Thursday, October 28, 2010

Escape From the Rest Home, Part I

So my aunt & uncle from California call me Monday to tell me that my father has informed them that his younger brother in Colorado is coming to take him to Denver where Dad, younger brother, younger brother's wife, and their crack-baby granddaughter are all going to live together, happily ever after. WTF? I know Dad was bummed that he didn't win more at last Thursday's Casino Run, but I didn't think he was that unhappy.


So I talk to the director at Shady Acres and ask what I need to do to prevent this from happening. She tells me that based on the power of attorney documents she copied when we checked him in, I must do nothing. It's already done and in force. I am the only person who has a say in where Dad lives. Done, finished. Like He-man, I have the power. Relieved, I go back to work without even visiting him since he's not expecting me until Tuesday.


Tuesday I show up at the expected time figuring he'll tell me all about it. He only tells me part. Says he's not happy at Shady Acres. He's not as disabled as I think he is. This is not how he wants to spend the end of his life. Blah, blah, blah. Not one word about younger brother. Not one word about talking to real estate agents or loan officers. I humor him. I ask if he wants to go look at houses. He says yes. I say look through the paper and tell me which ones you want to see. I leave.


I'm so flustered by his bombshell, and his lack of full disclosure that I forget his laundry. But it's the perfect excuse for my stealth mission the next day. I breeze in five minutes after they put lunch on the table at Shady Acres so I can have some alone time in Dad's room. Just me and the numbers on his telephone's Caller ID list. God I love technology. I copy down the list paying special attention to the numbers in Colorado. I gather the laundry. I kiss him goodbye and return to work.


Where I proceed to Google each and every number on the list. Telemarketer's are the toll free numbers. A couple of the numbers must belong to younger brother. I hit pay dirt. One of the numbers belongs to a loan officer at a Colorado mortgage company and her web page has an email link. I explain to her that the man she's been consulting with is an assisted living resident that is not currently able to leave assisted living and that since I have power of attorney over him and his affairs, I hope she hasn't gone to too much trouble coordinating the stated needs of my Dad.


She responds that she had no idea of his real situation, could only go by what he'd said on the phone. I responded that I was sure that was the case, gave a few more details and my sincere apologies for any inconvenience she may have gone to. Five minutes after I click send my cell phone rings. It's the loan officer. She is calling to give me a pep talk, support, and to tell me of her own horror stories when she went through the trials of an aging parent. We cry on the phone together. Later she sends me the contact info for the real estate agent Dad's been talking to.


In the evening I touch base with the California relatives, who know that Dad is right where he needs to be, and they tell me that they spoke with Dad after my lunchtime visit and Dad told them that the Colorado relatives were NOT going to rescue him after all. I am relieved. Not that they could take him out of there; the staff at Shady Acres is aware of the plot and have orders not to let Dad depart the premises without my blessing or company. I'm just not looking forward to having to sic the police on people who are in not much better shape than Dad is. However I think they are just after Dad's money so that mitigates any misgivings I have about ripping them new a$$holes. At this point, having talked to the loan lady and knowing I will do the same with the real estate agent, I think we've pretty much put closed to the issue.


Today I emailed the real estate agent. He responds that he has already talked to Deb and is aware of the situation. He wishes me the best of luck in getting Dad to accept the situation. A few hours later he calls to say that Dad has contacted him again to tell him what areas of Colorado he would like to live in. Double WTF! Dad's not actually thinking he can move somewhere alone, is he? I would say that even no-good younger brother as a housemate is better than none, but I know the no-good younger brother, he is not better than none. Real estate agent then proceeds to tell me his personal horror story of his father, who had Alzheimer's. I am surrounded by fellow travelers who feel my pain and offer support and kind words.


I would love to see my father living independently in his own home, but given his current physical state, and sometimes foggy mental state, this is not possible. My plan is to have lunch with him on Sunday and explain that I know all about the sneaky dealings he's doing with the Colorado business people and that they have been told that someone other than him has power over his affairs. I will encourage him to participate in medical care that would improve his physical condition to the point of independence and that when he can demonstrate that independence to me, I will be happy to coordinate finding a new home for him.


Wish me luck. I'm going to need it.

Friday, October 22, 2010

For a good laugh...

My tools display tells me the top searches that returned a link to this site are:
  1. roman bust
  2. pharoh
  3. roman busts
  4. life imitates art
  5. roman bust sculpture
You'd think this was an Art & History blog, eh?