Chapter 3: A Wonderful Idea!

A Wonderful Idea

As I expected, Mom's confinement in the nursing home began to wear on her patience. On visits shortly after the new year, I found her to be very agitated and upset. At the end of one, in particular, her final words caused my heart to break. As I was walking towards the door, she haltingly yelled, "Never go into one of these places, they never let you out!" It was the longest sentences I had heard her speak since the stroke, but filled with such desperation that I could not hide my sorrow.

Daddy, too, was getting restless as well. He wanted to go home and be with his dog. When I arrived to visit one day, he was lying on his bed in mid-afternoon in a total state of depression. He wanted nothing to do with activities, nor with visiting me. I tried to talk to him but he was so very solemn and discouraged. All he would say is, "I want to go home."

As hard as that visit was for me to see them so solemn, it spurred me into action to search out options to help my parents once again be happy. Just because they were legally declared incompetent surely didn't mean they no longer had rights as American citizens! As I saw it, their Constitutional rights for "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" still applied.

After one particularly discourating visit a few weeks later, a brilliant idea suddenly came to mind. Bill and I would find a house in northern Wisconsin where we lived, that could be purchased in Dad's behalf. Then we could all live together with just part-time assistance from home health. I had three years of experience as a nursing assistant and had been a social worker for many years prior to that. Yes, I felt sure that would be the answer!

As Bill and I checked local listings, one house in particular seemed to jump right out at us. It was a large brick home on a tree-filled, double lot, close to the local clinic and hospital. With excitement we went to look at it that very afternoon. There was no doubt in my mind that the house would be absolutely perfect.

The living room was huge and a large fireplace adorned one wall. Mom had always wanted but never had a fireplace and in my mind's eye, I could picture her sitting in this room, mesmerized by a warm, crackling fire. There were three bedrooms in the house just off the living room, and even the hallway was nearly twice as wide as normal. It was as if this house had been built with my parents special needs in mind. The kitchen was big and bright and as an added bonus, a nicely carpeted screened room was just steps away where Dad could eat breakfast, watching the birds and squirrels.

In Dad's behalf, we quickly put an offer in for basically the same price that his house would sell for. The owners accepted our offer within a day and the last thing we needed to do was obtain the court's permission to purchase the house for my parents and get them moved out of the nursing home.

Moving Forward

I phoned the young attorney who had handled the guardianships to explain our plans, armed with a letter from both Mom's and Dad's doctor, clearly indicating the least restrictive environment would be ideal for them. Mom's doctor specifically stated that a nursing home placement should be the last option. The attorney said she would get a court hearing set up and didn't think it would be a complicated process.

Since the county social worker still had an open case on my mother, I gave her a call and explained what the plans were. I found her to be very non-committal, basically informing me she would probably have no involvement in the legal decision. She said she would be at the courthouse, however, where she could be summoned if need be when the hearing occurred.

Bill and I could hardly wait to visit my folks and give them the news. It was a bleak, cold day in early February, but I could barely contain my excitement as I entered their room in the nursing home, where they had now resided for nearly three months! We came with pictures of the house, inside and out, for them to see.

It was as if I could see them both rejuvenate right before my eyes. Mom eagerly said, "Yes, that would be wonderful." It was one of our few, truly joyous visits and the anticipation of moving into the lovely, spacious house, gave both of them the emotional strength needed to continue living in the nursing home for the time being.

The Court Process

The day of the hearing, Bill and I arrived at the courthouse early, anxiously awaiting the arrival of my parents. Our attorney arrived a short time later and advised us that the judge wanted to see her and the county social worker before our case would be heard. When she and the social worker returned from his chambers, I tried to be low key. "What's up? I asked. My lawyer quickly filled me in. "The judge will be postponing the matter for two weeks until he receives a written report from the county social worker."

At that point my composure gave way to some good old righteous anger. "What!" I yelled. "This is just the very reason I phoned and asked the social worker so she could plan ahead for today." The frustration at having made the long trip down for the hearing and knowing I would have to break the unhappy news of the delay to my parents, was almost too much for me.

While my anger was certainly understandable, the social worker was highly indignant and felt I was being totally unreasonable. If only she had just listened to me in the first place a postponement would not have been necessary. This was a setback that none of us in the family needed or expected.

Discouraged, we went to inform Mom and Dad of the delay. Mom instantly became upset and together we shared our frustration. Dad, however was surprisingly calm. I recall him trying to help my mother cope. "Judy is doing all she can to get us out of here. Just let her handle it." He had such confidence in me..far more than I had in myself.

The next morning, I spoke to the social worker on the phone. Trying to at least sound friendly, I asked her what information she would like me to provide in order for her to prepare her report. She requested a proposed schedule showing what a typical week would consist of if the house was purchased and my parents lived with us.

I made that my first priority and soon had a detailed weekly schedule, showing blocks of time from 6 a.m. to midnight. Bill and I were both primary caregivers in this plan, but we also had provision for home health workers to be involved 30 hours per week to allow us respite. Working out this schedule made me anticipate having my parents with us even more. I could visualize Mom and I sitting in the kitchen chatting as we ate breakfast, Dad enjoying the fresh air out in the beautiful yard, and cozy evenings where we would all be watching television in front of a warm, roaring fire. Just thinking about it gave me great peace.

Wanting to leave no stone unturned, I also created a visual presentation for the social worker, of items we would install or use in the home to keep safety a priority. There were hand bars for the bathroom, a safety rail for Mom's bed, along with a variety of other tools to help them both function as independently as possible.

Having been a nursing assistant, I was keenly interested in keeping them both as mobile as possible. For Dad, I knew this would be easy because he still walked very well and kept active. For Mom, I was thankful I knew all about Range of Motion exercises. I planned a simple routine of finger, arm, leg and foot movements that we could do daily while she was in bed, or sitting in a chair.

Within just a few days, I sent the itemized plans to the social worker along with a copy to my attorney for the judge to preview. I was confident I had covered all the bases and nothing was left to question. As a follow-up, I phoned the county social worker a few days later. While she was quite friendly, she said she was "concerned" we might need more help than realized. I said we would be "quite willing to make adjustments if needed."

Hearing Number Two

Several days prior to the second hearing, I talked with our attorney. While she had previously been confident the proceedings would be short and simple, she now had doubts. Getting right to the point she said, "In spite of the wonderful presentation you've put together, the social worker is reluctant to endorse it. This doesn't mean the judge won't still approve it, but generally the recommendation of the county carries a lot of weight in court."

She advised me to think ahead to what I would say to the judge when I was called to the stand. If I could be confident and persuasive, that, along with the positive letters from the doctors would help a great deal.

My patience was quickly running out and it was obvious that the social worker was going to be the proverbial "thorn in my side." Not wanting to waste my energy on her, I poured myself into preparing my statement for the court. When done, I could only hope that the judge would weigh everything and realize that a loving home would be far preferable to a nursing home for my parents.

When the judge was ready to hear our case, the social worker was the first to be questioned. As expected, she stated her position clearly, noting that while Bill and I had "good intentions," she felt my parents would obtain more adequate care in a nursing home. I was so disgusted with her by this time that all I could see was red!

Finally it was my turn to speak. I was asked to state why I wanted my parents to live with my family. Addressing the judge, I stated, "When I was little, my parents were always there for me, but now the tables have turned and I am in a position where I can, and desire to be there for them." To show that I was thinking realistically, I added, "While we will no doubt encounter problems from time to time, our love is great and we will find a way to overcome any obstacles."

The courtroom became quiet as the judge pondered his decision. After what seemed a long time, he spoke, addressing his comments to me. "While I applaud your desire to care for your parents, at this time I am unable to allow you to buy a house for them." He said the plan was a vast undertaking and while it could possibly happen in the future, now was the wrong time.

I felt completely defeated. I had done my best to get my parents back into a more normal life and I was devasted by the judge's decision. As if to salvage the hearing and leave us with a positive direction to move in, the judge did permit us to find a nursing home for my parents closer to where we lived, so we could then enjoy more frequent, meaningful visits with them.

Wanting to spare Daddy the pain I was feeling, I told him we would soon be moving both he and Mom up to a nursing home closer to where I lived, and then we could work on getting a house for them. Dad seemed alright with that as long as something was being done. Mom, however, was not as easy to placate and was clearly distraught when I told her the results of the hearing. All I could do was hug her and emphasize that I would not stop working to better their situation. While I certainly didn't feel optimistic, I had to be strong to give her hope.

The Tipped Scales

It wasn't until a few weeks later that I learned several things which had served to keep the court decision from being in our favor. As I spoke to our attorney about the nursing home transfer, she confided, "The social worker later told me she would never approve any home care plan you devised, period!" I was incensed to think she apparently cared absolutely nothing about my parents. This was all just a personal vendetta against me.

Why was this woman so adamant about keeping my parents in a nursing home? I was extremely angry because she wasn't taking into consideration the needs and desires of my parents at all. It was me she didn't like and that seemed to settle it all in her mind. My attorney told me to focus on the fact that once they were moved, we could get the venue changed to the county of their new residence and then this social worker would no longer be involved in any decisions regarding my parents.

She also filled me in on one other point which had certainly contributed to the judge's reluctance of granting the move. Just a few years earlier, his father had suffered a debilitating stroke and his mother had cared for him at home until he died. He had witnessed, firsthand, how difficult this had been for her and was thus quite concerned about the toll it would take on us to provide for not just one, but two elderly parents.

I appreciated the judge's concern and was glad to know the bigger picture, but it in no way stopped me from working to obtain the freedom that my parents wanted and deserved. My love for those two people gave me the fuel I needed to keep moving forward and I was confident that brighter days lay ahead.