cart.

He is generally confused a great deal of the time. Just now (it’s 2:00 PM), he told me he wanted to watch the news. So I set it up for him (he can’t use the remote). I came back into the bedroom, and I saw that he was getting undressed. I asked him why, and he said, “I’m trying to get that together,” and pointed to his closet. “Can I help?” I asked, and we walked over to the closet.
Once there, he reached for his sweatpants. “You don’t need, those, sweetheart. You already went walking with Meghan.”
“Oh,” he said.
“Do you want to put your jeans back on?”
“They’re in the wash.”
Rather than point out that he’d only been wearing them for half an hour, I got a fresh pair out of his dresser, and he put them on, put his t-shirt, socks, and shoes back on, and settled down to watch the news.
(I may have found a clue about the amount of laundry he finds to do! <g>)

As I said, he is usually pleasant and happy. The exception to this occurs on some evenings. He is on medication for sundowners syndrome, and I am wavering about asking Dr. Patel to increase his dosage. On the one hand, I hate to give him anything that might increase his confusion. On the other hand, these episodes are extremely unpleasant, especially for the grandchild who (along with my daughter, Maria) lives with us. Maria and I can understand that it’s not really Jules screaming obscenities at me, but it’s harder for a sixteen year old.