Things were going great for Mom as she reasserted her independence and autonomy.
She was finally paying attention to her bank statements enough to figure out that I was still paying some of her bills. She called the bank to change the passwords, effectively blocking me from accessing her accounts in order to use the online bill-pay service.
She contacted Social Security to have her checks deposited into an account of her choice and have me removed as representative payee.
On her own she located an adult foster care home with a level of care more suitable to her needs that would also save her a ton of money each month. She discharged herself from West Hills rehab and arranged for her and all her stuff to be moved.
The day Mom moved into her new home she had an episode that landed her in the emergency room. Nothing life-threatening, but serious nonetheless. Not a stroke as originally thought.
Now she lays in a hospital bed, miserable, weak, pain in every movement. It hurts just to lift her head or move her arm. Initially she was confused, incoherent, disoriented, but at least her mental acuity is coming back, though not completely and not right away.
Returning to her new foster care home is out of the question. She will have to go into a rehab situation for at least a week or two until she regains some strength.
The irony is killing me.