More Perfuckity

If blogging was a regular job, I'd have been fired months ago.

But I keep the blog going; it represents my hopes for getting back to me time.

New home, new job, staying on top of things so unbloggableness doesn't rear its ugly head. Yeah, it keeps me busy.

Lately, the problems of caring for our elderly mother have resurfaced. Those of you here last summer might remember. Those of you who helped me with phone calls and emails are forever in my grateful prayers.

Nutshell:

Despite mom's outbursts, manipulations, and craziness; we got her into the assisted living place she wanted. I should not say we as I take no credit. My nephew and niece in California physically moved her days (minutes) before she would have been evicted.

My nephew paid for her first three months (her long term health care does not kick in until after three months).

Mom's doctor had the paperwork for her insurance application. Mom needed help with her meds, big time. She needed help bathing and dressing as she had fallen three times - breaking her arm twice and splitting open her head once. She needed help with her finances and paperwork as she was declared "mildly" incompetent. Mildly my ass.

Once in, you would think she would be grateful and relax.

But no.

She fought my sister (who took the responsibility of POA). Mom would not let my sister do anything. POA doesn't override my mom, just makes sis partners. Mom's doctor didn't think mom was crazy and incompetent enough to sign off on a conservatorship.

Doc did, however, change mom's insurance application at mom's request. She took off the check marks for bathing, dressing, and meds help. Just left the mildly incompetent. This was to save mom money as each need adds more to the bill.

Doc did not bother to notice mom's insurance won't cover her for only one check mark.

The assisted living home let it slide (they were getting paid).

Now, mom's insurance got denied and suddenly they are calling my sister and nephew more often than the stupid political campaigns.

Ever had one of those years where EVERYTHING was difficult. A challenge.

So. NOW they (and mom) want our help.

I'm posting the letter I wrote to the doctor tomorrow. Any of you ever get in a similar position, feel free to take it and revise it for your own.