Yesterday we went over and got a lot of work done. The house has to be painted, so we’re removing everything from walls and moving furniture to the centers of rooms. Amazing amount of knick-knacks and fake plants all covered in dust, books, pictures of that damn granddaughter Katy. So Rich calls Katy’s boyfriend (our only way to get a hold of her) and tells them we’ll be there for a couple of hours, and if they want to get their stuff out of the house, they should do it now. They’ve had notice for more than a week to get it out, and it’s still there. Now the locks have been changed and they’re not allowed in the complex, except by our express permission.

Katy tells Rich that Grandma wants to come home, and that she’s mad at us for selling the house. Knowing full well that she isn’t even able to get in and out of a car, or use the bathroom by herself, or dress herself, much less come home, he told Katy to go ahead and bring Grandma home and we’ll put the house back the way it was. A couple hours went by. Much to our surprise, she and boyfriend and a punk friend show up with Grandma in the passenger seat. Another huge argument ensued in the street. The neighbors must LOVE our family by now. Rich’s mom could literally not get out of the car. He told them all to get her back to the nursing home immediately. They left, after security showed up (I called). I also called the nursing home and started yelling at whoever I could get in charge on the phone. They had effectively kidnapped her!

Then we called the police, again, and then booked over to the home. They were there, thank god, and I laid into the nursing staff, who stood there and gawped at me like dumb bunnies.

We went into the nursing director’s office, where they explained that they were not a locked facility, and they had no instructions to not release her to any particular individuals. The boyfriend had claimed to be her grandson, apparently, and they don’t check ID’s. It was impossible to get two words out before being interrupted by the nursing director. We both called her on it, on two separate occasions. “Okay, can I talk now? I’ll start over…”

Meanwhile, Katy and boyfriend are wheeling grandma down to her rehab, as though nothing was amiss. She called Katy “dear heart.” We had to go into a previously-scheduled meeting with the social services director which was just ridiculous. She didn’t introduce herself or even make eye contact. She wanted nothing to do with “family disputes.” She did want, however, to know what Rich’s discharge plans would be. We tried explaining to her that because of Katy, our options are about nil. We have to sell the house as quickly as possible, because in two weeks, Medicare will run out, and after that, it’s about nine thousand a month to keep her in the nursing home. Up front.

The police showed up, and Rich filed an “incident report,” because of boyfriend impersonating a relative.

Meanwhile, all Rich’s mom cares about is that Katy get certain furniture. She’s living on someone’s couch right now, and will (please god) be going to jail soon, so we don’t see how she can take any furniture. Besides, we have to sell everything for money.

Going back tomorrow to finish the painting prep, and we’ll see what fresh surprises are in store for us! Whee!