(no subject)
While I was in Houston, Dad got a notice that Mom was denied medicaid. At $4500 a month the nursing home would break anyone. I told him not to worry; we could fix this. The notice came on Saturday and it was Wednesday before we could meet with the case worker. Dad paced and worried. Sometimes crying. It gets really frustrating because I told him we could fix it. It was just a matter of getting rid of money. The numbers medicaid was working with were $22,000 more than was in the checking at that point. We got it fixed.
Then last week on Wednesday the case worker called and said she wanted a May 31 statement from the bank. Which was really to verify that the receipts we gave her were true and not something made up. She called me at the office and told me what was needed. I had to call dad and ask him to get a statement from his bank. Well, I could see that wasn't going to happen so i got his bankers name and phone number and his ssn (he said he had problems seeing his account number). Anyway the banker was really sweet and I had talked to her when I was over there. She pulled a screen print of the account, printed it on bank stationery, signed and faxed it. Well, he has been worrying since then whether she got the statement and whether it was given a final approval. That notice came in this past saturday.
Now he is trying to send the information to me via email. It tells him what he needs to do about the personal accounts, etc. I suggested that he go to Kinkos and have them scan the docs and email them to my gmail account. Well, he went to the neighbors. It was supposed to come today. Kinkos would have done it and timely cause that is their business but he went to a neighbor instead. They have a life and it isn't as important to them as it is to him.
He is in a dither cause I didn't get the email. "you need to turn on your computer when you get home and check." The concrete guy was supposed to come today and finish up some work on the drive and sidewalk. He called instead. Dither, dither, dither. I tried to tell him to calm down. It isn't a life ending situation and he was going to give himself a heart attack. That does no good. Phil said he has the same situation with his mother. He tells her what needs to be done but she just does whatever she thinks is best.After all she is the 'adult'.
If this is what old age is all about, then I don't want to go there. The golden years just aren't what folks say they are. And I keep thinking when I'm his age I won't have a child to help me out. We will be all alone. Sucks!
Okay. I'm a little down. Can't make him listen or understand.
I was so tired when I went to the office today. Didn't sleep well over the weekend. One of those situations where you are so tired you can't sleep. Saturday night/Sunday morn I woke at 2:30. Tossed and turned and finally turned on my bedside lamp and read a while. And finally went back to sleep. At 3:58am the phone rang. It was my fil's nursing home. They had found him sitting on the floor in his room. He wasn't hurt. Hadn't fallen. But they felt they needed to call and let us know. I've turned off the ringer on the bedside phone but the sound from the downstairs phone woke me. Phil slept thru it. If he isn't hurt, why do they feel they have to call at such an ungodly hour. That certainly could have waited until 7 or 8 am. Well I didn't go back to sleep after that call.
Got into the office this morning and my desk, computer, etc had all been moved. And nothing was connected. I have a small office that I share with my supervisor and the decision was made that we could fit another person in the room using the wonderful grey walls. It took a couple of hours to get things situated and everything reconnected. Then the file cabinets that were put in my office had to be moved cause they weren't mine and my files needed to be moved in. My space is hardly big enough to walk thru. A crab like move is the best to get around.
Guess I'm just tired and out of sorts. I want my father to act like an adult. He's old but he ought to remember how to care for himself at least a little. It's a problem cause he didn't protect us while we were growing up and now we have to care for him. Shit.
Gritch, gritch, gritch. A family word that is a combo of gripe and bitch. Works.
It will get better but I'm just tired of it all!
Then last week on Wednesday the case worker called and said she wanted a May 31 statement from the bank. Which was really to verify that the receipts we gave her were true and not something made up. She called me at the office and told me what was needed. I had to call dad and ask him to get a statement from his bank. Well, I could see that wasn't going to happen so i got his bankers name and phone number and his ssn (he said he had problems seeing his account number). Anyway the banker was really sweet and I had talked to her when I was over there. She pulled a screen print of the account, printed it on bank stationery, signed and faxed it. Well, he has been worrying since then whether she got the statement and whether it was given a final approval. That notice came in this past saturday.
Now he is trying to send the information to me via email. It tells him what he needs to do about the personal accounts, etc. I suggested that he go to Kinkos and have them scan the docs and email them to my gmail account. Well, he went to the neighbors. It was supposed to come today. Kinkos would have done it and timely cause that is their business but he went to a neighbor instead. They have a life and it isn't as important to them as it is to him.
He is in a dither cause I didn't get the email. "you need to turn on your computer when you get home and check." The concrete guy was supposed to come today and finish up some work on the drive and sidewalk. He called instead. Dither, dither, dither. I tried to tell him to calm down. It isn't a life ending situation and he was going to give himself a heart attack. That does no good. Phil said he has the same situation with his mother. He tells her what needs to be done but she just does whatever she thinks is best.After all she is the 'adult'.
If this is what old age is all about, then I don't want to go there. The golden years just aren't what folks say they are. And I keep thinking when I'm his age I won't have a child to help me out. We will be all alone. Sucks!
Okay. I'm a little down. Can't make him listen or understand.
I was so tired when I went to the office today. Didn't sleep well over the weekend. One of those situations where you are so tired you can't sleep. Saturday night/Sunday morn I woke at 2:30. Tossed and turned and finally turned on my bedside lamp and read a while. And finally went back to sleep. At 3:58am the phone rang. It was my fil's nursing home. They had found him sitting on the floor in his room. He wasn't hurt. Hadn't fallen. But they felt they needed to call and let us know. I've turned off the ringer on the bedside phone but the sound from the downstairs phone woke me. Phil slept thru it. If he isn't hurt, why do they feel they have to call at such an ungodly hour. That certainly could have waited until 7 or 8 am. Well I didn't go back to sleep after that call.
Got into the office this morning and my desk, computer, etc had all been moved. And nothing was connected. I have a small office that I share with my supervisor and the decision was made that we could fit another person in the room using the wonderful grey walls. It took a couple of hours to get things situated and everything reconnected. Then the file cabinets that were put in my office had to be moved cause they weren't mine and my files needed to be moved in. My space is hardly big enough to walk thru. A crab like move is the best to get around.
Guess I'm just tired and out of sorts. I want my father to act like an adult. He's old but he ought to remember how to care for himself at least a little. It's a problem cause he didn't protect us while we were growing up and now we have to care for him. Shit.
Gritch, gritch, gritch. A family word that is a combo of gripe and bitch. Works.
It will get better but I'm just tired of it all!