Issues of the Elderly 

by Nita Holstine

When dad died last September, I was better prepared than otherwise. Since then, I have discovered how bad a shape his affairs were left in. He had an insurance police with Myrtle left as beneficiary. She died probably 10 years ago. They now want my brother's address. One of these days, I will call him and leave a message for him to contact them. Doubt that he will but it matters not at all. He wouldn't return my calls telling him that dad had died. No word since.

I did know what I needed to deal with the funeral home folks and though they won't be as nice as if you were fixing to pay them thousands of dollars, we did get things done and finished. A sad time to say the least. I was so very glad that the details were paid for and there were few people to demand money. 

The bills to dad still come in but I can now throw them away or send them back. When Steve would get dad to do a credit check, it would open up a new credit card which he would promptly max out. Now all those places want their money. Steve and Gregg both have disappeared and I've not heard from them again. When they knew there was no money coming to them, they were gone. Gregg has 6 children and is hiding out to keep from ever paying child support. Somehow, he had the notion that all he had to do was wait until they'd all turned 18. Doesn't work that way, his debt will haunt him to the grave. And so many children who will know only that their father is a lousy idiot.

Arlene Correll sent me a link to go an read an article about how to plan an $800 funeral. Was such a thing possible? Read it and see if it is practical to your needs. It isn't really a topic the older family member wants to talk about much less be saying that they want you to do all these particular things once they are gone. When stepmother Zella died, she had a dozen life insurance policies. They paid for all her expenses just as she had wished. Everything that dad has on himself or was left with has big dollar loans attached. They are all wanting payment and there is nothing for any of them. The stepsons had taken out loans that the folks did not even know about. Until dad died, I will not know for sure if evil Greg was able to talk dad into selling his plot beside my mother to get money for Greg.  

With the VA approval for the Medicaid payments, we are now able to put money aside for dad's final needs. We can tend to his few current needs and start to accumulate a fund to go to paying for what will be necessary. 

HOW TO PLAN THE $800 FUNERAL, CLICK HERE. Thank you Arlene! You have given me some peace of mind.

It's been over a year since Zella died and in some ways it seems like five or ten and sometimes maybe only a few months. After dad got settled into the nursing home, he was fine. If he is even wobbling, there was someone along when ever he went for a walk just in case he needs help.

When he first checked into the "living center" the administrator asked him if he didn't just want to go on to heaven if he were having major problems. Scared him, "Oh no, you call for help and get all the rescue help you can get." That's how he made it to the ripe age of now 87. He doesn't want to let go. Much of the time he is confused and a bit disoriented. He doesn't remember at all being in his apartment. He confuses my mother with Myrtle or Zella at times. 

There was a day when he was still in the old house. Stupid step son had just left from giving him grief. He took every dime dad had, made him sign a blank check and took all the food out of the kitchen. He'd tried to cash a check for more than dad had in the bank and had to come back and get another check. He didn't really tear up the first check only waited until his Social Security check was in the bank and ran it back through. Dad being frail could not stand up to the bully and gave him what ever it took to make him go away. He went into a state of panic where he could not breathe. Call 911? No, he calls me but what I hear is him hyperventilating so I tell him to breath slow and deep. He says he has to breath fast, he cannot get any air. I repeated that he was hyperventilating and to just slow down and breath slowly in and out. Relax and keep breathing slow. Of course, I thought he'd already called for help but by this time, he is fine. Breathing well and feeling better than ever. Except that he was broke and no money for food or medicine for the rest of the month. First, we started with filing a report of abuse with the Adult Protective Services. Well unless one can prove something, one can only file a report. Their only advice is to move the person out of reach of the abuser. That took applying for an assisted living apartment and making sure evil stepson Greg could not get his next SS check. The post office never did forward his mail until long after he'd moved. This was despite repeated assurance that the change had indeed been made. It wasn't until he was moved into the nursing home that his checks were sent to the new address; seems the Social Security system does not allow the post office to forward checks. They believe that it would allow for someone to keep getting the check after the recipient had died. 

One of my earlier entries in this section had noted how dad did not have the money for his prescribed medications. The heart medication and another for his irregular heartbeat. I had even asked Arlene Correll and she gave us some good suggestions for getting help. In fact, dad asked his doctor and was given several months of free samples. I guess he was hoping there was an easy way to just get ALL meds for free just to keep greedy son out of such funds. It wasn't until Randy started handling his funds that we realized he had plenty of money. Even with paying rent on an apartment, his meds, groceries and a few other supplies. He bought a microwave. But the problem by that time was that he'd been on a walker for quite a while despite what his doctor was telling him. Dad wouldn't do any exercise; the most I would get when I encouraged him to walk up and down the hallways was that he would fall and that "it hurts." He wanted me to not just fix all his meals, he wanted  me to heat them and put them in front of him. He would grab a snack rather than to heat up meat and veggies. Then he would not like what I had fixed. He wanted no salt but he wanted it to taste good. He wouldn't keep a salt shaker in his house, ever that I remember the many years. Yet his favorite foods were loaded with salt. 

Filing reports of abuse did little except to have a report on hand just in case it got worse but there was a time just before we got dad out of the old house. It was a day when dad called me to say that Greg was there and demanding money. That afternoon, Randy had gone by his house and dad gave him his check book so there was dad telling evil Greg that he was no longer in charge of his money. So, here's Greg grabbing the phone from dad to tell me "we'd better get back there right NOW and give him some MONEY and hurry up." I hung up and called the police number for that city. You cannot call 911 when you live 25 miles away. You'll get your own emergency service. I get the attitude of yeah okay sure, we'll go but it sounds like just a lot of words. So, the police get there and Greg is trying to keep dad from talking to the police. They go to talk to Greg's friend and the guy goes out the back door and down the alley. Turns out he had warrants out and drugs on him. 

We had dad out within the week. I had called the apartment complex and dad's DHS caseworker and they were happy to hurry up the application. What a nightmare. For another month, Greg's girlfriend would call begging that dad call them, they were desperate for money. Mr. Greg fellow cannot work; seems he has at least six kids and if he got a job, the state welfare folks would take half his wages and that just wouldn't leave him enough money. So, why bother just get girlfriend to get a job and support him. Seems he had an incident where he attacked his ex's new boyfriend and was to pay to stay out of jail but he got behind and needed big money. So it was our fault he had to go into hiding. 

This past December it was one year since Zella had died. She had been in the hospital for about 3 months and was not getting any better. Within the previous six months, Greg had started his own business with help from mom and dad. He got them to sign the house as collateral to get him a big truck rig. He wasn't in business for 2 months before he'd maxed out all their phones, not just his new cell phone. They lost the business phone they'd had for over 30 years and their efforts to raise and sell more of their registered puppies landed them in trouble with the city and the dogs were all taken away. No money income there. About this time, Greg discovered the credit cards. The on-line emails were offering "a free credit check." It required that you apply for their credit card but yes indeed, they sure would give you a free credit report. Zella was beginning to see that nothing they could give Greg would be enough for him. He wouldn't get a job of any kind; he would just demand more money from them. When Zel went into the nursing home, Greg demanded that she give him power of attorney so he could cash her social security check. He demanded that she sign a card saying that if she stopped breathing or her heart stopped, they not try to revive her. Dad wouldn't allow it; he knew what was going on and made sure the doctor and hospital understood what was going on. There was one occasion where Greg stormed into the nursing home office demanding that they just give him mom's power of attorney. They said no and were fixing to call the police when he left. Dad wouldn't allow her to sign the card even if she could have and had to go to the doctor and administrator at the nursing home for their cooperation. She made no effort to eat or make improvements; Greg was always handy to discourage any possible hope. As her organs begin to die, she was soon gone. 

By the looks of the bills and statements that keep coming, they maxed out 8 credit cards each to the tune of $12,000 to $25,000 each. Dad has one life insurance policy that is suppose to pay out an amount less than $2,000 when he dies but by the looks of the loan from the same company, they want payments now. I doubt they'll want to pay out anything when the times does come. It is the same with the VA, another outstanding loan. Since we've done the VA application for benefits, they have sent no more statements. The house was repossessed. The car was repossessed and all the utilities turned off. The notices and registered letter notices go unanswered. He can't get there folks. He has no money at all.

Somehow Greg had thought that when his mom died, my dad would get her social security check. He was left with all of her debts how else would he pay off the bills. But of course, it was not true. He was down to his own check and that was all. He could pay none of the mountain of credit obligations. So Greg was left with taking every penny he could get from dad as soon as his Social Security check came in each month. When Food Bank brought dad a box, there was Greg to take whatever Greg wanted. The only thing dad got to keep was the Meals on Wheels we got started just before we got him out of the old house. 

The only monies that dad got from any of the insurance policies Zella had were used to pay the funeral expenses. I did find another policy that both the sons could have fought over but why ask for more headache for us? I hope to never hear from the greedy one or the one who has just finished serving 9 years in prison for rape. He maxed out his mom's first 3 credit cards just buying him lawyers and more lawyers. He was not allowed to leave for him mother's funeral but the parole board would not accept that my dad no longer had a home for him to be released to live in. As soon as Steve realized that dad wasn't getting but a few dollars every month for his own wants, he disappeared and has not been back. He was just the sweet talker of the two and could make dad want to do just anything at all for the kid. 

Randy's dad was dying from cancer for almost ten years. Over that time, Lady R never let a day go by that she did not let dad know that he was using up all "her" insurance money. She would need every penny when he died. She made life a living hell for dad and would use names like stinky instead of helping and being supportive when there was the need. 

There was a day in the ICU when dad's kidneys had shut down he was near screaming in pain. The screams became "please let me die." Heartbreaking? You know it but I made Randy leave the area. I held dad's hand and prayed like the devil was standing in the same room. She was wanting the end to be near I am sure. The Lord's Prayer is one that is known by all and remembered when all the words are necessary. Within a minute, the functions has begun again and his extreme pain was relieved. He slipped off to sleep most peacefully. It was only a matter of weeks later that they were on the way to the weekly chemotherapy when he had a major heart attack. The sheriff's deputy delivered the message to our little house but when we arrived at the hospital, the rudest nurse on the planet Earth let us know in short words that dad was given no extra measures and was of course, dead. How cruel and without any concern or compassion our modern nurses have become. Not everyone in the family knows about such agreements.

If mom had put dad in a nursing home and let him die a natural death reviving him when necessary, he might have gone on another few years but that would use up her money. She would not have wanted to visit.

My dad says he loves his spot at the Living Center. He often does not have the strength to stand up by himself or do it alone but he enjoys the meals, the music and church services. I have found his old group from the last church they attended and hope to at least give them his new address and see if they make occasional visits. He'd sure like that. 

Much of my own attitude toward growing old and allowing the living ones to live in a nursing facility came from working in such places. From seeing the not even old people who had become mentally disabled to the point they required help with everyday simple chores. The family would stick them away with all the care they could need and go on about their lives. The family would visit for a few years but then they would not bother since the patient was not responding or recognizing them in any way. My dad has now decided that he has diabetes and won't eat his sweet cookies and snacks we'd brought him. Self-diagnosis again but I will buy him something he loves, like pudding cups- his favorite. I don't ask anymore why he doesn't call. I don't ask if he remembers when I was last to see him. I am pretty sure he recognizes me but many things he did not remember so I don't ask anymore. Just live for today and have a nice visit. A few hugs and to say, I Love You. 

On this most recent visit I took a banner with copies of photos and names and notes of his great grandkids. Something he can show off and not have to remember their names. He thinks he needs a color TV but I think if he really wanted one, he'd buy it. He gets plenty in allowance and has nothing else to buy. I will buy him a collection of classical music I think he will like. His roommate has a TV and dad has to use his headphones just to not hear that TV. We gave him a big old one when he was in his apartment but he has no space now at all. 

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07-16-03

  It seems a year or more since I last wrote here. Dad got worse so fast. He started falling, he'd call me and I'd have to call the city police to go and pick him up. He didn't get hurt but it made us realize he couldn't be on his own anymore even in a nice clean apartment. He wasn't taking baths and he wasn't always eating. He'd not feel like cooking and he'd just grab a snack and eat on the bed. 

  There are plenty of programs to help with his cleaning and fix his meals but the waiting list is about two years long even now. So, it was the best thing to get him into a nursing facility. They can be there to help 24/7. All his meals are fixed for him and he can even keep snacks in his room. He's not really happy with his roommate but he's getting used to it. 

  A note of caution if you ever have to go through this type of ordeal, call the State Human Services Agency. Don't believe the technical talk that the nursing home says, they have their own interests at heart. Get the true legal story and go with that. Get the Power of Attorney as advised, "while you still can." That means while they are still of a stable mind and rational. Dad doesn't remember much from one day to the next. I think he's forgetting to call me. But it's pretty regular so I can't complain. We sure cannot afford to get him a private phone. He's got too many unpaid bills that won't get paid. Stupid step son will try to get him moved out and back into the nasty old house. He just wants dad's SS check. All toward not working at a job. Would a smart person take the word of a con artist, rapist? I think not.

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03-03-03

  Sure seems a long time since the mid-December posting just below this. What a time it has been. Turns out that dad didn't have money for his medication because he was "having" to give his step son all the money he had. He was doing with out his medications as well as paying for his mortgage, car, insurance, utilities. Stepson did this bully routine where they would starve if he wasn't given money. He even pulled the "tear up this check, it isn't enough... write one for more." You guessed it. He didn't tear up the check, he dropped scrap paper and cashed both checks as soon as he could. Legally, dad was capable of making his own decisions. That he was talked into something that was very bad and very stupid, well, that was his own fault.

  After all the returned checks were picked up and an assisted apartment was found, his Social Security check just about covers everything. But no bully stepson to "feed." 

  Many services are available but after applying, there is a waiting list that may take many months. The Human Resources Dept has a program that provides services by an aide that comes in every day to check and see how things are, to do any cleaning or cooking as needed. For now, I am washing dishes on Saturday mornings and bringing home the laundry since the laundry is 75 cents for wash and dryer load. A bit steep for me to use very often. 

  We found lots of handy storage containers that can go from the freezer to the microwave and wash up really well. I also found some drink bottles for keeping milk and juices ready to drink. His walker had been a problem for carrying food from the kitchen to the bed; not 15 feet but not easy with your hands full. We found a wire basket at the dollar store and Randy wired it to the walker. It is deep enough to keep food from spilling and the bottles are much easier than an unopened cup or glass. 

  I guess of all the things that could be said, no one should just stand back and allow such things to continue. It was only when dad agreed that the only way he could survive was to not be in control of his money. He gave it up to Randy so he could tell evil stepson that he had no money. He finds he is so much happier not having to worry about the money. He can be confident that he will have a little left at the end of the month and not be flat broke. I don't mind the cooking and cleaning; they are a minor chore and the least I can do for my dad.  

12-17-02

  Recently, my dad had mentioned that he was not able to keep taking his allergy medicine. He could not afford it and to also take his blood thinner which was necessary. 

  I did some looking around and asking around to see what I could find that would actually work. I asked our one and only Arlene Correll. Thought I'd mention the problem, just in case she had some wisdom to share. Sure enough, she wrote right back to say that he should talk to his doctor, the one that prescribed the allergy medicine. He did right away and the doctor was upset that dad had stopped taking the prescription but set up a plan where he could start getting free rx's and sent him home with lots of free samples. Thank you Arlene, what a relief.

  http://www.seniorresource.com/ezine.htm

  You don't have to be a senior yet to find this information most useful. The humor is so cool. This is the newsletter that directed me where to report the Nigerian scam emails. Some of the scam letters were directed toward older women and others were aimed at older men. They all portrayed a really sad story; send money.  I can always find something I didn't know. Free newsletter. Well worth the effort of signing up.
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