Suzanne Calling

I had to go over to our storage unit to get the items I'd sold on eBay to ship them out. That unit is STUFFED to the gills, mostly with Jane's crap from Move 1.0 and then the final clear out of the apartment. I want to sell it all, but it probably won't net more than the $1500 that the Estate Sale people charge to do it. It's not a pleasant proposition, thinking about trying to eBay everything that is worthwhile, then trying to figure out a way to dump find suckers match it up with people who are interested in these items, too. Then there's the stuff too big to eBay or too cumbersome to ship. I've got the Jazzy listed on Craig's list without a single contact. It *might* sell on eBay, but I have no clue. There are a bunch of Disney prints that could sell, too, but finding boxes to ship them may not be easy. I wish there was an easy way to get it gone!

Oy, oy, headache. I've mentioned before that despite the suggestions, Jane ignored any advice given about how to prepare for her eventual demise. When we did the pre-paid burial for Mom, we'd suggested the same for her and we only got as far as the fact that she wanted her ashes spread (or at least some of them) at Walt Disney World. She never changed beneficiaries on things when Mom passed, in fact, she changed the beneficiaries TO Mom when she was 80 years old. Not wise thinking, and the topic was one she completely shut down on whenever it was brought up. Today, I had a brief but productive conversation with a lawyer and the headache I envisioned in getting things through probate is actually what I'd expected, though it's not as bad as it could be. We have to have intestate probate filings for both Jane and Mom, though it doesn't matter which order we do them in. That's good, because it's not going to be cheap. Once again, people. If you haven't...

Soapbox time. Dealing with paperwork and more paperwork. In October 2005, as my Mom was in her final days, I urged Jane and Mom to create a Living Trust, to get all their affairs in order to make it easy on anyone (us) left behind, to make sure that all their paperwork was up to date and easy to access. As my stepdad and I were sifting through writing letters, closing accounts and the things Mom never thought he'd be dealing with (he was the sick one, after all), I must have repeated it several times. Instead, nothing was in order and several policies had the beneficiaries changed to my (at the time) 82 year old mother in law. Stale dated insurance reimbursement checks were never deposited, forms requiring completion and a notary's signature never filled out or returned. Questions about whether things were handled thoroughly when Ed's sister Nancy passed away in 2005 now fill my brain. So please, for your families, make sure your paperwork is in one place. Spend a few...

Jane thinks the year is 2007. She's not kidding, either. When I visited yesterday, she never called me by name, but she did recognize me. There were issues throughout the visit, in that she said she needed me to take her into the bathroom. When I asked her if she could walk there, she said 'sure, let's find out.' Meanwhile, she was slumped over in her bed, unable to move the bed to a desired position despite the controls being within reach. She did not use her arms (which are perfectly fine) to prop her body up. She hasn't been eating. The few teeth that haven't fallen out are noticeably wiggling. The requested Whopper junior (that the nurse said she could have only due to 'quality of life' concerns, remained uneaten in that hour visit). She complained after a visitor from the nursing home left that 'everyone seems to think they're my friend.' At that point, I didn't realize that in her world, some things were very different. She...

Yet again, Ed and I worked on the apartment and got it close to empty, other than the furniture, that is. Then I went over to the hospital and found that while things are good on the surgery front (I signed consent to do it on Thursday), Jane's on a heavier antibiotic Tigacycline and she was definitely out of it for most of the visit, wanting to eat the delivered whopper junior, but not wanting the table anywhere near her. Afterwards, I found out why she seemed confused at a visitor and the things I was saying. She thinks it is 2007 and Mom is still alive. Not good. So, after the emotional weight of the day, we decided that we needed to attend first Friday in downtown Lakeland. We saw this Scamp and all agree that it looks like it's a happy car. Then another stop on the Neon Tour of Lakeland. Pizza for dinner and an early bedtime. It was good to get out for a few hours and not think about the heavy stuff that's definitely coming soon.

This marathon of dealing with le Junque de Jane is in the final segment. We spent a lot of time at the apartment today, sorting, pitching and consolidating. Ed wrapped up the rest of the tzotzkes and boxed them up and friends came to look at that monster huge entertainment center. As huge as it is, the center section is 2.6 inches too small to hold their television. However, smart cookie that our friend is, he figured out that we didn't have to install the shelf that is currently above the TV and could spread out the side units. Guess we're so wiped from dealing with this crap that we didn't consider that a possiblity! The bad news is that we have to move the stupid, heavy monstrosity one more time. The good news is that we'll never have to move it again!

Today's objective was to go spend 20 minutes dropping off paperwork for Jane's QIT account, then spend the rest of the time sorting the crap in her apartment. I would pack it in around 3, pick up Game Teen and then head home to study. Instead: Called the financial company and discovered that they required a certified check from Jane's account (oops, didn't get the PoA situation cleared up with them), proof of her pension and SSDI (okay, have those), Jane and my driver's licenses. Crap. For three days now, I've been trying to locate Jane's little plastic thingy with her cards in it and her phone. Nursing home said they didn't have it, I looked through her stuff quickly the other day. There's only one bag of belongings at the hospital and it's not in there. Visited both places, and this time, the nurse assigned to her found the property receipt from last Thursday. These items were taken away in the ER and locked up. Forty five minutes later,...

Yesterday, the nurses told us Jane appeared to be rallying, despite having a multi drug resistant bacterial infection (or MDRB) in her hip. Interestingly, the nurse I spoke to rattled off lab results as if I was a medical professional. The things I did catch were the results of various liver functions. They weren't good. Her platelets on admission were 28, now they're 34, while the average person's is over 100. Her HDLs were scary high. Whereas the nursing home was of the mind that a DNR was needed, the conversation with the nurse gave me the idea that Jane would pull through. Then, the call from the doctor arrived about a half hour later. Hematologists/Oncologists are merchants of hope. When a patient has merely 10% odds, they're the ones encouraging the patient that the treatments may work. So it was kind of interesting that this one asked me to tell him about Jane, as he hadn't gotten much information from her. After we discussed her medical history, he...

This is why we live in Florida, for February days like these. This was on our way to conducting a secret shop. Meanwhile, the rest of the day was full of sturm and drang, which I'll talk about later, but for now, we'll just look at the pretty vista, okay?

Look into my planner and see that I'm just a little busy this week: Tomorrow: Teacher meeting for Chef at 8:15. Yay. Mystery shop of yummy seafood restaurant Class at 5pm Wednesday: Clean out Jane's apartment and prepare for upcoming sale of things that she's not going to need/won't fit into the already stuffed to the gills garage Then a boatload of school work Thursday: More cleaning More schoolwork Friday: Meet with academic adviser to sign my grad school contract Have moving sale at Jane's place so that the people who work there can buy some of it More schoolwork Saturday: Finish moving sale More schoolwork Sunday: Hello? Three projects due in one class Monday (two are group assignments) Try to read for one of the other classes Write up summary report for one of those group assignments Firm up the presentation graphics for the other one. Monday: Get Goodwill to take whatever we haven't moved out of her place/turn in keys Print out the summary report Class ...

Jane is in the hospital. Again. This time, she was brought in for low platelets. They are conducting tests, but no results are back yet-except for a positive on the MRSA. So, once again, she's on a Vancomycin IV. How long she'll be there is anyone's guess. I dropped off a copy of the PoA to the business office Thursday afternoon. When I left the office, she was in the hallway, at the nurse's station a few steps away from where I stood. When I walked over, she was asking me to find out the cat's names. "I beg your pardon?" She told Ed the night before that they keep three cats in the supply closet just outside her room. She could hear them meowing. What she was telling me that day is that the cats were there to be loaned out. She wanted to 'borrow' one for a couple of hours. Add to this that she said she had TWO roommates, not one, and it's clear that things are not well. There is one roommate. There are no cats. But the bad part is t...

PSA for the day: If you're getting a Power of Attorney with two named attorneys in fact, list them as person A OR person B. If you list them with AND between them, most banks will not take the paperwork. This means we have to do another PoA to switch over the bank accounts. This is not too big a deal. I have complete access to the account already. The main concern was getting the bank statements for Medicaid, then verifying that the funds are redirected to the holding account for the nursing home. It does have to be done to make any changes, though. There was a list of items that need to be provided by the 28th. The only two left are a copy of the deed to the house and the title to the car. I am pretty sure we took those for safekeeping back in October, but we put them in a place so safe, it'll take some digging tomorrow to find them. That part was easy. The hard thing was seeing Jane and her insisting that they're keeping three cats in the closet outside her bedro...

As mentioned many times over the years, Jane did not take care of herself. Many of her issues would be minor annoyances for the average person, but for her, they were out of her control. Knowing what I know now, I chalk a lot of it up to her cognitive deficits that my mother in law hid from everyone, as well as the fact that Jane was babied to a great extent for most of her life. In the 15 months since my Mother in law passed away, these deficits have come to a head on more than a few occasions. It got to the point that anything Jane told me, I'd go back and verify, because it didn't sound right. Last week, she asked for her hospital bed, as the nursing home has her in a crank style bed that cannot be adjusted by the patient. A few weeks ago, a guy came to the door of our house looking for Jane. I'd told him she didn't live here, that she'd moved and gave him the address. His parting question "Does she still have the hospital bed?" confused me. So ...

The situation unfolding before us is a sad one. Despite seeing the writing on the wall for years and trying to offer help, it sucks when what you knew would eventually happen is staring you in the face. Jane spends a lot of her day in a fog or sleeping. She knows it and mentioned it to the social worker. Today, the woman told me that she's asked Jane to make some end-of-life decisions. Living Wills Advanced Directives Do Not Resuscitate orders It's not something you really expect to encounter with a 58 year old woman who has health issues that (in anyone else) could be easily managed. She has the window side of the room she's been assigned to. This means there is no room for the requested dresser, a table to put the requested television on and no place to put the various knick knacks she wanted from the apartment. Without these things, the terminal decline I've noticed will happen far more rapidly. Even the social worker agrees that Jane is not doing well. As wit...

Apparently, if I don't answer my phone quick enough for someone's liking, I get five calls in about two hours. Was someone dying? No. Was a house on fire? No. Was someone bleeding to death? No. Were bathroom ninjas about to attack? No. (but the cat does stand watch for those.) Yeah, five calls. One that had 30 seconds of silence and a "Hi Sweetie, it's me". Three that had varying amounts of silence and the last one was a peeved "Nevermind. I'll talk to you tomorrow." I was on campus, assisting at a graduate event that's kind of important to my future plans. A lesson was learned a while back with her-turn your ringer off if you're doing anything slightly important. Of course, as soon as I was done, I found the procession of messages and called back as I walked to the car. She answered, I asked what was going on. She copped a bit of an attitude until I said I was at school. "Oh, Sorry." Seems she's been moved to he...

Ed received a phone call this morning. Jane has decided that she will move to skilled care. He had a conversation with her, explaining how we've felt the past year and getting it off his chest. The decision has been made, but how to make it happen? She didn't talk about that. I think she has assumed, once again, that we'll just take the ball and run with it. She probably expects us to deal with her apartment complex, while they will only deal with her. We'll know more once A calls us on Monday. In the meantime, Ed called Jane back and left a message, asking her how she was handling things. In the short run, this will be a royal pain in the ass. Once she's moved in, though, there won't be the worry that someone from the complex is going to call to tell us she's in the hospital again...

After yesterday's confusion, I took the bull by the horns and called the business office at Jane's rehab. I had a very pleasant conversation with the staffer that I've been playing phone tag with all week. Ultimately, we're very much on the same page that Jane should not go home, she couldn't live independently prior to the hip fracture and she certainly isn't capable of doing so now. She asked if I could head up there and the two of us could talk with Jane about future plans, with her hope that my intervention might get Jane to agree to apply for Medicaid. As I was five minutes away, that request was quickly met. I warned her that anything I say, Jane takes as me being the mommy bossing her around and goes directly against it and also explained a little more of what happened back in October to change Jane's mind from the positive view of skilled care to her going to an even less restrictive environment. Once there, I had a slightly interesting time with...

Today, I attended one of the seminars put on by the Graduate school for new students. The topic? Choosing a mentor and deciding on a thesis/dissertation topic. I had the second part, but not the first, so I went over to gain some insights. The presenter was expert and personable. He must be really good with faces, because he mentioned where he'd seen most of the people in attendance in specific presentations he'd lead before. It was nice to get to ask questions throughout, thanks to the small group size. My big concern was how the heck do I pick a mentor when my plans include study in two separate departments? Well, the answer is that a doctoral candidate should have several mentors. He also dispelled the myth that a mentor has to be the supreme authority in your research area. As long as the dissertation committee or mentor has an expert in that discipline, it should be good. This was very relieving. As I begin looking at PhD. programs, the reality that there is ver...

Which is to say, it's nice, but it won't last. Somehow, the social worker (miracle worker, more like) appealed to her director, who appealed to the director of the rehabilitation center. Jane was given seven days (and seven days only, Vasily) to get as much therapy in before being sent home. Jane neglected to inform us of that tidbit when she left messages for me and Ed and actually got to talk to Betsy live. Jane was informed repeatedly that she has to work her ass off in that short period of time she gets. The social worker also told her that she has to stay out of the hospital for 60 days or Medicare won't pay and that honestly, she is incapable of living on her own and should consider a skilled nursing facility. Gee, this is the same thing she was told by a different social worker in October. What I really liked about this one is that she actually went back and looked through the notes and made the phone calls to get the big picture, even calling Jane's old ass...

One of the things I don't like about our house (there are several) is that the master bedroom and bath have a large archway from one room to the other. Neither Ed or I is a terribly light sleeper, but if one person turns on the light in there at night, the other will wake up. So, it started last night. I wanted to take a shower, but Ed was gathering stuff to do laundry. Another thing I hate is that the hot water heater might be set at 95% maximum temperature water, so I won't bathe if other water is being used-since it's already about 40 degrees cooler than I like for showering (if I come out of the shower with bright pink skin, I am happy). I thought I'd be nice and switch the laundry around, grab a towel and head into the shower-except that he never actually started the wash. Plans of going to bed at a decent hour were scrubbed. I showered, started laundry, then stayed up to put those clothes in the dryer because dude, laundry stinks if you let it sit overnight...