Spoke to my father last night. My parents are living in an independent living facility. They moved back in 2014, and shortly after sold the house that was hoarded. They didn't sell the house themselves, but had help from an estate planning attorney appointed financial planner. I think if it would have been up to them they would have stayed in the hoarding house to the end.
Pulling Teeth
When I call my father, he immediately lets me know that he is the middle of something. This time he was in the middle of a lecture by a children's author talking about stories.
He joked, saying "You know I'm one of only 3 men in this place, and there are another 70 women."
Otherwise, he told me that everything is going great.
"Have you been to the doctor lately?" I asked.
"Yes I have an appointment this afternoon," he said.
He talked about the weather, the upcoming presidential elections, and some activities in their independent living facility.
"So everything is good," I said.
"Well," he sighed, "I did have another episode."
"Sleepwalking?" I asked.
"No, I was in the lobby reading a newspaper and I seemed to pass out."
"You fell asleep while you were reading?"
"No, they think I might have had a minor seizure or something."
"Well did you go to the doctor since then?"
"Yes I'm going today, but I was looked at."
"When?"
"In the ambulance."
"What ambulance?"
"After I passed out the people in the lobby called an ambulance."
"Were you aware, were you awake then?"
"Yes, of course, um, I think so."
Mom's Update
He reassured me that he was doing good now.
"So how is Mom," I asked again.
"Well," he hesitated, "I guess fine."
"How fine? Does she show resentment towards you?"
"Yes, all the time."
"About anything in particular?"
"No, she is just constantly berating me, and she sees things that aren't there. She says she hears people in our living room, or a cat in the kitchen. But there's nothing."
"She's still going to the other nursing home for activities twice a week?"
"Yes, she goes by herself. I need the break."
"Are you able to relax?"
"Yes."
"Does she have any preferences?"
"She says that she'd like to live near you. But that is completely out of the question, we aren't leaving this city."
"Ok."
"She will probably be moving."
"Moving where?"
"To the nursing home that she visits twice a week."
"To live there permanently?"
"Yes," he answered.
"What is the living conditions like over there?"
"Oh, wonderful, I am having a great time."
"No," I snapped, "I mean in the nursing home where Mom will go. Will she have her own room, or be with a roommate?"
"I don't know," he said.
"When will she go?"
"I don't know."
"What does she think about this?"
"She doesn't know. The financial planner is organizing this."
So my father will soon by one of three men with over 70 senior ladies around him, and will only see his wife once a week.
The financial planner had warned me that my mother was starting to be a handful. Next update.
Wow.
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