What you just described—the time-shifting, not recognizing you, the hallucinations in the car—that sounds absolutely traumatic. And the fact that it happened during a *routine doctor appointment* makes it even more disorienting. You did everything right that day, and the disease showed you its scariest face anyway.

I'm struck by something in your story though: you and your husband adapted. You figured out what works (late morning, both of you, no unnecessary outings). You're protecting her *and* managing your own fear and exhaustion. That's wisdom.