Day 3: "Are you trying to murder me?"

This was a new one. The funny thing is, there was nothing combative in her mien when she asked. But Schmidt was offering her morning medicines. He laid them out and asked her to swallow them with a little water. And in a very quiet, almost curious voice, Ma Schmidt asked about the pills, "Are you trying to murder me?"

"No, of course not! Your doctor prescribed these to make you feel better."

OK, no problem.

Other questions from the morning included:

"Where am I?"

"In your house."

"This is my house?"

"Yes."

"I own it?"

"Yes."

"Free and clear?"

That struck me. She couldn't remember where she was—or even, at points, who she is—but for a moment she remembered enough about home-ownership to understand the importance of owning "free and clear" rather than owing money on a mortgage.

"Yes, you own it free and clear."

And she relaxed a bit.

Sometime later she asked if we were planning to put her away in an institution somewhere, and we told her of course not. That was shortly before she asked if we were trying to murder her. So I assume that at that point she had just woken up from a bad dream of some kind, and was unclear on the difference between the storyline of her dream and the storyline of real life.

The other conversations have been repeats from previous days, or at least not particularly striking. I made another joke that got another wry scoff, which I take to be a good sign.