A counselor-friend mentioned to Flat Stanley's husband that FS's dying, dysfunctional parent issue might blow the dust off of FS's long-resolved issues with the ol lady. F***er. Hate it when people are right about crap like that.
Flat Stanley's mother had her caseworker and nursing home professionals fit to be tied last Friday when it was discovered that the old lady had spent the preceding few days on the phone bollixing up financial and legal arrangements that took FS's sister months to straighten out. The old lady removed FS's sister's Power of Attorney status and demanded that the nursing home take charge of her financial affairs. Nursing home refused, leaving FS's sister in the unenviable position of caring for the old lady's bad habits (cell phone bill, cigarettes) without having access to the old lady's money to pay for it. Without power of attorney, there's no one to pay the nursing home, meaning that they'll have to sue the old lady's estate for payment. Which will totally tee her off.
Eventually, somebody's going to step in and remove the old lady's last right to any semblance of independence, and from what FS hears, hospice was advocating that on Friday. Thank goodness for weekends, for they provide space. But. Now FS is being told that the hospice guy is taking back his suggestion because (now that he's all calmed down) he realizes that the old lady's plenty smart enough to convince a judge that she's in complete control of her faculties.
And she probably is. Because the old lady's a carrier. She carries the gene for emotional instability. It's a very powerful gene. It's so powerful that the effects of the gene can be passed outside the usual DNA pathways. This gene makes the saying, "Insanity is hereditary — You get it from your kids" look like a platitude.
This gene for emotional instability has access to local and long-distance carriers. It's transmitted through specific, seemingly innocuous actions such as phone calls and time-of-day conversations. This gene for emotional instability leaves its source (FS's mother) determined and immovable and leaves its recipients blubbering basket cases who have to take the day off work to deal with the oceans of sorrow welling up in volcanic explosions of soul-wrenching depth. Bullshit. No wonder the old lady says she hates emotions. FS does too, at this point.