Today was a day off from work. Work calls it vacation. I call it sadness.
Everything mom owns is in a trust and the trust specifies the process for stepping in to manage her affairs.
The process starts with my brother and I asking mom’s family doctor his opinion about my mom’s ability to manage her affairs. If her family doctor agrees mom needs help, he recommends a doctor specializing in cognitive disorders. My brother and I have to agree with the family doctor’s choice of a specialist. If the specialist agrees, then the two doctors send a letter to the attorney. My brother and I then sign some paperwork and take copies of the documents around to every place that needs to know we are now managing mom’s affairs.
The family doctor agreed mom needs our help and recommended a cognitive neurologist as the specialist doctor.
Today was the appointment with the cognitive neurologist.
The specialist doctor “strongly agreed” that our mom needs our help. As she (the doctor) administered the tests….What is 12 plus 9?….Who is the president of the United States? Where are you right now? Can you draw a clock?…and I watched mom struggle, I started to tear up.
The doctor…she had to comfort me.