Adrift

In the past three weeks, Mom answered her phone for me just once.

It was a short conversation, as I was on my cell phone instead of Skype, and was sitting on the upper observation deck of the dock at the Ferry Building in San Francisco. She told me that "people" were trying to convince her to move to an assisted-living facility, and she said, "But I'm not going to, and that's that."

What she didn't tell me was that the Adult Protective Services caseworker had issued an ultimatum and given her three choices: 24/7 live-in care provider in her home, going to a personal care boarding home with my sister (so that they could stay together), or my sister going to a group home where she would have adequate round the clock care. (APS emailed me to let me know, as Ma thinks she can hide what is going on and deal with it all herself.)

Last week I wrote a letter to a mutual friend, asking him to try to remove the pistols from Ma's house. It's within my rights to do so, as Power of Attorney for her. Yesterday I talked to him, and he told me he was able to get the pistol from her desk drawer (where she'd disturbingly moved it from its former place on a high shelf in the pantry) and it was now locked in his gun cabinet.

Also yesterday, APS asked me to fax them my document showing that I have Power of Attorney over Mom, so that they can see where I might be able to help them.

Indeed, according to the document, I could have Mom placed in a care facility, no matter what she wants. But that would, at this time, be rash. Mom can take care of herself, still -- but she can't still take care of my sister. And my POA has no authority over my sister. I can voice my opinion (and that would be that Jan go to the group home -- my God, she might even end up having nice people around her) but that is all.

The Pistol-Mover told me that Mom is getting really angry that I am in touch with the caseworkers -- and him -- and in her increasing confusion, can't figure out how I'm getting information about her. She's pissed, and the disease just accentuates her lifelong penchant for getting really nasty when she doesn't "win."

And I don't think there is any way she can win this one.

My creative flow is non-existent. I just feel like I'm waiting for the phone to ring, and know beforehand it's going to be sad news.