Sunday, December 16, 2007

Don't obsess... don't obsess... don't obsess..

My sis says I need to give myself a break. I tend to obsess (yep, so true). If insurer pays or doesn't, just don't sweat it.

At my job, I'm a high-performing program manager. I manage complex programs/projects with lots of moving parts. Yes, I get stressed, but I handle it.

Yet this has got me flummoxed. You should see my own desk at home. Eeks. Too bad I'm not so good at applying work skills inside my own home.

I fantasize of a well-ordered, simpler life. Where things are in their places, where things get done on time. Where piles don't exist and to-do lists are short and quickly dispatched.

Yeah, right.

(of course, you KNOW that on my other screen, I am researching ADLs. groan)

don't obsess.... don't obsess... don't obsess... (that's my new obsession. haha)

Saturday, December 15, 2007

arrggghh - the Paperwork Monster...

Over the last months, I have been working at moving all her bills and business contacts over to her new address, and, autopayments over to her new bank accounts. It's unbelievably frustrating.

There are her phone bills (former home bill, new home phone bill, long distance, and mobile). Her internet service provider - both ending the old one, and setting up and paying for the new one. Numerous medical insurers, as well as doctors, hospitals, both in her former address and her new location. Change social security payments and providers and payees. Change investment accounts.

There is just the matter of finding out all those accounts. When I took over for her, she had proudly delivered her box of important papers - but, I found that she stopped filing in about 2004. She also had sheaves of papers scattered around in corners and piles, evidence of important contacts but all in a muddle. Some I discovered when looking at her old bank account, and finding auto-deductions for services.

Also, since I'm not HER, I am required, appropriately, to provide proof that I can speak for her. Finally, one at a time, I am getting my name on her account, but I doubt if I'm halfway through the list.

Just as an example - I was getting her Medicare prescription drug coverage plan changed to the new address, and, changed to her new bank. I called several times, then spent 45 minutes slowly and meticulously giving someone all her information. That person gave me a case number, then needed to transfer me to a licensed agent. I got transferred to the wrong place, then got disconnected. AARRGGHH. But I thought, no problem, I have a case number and can pick up with relative ease. However, when I called back and finally got through to a licensed agent for our state, there was none of the information I'd provided that was included in the case number. I spent another HOUR on that phone call. Two hours total. During work hours. So, I had to work until 11 that night to make up for the time lost.

Today I work on applying for benefits from her long-term-care insurance. I'd sent out sections to her physician and her Assisted Living facility. I'm nervous because I found paperwork that her former doctor had filled out, saying that she had no problem with any of the "ADLs" (activities of daily living - continence, dressing, transferring, etc) which could mean a denial of the application for benefits. However, that doctor never was informed about the fact that she has frequent continence problems, she leaves poop on her toilet seat, she started fires when she prepared her own meals, and had frequent low-blood-sugar episodes because in her independent-living situation, she snacked constantly instead of good meals. And, with her existing care in Assisted Living housing, she no longer has some of those problems (no kitchen fires since she has no kitchen; fewer medical emergencies because she takes her meds regularly with help of the staff). I will submit the application but I'm concerned that her old doctor's opinion may give the insurer a reason to deny the claim.

Then there is the other to-do list:
  • get a handicapped placard so that when we go out, she can walk less.
  • get her an identification card so that when she flies or writes checks, she has local ID.
  • pick up an ink cartridge for her printer.
  • bring hammer and nails to her apartment to put up the clock.
  • order the lighted magnifier on a stand.
  • order her diabetic supplies.
  • every weekend, go over and set out her pills.
  • get stuff out of storage that may freeze, or, that she may need.
AND - groan - in a week or two she will move to a new apartment, a 1-bedroom. And I will need to change ALL the addresses again. And, that will create a new to-do list of emptying out storage and stopping that payment. And putting up pictures and putting things away.

I feel overwhelmed. I have my own challenges - we just found that our own credit card was being used fraudulently in Florida, so we had to cancel and get new ones. And for my OWN bills with autopay, I must go thru them again and change the card#. And our own office is piled high with disorganized papers and work we're trying to do. We have our own printer that needs fixing. Seems everywhere I look there is a to-do list. And my job... very highly stressful. Eeks indeed.

Well, like eating an elephant, I guess I'll just do it one bite at a time. And let the rest of the work just wait until I can get to it. We are warm and she is cared for and life will go on.

Friday, December 7, 2007

So, life has settled mostly into a routine at this point. On weekends, I set out her pills for the week. I usually take her out shopping once a week. During the week, I stop by after work about 4 days, and call daily. I take her to some of her doctor's appointments, though she does have rides from the center as well.

There are still tasks to be done but they are not time-critical. I need to go to a lawyer to see what papers need to be updated. Get her an identification card. Change some auto-payments to her new bank account. File insurance papers. Pay her bills. Sort through her storage unit to find what needs to be brought in from the cold, what needs to be moved to the adult family who is designated to receive her excess items. Move things into her apartment. There are more, but those are the routine.

Less drama. More routine. Just a relentless awareness of her needs.
Wow - I missed all of November! But I'm back... and things have quieted down for the most part.

There was the explosion in Target store - an outing with my sister and our husbands and Mom. Mom had been rude, snipey, especially to me. I just gritted my teeth over and over. Finally, in Target, she literally yelled, nastily, and I walked away. I kept trying to come back calmed down, but I then had to walk away again (she was oblivious, as the jewelry counter person was adjusting a watchband). Finally, I came back, and I told her (heatedly but controlled and quiet) that she could NOT talk to me that way. That I deserved better. That everyone was absolutely bending over backwards FOR HER, and she needed to treat others with respect and kindness, not like a spoiled child. She was shocked, and responded OK. We went back to my sister's house, and talked further. Since then, she has occasionally been snipey, but she has quickly adjusted or apologized.

She is still in her studio apartment in Assisted Living. She was offered a one-bedroom unit which has a nice view though not as ideal as her present one. She told them she would take it - then debated changing her mind. She asked for me to help with the decision, but I refused to take a stand, I just talked through the options with her.

Still, she tells my sister: "Sometimes I feel like a pawn, without any decisions of my own. Nancy is so capable and so strong willed ( I raised her?) that I can't remember that I do have an opinion, too." Fortunately, my sister understands what's happening, and doesn't buy it. Mom as victim. Mom as helpless. Hmmm not so much.

Frustrating too is this helpless role she has taken. It's particularly frustrating because she chooses to be helpless - she gives up on attempting anything that would challenge her. She won't read because "I'm blind". No, Mom, you're not blind, though you do have some challenges with your vision which could be aided by magnifiers and better lighting. But when we try to get her better magnifiers, she balks and complains. "Send it back!" Then she plays victim and helpless. Groan. Sigh. Grr.

More later.