Just when I thought things were calming down, falling into place, today happened.

If you recall, I was having issues with Verizon. That story begins here.  I am still having issues with Verizon even after having contacted the Public Service Commission. Even after the Public Service commission filed a complaint and Verizon corporate called from the escalation department. Even after someone promised me a call-back days ago. My second phone line is still in limbo, can’t get any incoming calls, not sure of outgoing functioning. My primary phone line is giving callers a weird message stating that the service hasn’t been established if I don’t respond to a call-waiting, if I leave it off the hook as I did earlier to catch a shower break, if my answering machine is set on more than four rings. Come on already!!!

My mother’s aide is interviewing movers and we are getting quotes from $1,200 to $12,000. I am expecting someone next week from A Move Made Easy who set her place up initially to come over with a mover and check things out. If we don’t take everything she can dispose of things as donations or sales.

After relaying the latest mover du jour’s information to me today, Cynthia, the aide, dropped a bomb.

“I felt a pain in my finger at 4:00 am, then my finger was bleeding. I have two small tooth marks.”

I felt sick. We know what this means. From the moment my mother was brought back home from the rehab center (which didn’t rehab her arm and almost killed her) there were rodents in the apartment. The Hospice nurses were freaking out, they were sleeping in the living room and Mickey and Minnie were squeaking nearby.

I had been assured by the upper echelon that the issue was being taken care of. Traps were set, holes were sealed on the roof. RATS or very large mice were caught. Things were quiet for a while and then they ate through the CAN that holds the oatmeal and brought it back to the nest in the vent. I was assured again that things were under control. I had already filed complaints with the health department.

There was no rat action for a while and then this morning a visitor came in from another access point. And took a bite. This is beyond, beyond acceptable. When I sent my mother’s rent check down for May I included a letter indicating I was paying the rent in good faith and that I expected various issues would be remedied; the first issue was vermin. Good, it’s in writing.  The head of the place called to discuss the letter and I never called him back. There was nothing to discuss. Maybe he thought I was litigious. Whatever I was, I am beyond.

So, in the middle of the load of other calls and emails I had to deal with about moving I decided to call Mr. Director over at Emeritus. He was not answering, so I explained the issue to the gentleman at the concierge desk (sounds fancy right? A fancy rat trap) and he and another one of the desk guys must have been paging and searching. Desk guy number two conveyed a message that I would get a call back and that Mr. Director was “doing research” about what to do. That’s when I broke out in a sweat and decided that it was after three and I still hadn’t had lunch or taken a shower. Make that breakfast. That’s when I took the phone off the hook. That’s when a few minutes later when I returned my cell phone was ringing because Mr. Director didn’t get a busy signal he got a message that I had no phone. (See how Verizon still plays a part in this?)

OHHHH! I forgot to tell you as an aside that the aide informed me that my mother’s phone wasn’t working and had no dial tone. Could something have chewed through the wire? So this dedicated woman with a rodent bite was interviewing movers, was trying to find the maintenance guy to see if there was anything he could do about the phone, and had the AT&T info in case she had to call. This woman is my right and left hand … OK, back to the story …

Mr. Director is a very cool, smooth guy. He called corporate he said, (of course, what if I would call first?) he informed me they have a new exterminator, said that Cynthia has to keep in touch about her health and if she notices any rodents in the room as the room was allegedly sealed of entry points. He spoke to the nursing staff and Cynthia concurred when she went to the doctor (leaving my mother early and having to call in a sub) that an antibiotic was protocol for treatment, that it was enough. The only thing to be wary of if anything were fleas, rabies was not likely. OK so now am I possibly going to move up flea infested furniture? Mouse droppings?

Mr. Director said that he was saving the “respite apartment” for my mother should she feel she can’t stay in hers and then they wouId fumigate. For a few weeks. Interesting timing. I decided to be frank–to a point–with Mr. Director and I could feel the sweat running down his forehead. “I am thinking of moving my mother back to NY.” I didn’t attack him or the place. I said I wanted to discuss things with him for a while (very calm, make him feel like I am seeking his infinite widsom). I said we were spending almost $10,000/mo on rent and a live-in aide. I said I knew Medicaid down there was frozen. (He said there is a one year waiting list) I told him about Medicaid up here and how it is different for remaining in the community. If she stays there I don’t know what will happen. “I don’t want my mother dying alone in Florida.” He said he is a big stickler for being close to family and then added, “but don’t tell my boss I said that.” he too was playing the game–with me.

We were polite, diplomatic. He told me to put the 30-days notice in writing to protect myself, this way no bills would come for August and if need be we could stay month to month,. I also told him the rent has been going up annually and it adds up. All of a sudden there was some kind of found money to offset another raise. And he’d be happy to sit down and conference with the family about how we could work this out. And was I “married to the aide?” Apparently I could get an aide for half of what I am paying but would she be an agency employee so I could file a claim and would she be vested working for bupkis? I used that word, he can look it up in his Yiddish dictionary. (animal droppings…nada of value…zilch).

I also found out that the two months rent I paid upon entering (over $4,000) was not rent it was a community admission fee and it is NOT REFUNDABLE upon vacating.

So I played it real, played the sympathy card, told him whether he sincerely cares or not that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in nine months, I am stressed and stretched beyond my limit and my mother’s being down there is making me nuts (although my mother being up here might make me nuts as well but at least it will be a different kind of nuts.)

He agreed, Mr. Director did, to keep in touch, he appeared to be helpful to some extent, he put on his “nice” persona, and we all know this is called “covering your ass.”

Be it Verizon or a corporate owned assisted living facility, there is always a fall-guy and this guy’s head is going to roll if there is a law suit which I believe my aide is entitled to file.

And there is always bupkis to deal with.

This series is linked: see “continued here.” Also, below the line there will be links for the previous post and the next.

The series starts here

continued here