Have you had your turn yet? I didn't think I would ever have a turn, but now I know - you are never completely ready, it just becomes your turn. I am referring to taking care of an aging parent. One with dementia. One where the relationship was never a "10" to begin with at any age. Hoo boy. And I am 900 miles away. It’s my new part-time job.
Often my day is punctuated with talking to social workers, doctors, the psychologist, the companion, the Guardian Ad Litem, staff of long term care facilities, Dad’s bank and of course D-A-D. Some days I just turn off the phone and self-preserve.
In short order, I have learned the difference between Medicare and Medicaid. And that my dad's insurance is a substitute for Medicare but bills still are paid by Medicare. I have retained real estate attorneys to learn about short sales and foreclosures. I have read and filled out stacks of documents relating to Guardianship and Conservatorship. I know what Adult Protective Services will and will not do. My learning curve is straight up.
Paperwork. I have two folders, each about an inch thick, summing up my dad's life and statistics. One folder is to manage the house in Florida he abandoned with more money owed than its sale price. Upside down. Yep. What bank loans an 80 year old man with no income $157,000.00?
Then there's the folder with all the Medicaid, Guardianship and Conservatorship papers. Geez. Just filling in the blanks is tiring and that's when I know the information. When I don't know how to answer a question, I learned where to go for information: just make a phone call and if that agency can't help you, they will usually direct you to who can. Don't stop asking until you get an answer. At least I have been blessed in that regard.
One time I was talking to someone in the probate court system in Michigan, late on a Friday. She was gracious enough to not mention that it was quitting time and she didn't have the energy for my stupid questions. What she did say instead made us both laugh: "Both our parents are already dead and we are so happy!" I knew what she meant. It’s either laugh or cry and I take the laughs where they turn up.
On another occasion I was speaking to a woman in the Medicaid office and I was so frustrated I started to cry. I tried to end the conversation abruptly and she encouraged me to stay on the phone. She was compassionate and shared that she had been through a similar situation with a family member; she understood how hard it is to wade through the system, even when you work for the agency and already know all the ins and outs. I sent her a thank you card the next day.
Intertwined with all the legalities is the personal relationship with my dad. I think a fair estimate is in the last four months, 85% of our conversations is Dad yelling at me and making threats to never speak to me again. Initially this was a shock to my system. He blames me for ruining his life. He asks what he has ever done to me to deserve the torture I am raining upon him. He does not understand that I am ensuring he will receive all the care he needs by my taking these steps. He cannot see the love behind it all and will not listen to reason or logic. I really get that this is mostly the dementia, and I do mean mostly, because he has blamed others for his misery his whole life.
Lately all he does is cry when he calls. No "hello", no words, just cry. This is heartbreaking, trying to console an inconsolable child. I ask him what is bothering him and he can't tell me. He turns the phone over to his companion and she takes a stab at what might be the problem. This happens almost daily now and nothing is ever resolved. I am working on getting him on new meds. Next problem solving: how to get him to an appointment when he and his companion are wholly resistant to showing up and often cancel.
I think it is in his best interest to stay where is now for as long as possible. At the same time, I have made preparations to move him to long-term care with all the financial ducks in a row. It's a double-edged sword because I think once he is moved he will just fade away. At least now he has some happiness, however fleeting.
In the interest of eliminating his car/insurance payment I decided to buy his car. It’s not a car I would normally buy/drive but this will ease his finances. Further, he cannot drive anymore. I secured a car loan and Michael scheduled a flight to Michigan to pick up the car, only to find out the very next day that as Guardian, I cannot buy the car because it looks like I am taking advantage of an incapacitated individual and I could go to jail. The simplest of solutions became another problem. We are still working on that one.
My sister is working on getting some financial benefits for my Dad from the VA. He served in the Navy in WWII. She is an angel for taking this on. I do not have the time or energy to explore this and it looks more promising than any other avenue I have tried. It just became her turn, too. It’s a game of "Find Out How Much You Don’t Know (Yet).”
Need I mention the personal expenditures brought on by these efforts? My sisters are generous in helping out for which I am grateful. What do people do when they don’t have the wherewithal to manage the care of the aging? I think about people my age who are managing both aging parents and their own children and I feel grateful that my plate is only half full, even when it feels like it is overflowing.
For fleeting moments, I wish I had not initiated managing my dad’s care. Other times I am tempted to just move him to a nursing home and get it over with. Then I think about how many years my dad worked to support six kids and I keep on keepin’ on. Or maybe I drink a beer and think about something else.
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