Safety from Scams, Sweepstakes, and Solicitors

When I first moved in with Mom in 2012 to be her caregiver, I was astonished at the amount of mail and phone calls she and Grandma received from businesses and charities asking for donations.  Sister M. warned me of Mom's bad habit of staying up all hours of the night watching QVC and HSN, then calling in to order whatever it was they were selling, sometimes ordering multiple items at a time.  She had two carpet shampooers and three vacuum cleaners in the front coat closet, plus a brand new vacuum still in the box sitting in the living room as evidence of her out-of-control spending.

Sister M. told me about a time when Mom saw a commercial advertising some kind of emergency car kit, and Mom thought they were such a great idea that she ordered one for herself, one for Grandma, and one for each of her kids for Christmas presents.  I bet the sales rep that got Mom's call was happy! Sister M. intercepted the delivery, called the company to cancel and return to sender, and got Mom's money refunded.

I have the following entry in my journal dated January 14, 2013:

Grandma and I were sitting on her couch in her apartment chatting when the phone rang.  Mom was sitting in Grandma's recliner next to the phone, so she looked at the Caller ID, then picked up.  She listened for a long time as the person on the other end talked--I assumed it was a family member in New Mexico calling with an update about Grandma's sister, who had recently suffered a fall and was hospitalized.  But when Mom said, "The most I can do right now is twenty," I immediately stopped talking to Grandma and asked, "Mom, who's on the phone?"  

She threw me a dirty look and refused to answer, so I stood and walked over to her.

"Credit," Mom told the caller.  "Okay, hold on."

I panicked.  "Mom!  Who is that?"

She set the phone down to go get her credit card so I asked again who it was. "I don't know, ask them!" she dared.  Either she was being defiant or she actually didn't know to whom she was speaking.

"Mom, you can't afford to make a donation right now.  Just tell them 'No, thank you.'" 

She stood defiantly, turned on her heel, and walked out.  I picked up the phone.  "May I ask who's calling?"  

The caller answered, "This is Barbara from Ross Parsley Ministries."

"I'm sorry, my mother isn't able to make a donation at this time.  Could you please cancel her pledge and add our number to your Do Not Call List?"  Barbara begrudgingly obliged.  I thanked her and hung up, then went to go find Mom.

"Mom, you can't be making a donation every time someone calls you!  I've warned you about how dangerous this is."

"I can do what I want!" she said, stomping her foot.  She stormed off to Grandma's apartment while I went downstairs to get her morning medications.  When I returned, Grandma's door was locked, so I knocked.  Grandma kept her door unlocked during the day so that we could come in any time, so when it was locked, I knew Mom had done it.

"Come in!"  Grandma hollered.

"I can't, it's locked!"  I tried to yell loud enough for my hearing-impaired grandmother to hear me.  "I need to give Mom her medicine!"

"I'm eating breakfast!" Mom yelled, "and I'm not ready to take them now."  

I decided not to argue while Mom was in a pouty mood, so I sat at her kitchen table and ate a bowl of cereal.  Thirty minutes later, Mom walked to the pantry where she proceeded to load her arms up with food.

"What are you doing?"  I asked.

"I'm bringing my food to Mom's--SHE can cook for me!"

"Oh, so now you're mad at me?  Mom, I've told you before how dangerous credit card fraud is, especially over the phone!  Scammers specifically target seniors, and you're no exception.  Besides, Sister M. said you need to rein in your spending and you can't be making donations to everybody who calls on the phone!"

"I don't like being told what to do or being treated like a child!"  Mom stamped her foot.

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do and I'm not treating you like a child, I'm trying to keep you safe!  To protect you!  That's why Husband G. and I are here.  Besides, you didn't even know who the charity was you were donating to!"

"I did too!  I've seen the number on the Caller ID before, so I know I've donated to them before."

"No, Mom, I don't care what the Caller ID says, you don't know if that caller is legitimate or not.  I worked for the phone company for nine years, I know what I'm talking about!  Haven't you heard about how scammers call and trick people, especially seniors, into thinking they're donating to a charity and it's so they'll give their credit card over the phone, and before you know it, thousands of dollars of unauthorized charges show up on your credit card bill?  It happens all the time!  You don't EVER give your credit card number over the phone when someone calls YOU!  If YOU call a legitimate company and they need your card, that's different, but you NEVER give out your card number if someone calls YOU!"  

"Whatever!"  she dismissed me and started to head for Grandma's apartment with her arms loaded down.

"No, Mom, don't just say, 'Whatever!'  This is important, you need to hear what I'm saying!  You need to understand."

"Well, I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Alright, you let me know when you're ready to talk about it then."  And she went to Grandma's, locking the door behind her.  It was her passive aggressive way to tell me--in not so many words--to leave her alone, end of discussion.

I don't tell her this stuff because I'm a dictator!  I tell her to protect her!  There are so many scammers out there, and she and Grandma are both at risk because they're mentally unstable and "softies." And they don't know how to say No!  Especially Grandma!

A month later while sitting at a traffic light on our way to a doctor's appointment, I received a text from Sister M., "Do you know anything about these make-up kits that Mom ordered?  I just got one in the mail addressed to me, but it looks like Mom ordered them.  It's not her regular Discover card number on the order form.  Did she get a new card?"

After reading the text, I turned to Mom, "I just got a text from Sister M. about some sort of make-up kit?  Do you know anything about it?"

Mom's posture stiffened and she crossed her arms.  "I ordered them!"

"How?  I took all your credit cards away."

I had told Sister M. about Mom's close call with the charity on the phone and my concern she was going to get scammed, so M. told me to take all Mom's credit cards and ID cards and hold onto them for her.  If Mom ever asked me for a card, I was to "supervise" anything she did with it.

"Mom gave me her card."

"She GAVE it to you or you TOOK it?" I clarified.

"No," she got defensive, "I asked her for it and she gave it to me."

I was livid now.  "Oh, so it's not enough that I had to take your credit cards away, now you're convincing Grandma to surrender her card to you whenever you want so you can charge up her card?"  And of course, Grandma would never tell Mom 'No'!

"No, I told her to deduct my charges from her rent check."

I was flabbergasted!  "Mom!  Taking away your credit cards is for your own protection!  You don't just go behind my back and trick Grandma into letting you charge stuff on her card!"

"Well, I wanted it, so I asked Mom to let me use her card."

"No, it doesn't work that way!  If you want to charge something, you ask me for your card, and then Sister M. or I will determine if it's something you need.  If not, you go without, you don't act sneaky and charge it to Grandma's card behind our backs, then tell her to deduct it from her rent!"

"It wasn't something I needed, it was something I wanted!  And don't tell me what to do!  It's MY money and I'll spend it however I want to!"  she argued.  "Besides, I didn't feel like arguing with you about it!"

"I bet you don't because you know you did something you weren't supposed to!  Since when does a 70-year-old woman, who has rarely ever worn make-up in the past to begin with, need to spend that much money on make-up?  Especially with all the other make-up you already have in your bathroom!  You are being deceitful, and you owe Grandma and me an apology!"

She never did apologize, and I had a stern talking-to with Grandma when we got home to not give Mom her credit card.  Grandma is just as rebellious as Mom, though--all in the name of maintaining independence, of course--so my admonition probably went unheeded. Turns out, the make-up was a "subscription deal," and Grandma got upset when the charge continued to show up on her Discover card statement for the next several months.  Sister M. had intercepted two more deliveries the next day (which were addressed to Mom) and called the company to cancel the current order and any future deliveries, but it took months for Grandma to get the charges to stop.  I refused to help her--I wanted Grandma to learn a lesson from going behind our backs to "help" Mom.

I had printed up several pages of scam information off the Internet, especially scams directed towards seniors, and shared it with Mom and Grandma in the days following.  Every charity and solicitor who called the house, I would politely tell them we weren't interested in donating, and to add our number to the Do Not Call List, and went on the national registry and added our home phone number to cut down on the solicitations.  Junk mail from religious organizations, food banks, Indian reservations, various missions, and so forth continued to fill the mailbox (she still supports World Vision and St. Jude on a monthly basis), but I simply burned them in the fire pit and didn't let Mom see them.  I eventually started burning Grandma's junk mail too.  My efforts have put a considerable dent in the amount of paper waste that arrives in our mailbox, but it has taken almost five years.  Grandma would complain about the requests anyway, claiming she couldn't afford any donations, and yet a "receipt" or "thank you gift for your donation" would arrive in the mail.  I was fighting a losing battle!

It's obvious that many loved ones who suffer from dementia or other mental health issues cannot properly discern what is legitimate and what is fraud--whether it's telemarketing, investing, sweepstakes, or even dishonest family members.  That's not to say that every charity is illegitimate, but if Mom donated to everyone who asked for money, she wouldn't have enough money to pay her bills.  As caregivers, it is important that we protect them from these piranhas by screening their phone calls and vetting their mail as much as possible.  Protecting them may require obtaining Power of Attorney or Guardianship.  If your Loved One lives at a different address than you, put in a change of address so that all their mail comes to you.  Set up their bills on auto-pay, especially if they're skipping payments or paying twice because they forgot they already paid the bill, and gain control over their checkbook so that they can't write a check to every Tom, Dick, or Harry that asks for money.  I've heard from many other caregivers that their Loved One was "talked into lending" lots of money to family members who had no intentions of paying them back.  But even professional caregivers need to be watched--a former classmate discovered that the person his family hired to take care of their mother was stealing from her, and they took her to court and won!

So be careful out there!  Unfortunately, your Loved One with dementia or mental illness probably can't understand the danger, so the best protection is prevention!

Micro Managing Must Stop!

Journal entry dated 9/7/2012

As part of our moving to MD to take care of Mom and her attempts to make us feel welcome, she said I could clear out Dad's hunting storage room in the basement to use as an art studio.  Woo hoo!  Brothers C. & M., Brother-in-Law J.,  and Nephew B. already took what they wanted of Dad's hunting stuff and tools when he died, and the room wasn't serving a purpose, so why not use it as a studio?  Mom said, "Just clean it out and do what you want with it." 

I had mentioned what I was going to do to Nephew B. (he and his pregnant girlfriend S. live in the basement and he's having his house built next door), and he had no reaction, nothing to say ... nothing.  The next day, I was just about done clearing it out when B. got home and he looked around, saying, "Geez, what's the big rush?"  Umm, rush?  We've already lived here a month and I'm going crazy not being able to paint or draw!  I said, "Mom said I could use this as my studio--I told you yesterday what I was going to do and you didn't object.  I moved everything under the stairs but Brother C. (his father) told me not to touch the ammo, so I left it alone."  B. turned and walked out.  I didn't think anything of it.  Besides, I was excited to have a space to myself where I could store all my art supplies.  

When his girlfriend S. came home, she went straight to their bedroom and slammed the door.  I was putting some paint cans away on the workshop wall and walked back to the studio when she came out and looked straight at me but said nothing.  So I said cheerfully, "Hello!  How are you?"  "Oh, okay," she mumbled.  Was that a hint of snarkiness I detected?  Hmm, must be the baby hormones, I thought, or else she and B got into a fight--which Sister M. says they do a LOT.  In fact, M. doesn't think they should even get married, IF they ever are, that is!  As S. walked into their living room where B. was watching TV (the room is closed off by two separate doors), she said, "She's already got that room cleaned out!"  She sounded mad, but I didn't understand why, or what the big deal was.  It wasn't their room, it's shut off from the rest of the basement, and Mom told me I could.  Was I not supposed to?

Mom says it's bad enough that they commandeered the spare bedroom and are using it for their storage (That's not included in his rent! Mom said.  In fact, B. didn't even ask Mom if his girlfriend could move in in the first place.  Same thing happened with his previous girlfriend.  And he wasn't even giving Mom extra rent money to cover the increase in utilities, not to mention using the spare bedroom and a large portion of the workshop to store their stuff).  When Mom got home from fridge shopping, I asked her if I wasn't supposed to clear out the room because B. was having a tantrum.  I brought her downstairs to show her the new studio and she was shocked (in a good way) at how different it looked.  She said, "B. is NOT the boss!  It's MY house, and MY room!  I make the rules and if he doesn't like it, tough $#!+!"  

Oh my goodness!  That's the first time I have ever heard Mom cuss!  I tried to shush her since they were in the next room, but she said, "I don't care if they hear me!  It's MY HOUSE, not theirs!  I told you you could use this room!  I make the rules, not them!  Sorry, but I cuss when I get mad, like now.  I'm just sick of people telling me what to do!"  I asked, "Does B. expect me to wait until he gets his house built and they move out before I can start painting?  We're cooped up in that tiny guest room and there's not enough room for my art supplies, so I need to be able to spread out."  Mom said, "No, you don't need to paint in your bedroom.  And B is crazy if he thinks you should wait.  It's not his house, and it's not his storage unit!"  I took that as permission to carry on, so I did.

Later that evening, I got a text from Sister M.:  Please refrain from doing any clean-out or build-out or whatever until B&S move out.  Between the flood (from the new fridge being installed, the leaking water line got their kitchen wet) and the hunting room, they're very upset.

Me:  Sorry, Mom said I could use the room as my art studio and I didn't know I needed their permission.  All I did was move the hunting room stuff to the space under the stairs.  I told B. about cleaning out the hunting room and he never said anything, so I had no idea that it was an issue.  Brother C. told me not to move Dad's ammunition, so I left all that alone.

Sister M.:  You didn't need their permission, it's just that they already have privacy issues with Mom and Grandma rolling down there whenever they feel like it.  It just probably could've waited until they moved out.  S. is stressing out and they feel like they are being forced out.

Me:  Well, G&I are stressing out too!  We went from 1500+ sf to 150 sf.  I have no place to do my art, especially when it's raining or hot and buggy outside.  I need to make some money since G hasn't found a job yet.  Mom is trying to do her best to make us feel at home.  I don't think it's realistic to expect us to wait 4-6 months before using available space, especially when no one is using it.  I am respecting their space, knocking before I enter, and I even offered to help clean up the flood mess but S. said she took care of it.  I don't understand why they can't come talk to me or G directly instead of dragging you into this anyway.

Sister M:  Because Mom freaks out on B. every time he tries to talk to her about this stuff.  He doesn't feel comfortable talking to her.  The last time they "talked," she said some very mean and hurtful things to him, so I don't blame him.  As we've discussed, she's mean when she's "up."  It's more S. who has issues (baby hormones, no doubt) and B. is trying to chill her out.  I'm just trying to keep the boat from rocking too much!

Me:  I hear ya!  But is he scared to talk to ME? or G?  And yes, Mom CAN be mean when she's up.  She just informed us that we will be paying rent after we move into the basement, and that I don't have to "tote" her everywhere--Grandma can drive her.  I think we all need to have a sit-down family chat to clear up some details.

Sister M.:  I think B. was afraid you'd react like Mom does.  I told him I was sure you would honor any privacy requests.  Yes, we should have a family chat, especially since I made it very clear to her that you would NOT be paying rent!  How did her dr's appointment go?

Me:  Absolutely I would respect privacy!  I'm the LAST person he needs to be afraid of!  Mom didn't appreciate that we decided all this about her care and me and G moving in without consulting her.  And I didn't get to ask Dr. L. all my questions because she jumped in and defended herself about everything.  He acted rushed and we already had to wait 2 hours.  He wants her to get an MRI to make sure she hasn't had any "tiny strokes" that are causing the dizziness.

Sister M.:  Okay, thanks. Keep me posted.

Mom was livid that Sister M. was dragged into our discussion about the hunting-room-come-studio issue, but she told me that I could continue renovating.  She said, "It's none of her business what goes on over here!"  Which is true, but we all know that Sister M. has to be in control.  She is the Micro Managing Queen--over her life, her husband's life, her kids' lives, EVERYONE's lives!  Even if it doesn't concern her!  And if you do something against her wishes, she holds a grudge against you and doesn't speak to you for months, or even years!  

Sister M.'s attempts to control my life is part of the reason why I moved to Colorado in 1996--she kept wanting to make decisions for me, decisions that didn't concern her, and when I didn't comply, she'd have a fit, then badmouth me to the rest of the family! She's not happy unless she's micro-managing everyone's lives!  But these are decisions that don't concern her!  I don't understand why B. had to drag her into this anyway!  Why is a grown man a tattle tail?  And Mom "hurt his feelings"?  Boo hoo hoo!  He needs to grow some!  I've had enough of her trying to control my life, and Mom's house, and what goes on inside it doesn't concern her, so why drag her into it?  

I can tell you one thing, if I'm going to be Mom's caregiver, I can't have Sister M. hanging over my shoulder, trying to tell me what I can and can't do.  If this was a team effort and she was helping me on a regular basis, that would be a different story.  If she wanted to maintain all this control, why didn't SHE offer to be Mom's caregiver?  She's tried to control me ever since I was in high school, and I'm 45 now!  This micro managing must stop!     

The Ugly Side of Bipolar Disorder

Journal Entry dated September 7, 2012

Mom's official diagnosis is "Bipolar Disorder - Mixed State," and I'm still trying to get the hang of it.  The way Dr. L. has me change Mom's doses depending on what phase she's in (manic or depressive) is confusing.  How is anything supposed to stabilize if I'm constantly changing her medication?  Oh well, I guess he knows what he's doing--he's the doctor, after all.  We had to wait two hours to see him on 9/5, and then he acted like he was rushed so I felt like I couldn't ask him everything.  Why does he insist on overbooking himself so much!  Whenever I asked him a question, Mom would become defensive and try to answer, not even giving him a chance to answer me.  I told him she's rebellious and mean--I don't like talking about her like that right in front of her, but she needs to know so that she can learn to chill out.  

I brought up the subject of admitting Mom to the hospital for a "de-tox" because my siblings asked me to check into it.  He said we can't just stop her meds cold turkey.  Why not?  She'd be in a hospital where they could monitor her behavior.  It just seems like she's on way too many prescriptions.  He attributed Mom's lack of success to her being inconsistent with taking her meds, but now that I'm here, we should have a better success rate. She was in a "hyper-manic" state during the appointment, so he said to increase her Klonopin to 3 tablets to help calm her down.  

I didn't get to ask all my questions, but I did get enough of them answered.  Because Dr. L. is a general practitioner, I feel like I need to find a psychiatrist for Mom to supervise her psychotropic meds.  Sister M. said that she has tried bringing Mom to several different psychiatrists, but Mom hasn't liked any of them, so she gave up.  Nice.

Mom is still spending money like crazy--apparently a classic symptom of BPD!  She and Grandma went to Sears yesterday (they didn't want me to go--probably because she didn't want me telling her how to spend her money!) to get a different refrigerator (the new one was delivered last week but it doesn't have a deli drawer, so Mom wants to exchange it).  They were gone for HOURS!  When they got back, they had been to Family Christian Bookstore, Kohl's, and the Dollar Store.  I couldn't believe all the JUNK she bought!  Bags and bags of "Christmas presents":  DVDs, coffee mugs, books, CDs, etc., that she'll forget about before Christmas even arrives!  Then lots of toys for Sister N's kids that they probably won't use (I think Mom has forgotten their ages because she bought "infant" toys, not toddler and older toys).  She bought $200-worth of clothes for B&S's baby--she never spent that much money on her own kids or grandkids before!  But I guess this is her first great-grandchild, so it's okay if she splurges?  Besides, it's her money, she's going to spend it on whatever she wants!  
  
Sister M. warned me of Mom's shopping sprees.  She said she would just let her buy what she wanted, then she'd sneak into the house and remove all the new stuff (usually still in bags with the receipts) and return it to the stores and Mom was none-the-wiser because she had forgotten what she bought!  On previous shopping trips, any time I tried to tell Mom that she didn't need something, she'd say, "Don't tell me what to spend my money on!", or "Don't tell me what to do!",  or "It's MY money!", or "You're not my mother!", or "I know I don't NEED it, I WANT it!" and buy it anyway.  But Sister M. was right--Mom would soon forget about her purchases, so I would gather them in the bags along with the receipts and take them back to the store and have her credit card refunded. 

Last week we went to CostCo, and every time she saw something she liked, she just threw it in the cart.  I saw a winter coat that I really liked and she offered to buy it as a Christmas present, but I told her No.  She overloaded her cart so much that she didn't have enough cash to pay for everything, so I ended up using my debit card to cover her purchases.  She acts like she has all kinds of money, but she doesn't!  And her $7K in property taxes is due.  Mom said, "I don't know where the money is gonna come from, but I'm sure Sister M. has all that covered since she handles my bills!"  (Mom couldn't handle paying her bills anymore so Sister M. took over after Dad died in 2007.)

Another thing is, I've noticed Mom repeats herself a lot.  She'll tell you a story she just told you a day or two ago.  When I give her her medication, she asks why she only has one green and one white pill--how can she notice the change in her medicine but can't remember that she told you the same story a couple days ago?  Or forgets about all the junk she just bought?

Mom is also designating who gets what when she dies.  Someone told Grandma to start putting her kids' names on the stuff she wants them to get when she dies, so now Mom is doing that with her jewelry.  She said, "You'd be surprised how everyone will fight over your stuff after you're gone.  This way, if I put names on everything, no one can fight over it."  I can only imagine the hundreds of dollars she has spent on all her costume jewelry.  Her diamond tennis bracelets alone are worth more than $10K!  

Shortly after Dad died, Mom came out to visit me in Colorado (this was before G and I married).  I had given her a pair of my aquamarine earrings because she liked the color so much, only to find out that she didn't wear them anymore so she gave them back to me, along with an aqua glass bracelet I bought her while she was there.  She had a beautiful aquamarine bracelet that I fawned over, saying it was a perfect match to my earrings and necklace, so she told me to take it.  I resisted, saying, "I can't accept that!  Sister M. would have a fit!"  "It's MY jewelry and I'll give it to who I want!"  She also gave me two rings and another bracelet, so I gratefully accepted them and thanked her profusely.  

She's been talking about getting rid of her other possessions too.  "I can't leave all this mess for my kids to deal with when I die!"  Her attic is full of Rubbermaid bins, crammed with clothes and shoes she no longer wears--many aren't even her size! What was she thinking?  Probably that it was too good a sale to pass up!  Ha! Ha!  There are boxes and boxes of Christmas, Valentines, Halloween, and Thanksgiving decorations, etc., that have never been used.  It's crazy how much junk is in the attic and in the basement workshop. Again, all signs of BPD. 

She talks about dying a lot.  Not in the sense that she's suicidal, but that she wants to "have her affairs in order" before she goes.  Her Last Will & Testament and Living Will are already drawn up, so that's good.  She has also pre-paid for her funeral at the same funeral home that handled Dad's.  Last night, Mom was telling Husband G. that each of her kids gets "3 free acres" of her property to do what they want with it.  Sister M. and her Husband J. got just under 4 acres and built their house on it next door to Mom.  G was excited--I was not!  There was no way I could live next door to Sister M.!  Brother M. has said before, "You couldn't PAY me to live next door to Sister M.!"  Mom explained, "You didn't know about your free 3 acres because you've been living in Colorado, but all my kids get 3 free acres.  But not the grandkids--if they want any land, they have to buy it!  But I'll give them a good deal!  Like Grandson B's property--he got a really good deal on his!  Your father wanted to charge him more, but I convinced him to charge less."  

G. is entertaining the idea of staying in MD even after Mom passes, but there's no way I'm not returning to my beloved Colorado!  G. said, "But what if we can find really good jobs here and don't want to move back to CO?"  Nope, I can't imagine!  I can't stand the heat and humidity of the east coast, the DMV traffic, the bugs, no thanks!  Mom interrupted, "Actually, I think you and G. should get THIS house!" I scoffed, "Yeah, Mom, that will really go over well with my siblings!"  She said, "Well why not?  The house and property are paid off, you just have to pay property taxes.  Besides, your father wants the house to stay in the family, so why can't I gift it to you?"  I argued, "No, Mom, my siblings would never approve, nor could we afford it."  She said, "I don't see why they wouldn't!  We'll have to figure out a way to make it happen!"  

It's stuff like this that concerns me about Mom.  Sister M. guessed she only had about "two years left," but I don't see her leaving that soon.  However, people sometimes "know" when they're about to die, so they start getting rid of all their stuff, and if that's any indication in Mom's case, I'd say Sister M. might be on to something (that she'll be gone in two years).  

I mention all this as examples of Mom's behavior--how volatile she can get, how complacent, etc.  Not because I'm "tattling" on her, but to give whomever reads this journal a better idea of the big picture--all the dynamics involved with Mom's care.  

She's scared.  She doesn't like being "sick."  She abhors being told what to do, and lashes out as her way to maintain her independence.  She believes that we kids are "ganging up on her," even though I've explained numerous times that ALL of us have her safety and well being as our number one priority.  She keeps saying, "I know," but I don't really think she does.