This morning I had a very intense meeting at my mom's seniors' home. It involved me, Shin Huang, my mom, Gillian Ruth, and Lindsay (the director of the home). It was about my mom's hoarding being totally out of control again. You can't even enter her room because it's so bad. I was (am) still pissed off with mom for pulling the stunt with the Humane Society on Saturday. I had a panic attack in the night, and Shin was worried about me, so he went with me for support even though I didn't ask him to. I was really grateful for it.

When we arrived, Gilly was pissed off because Mom had just told her she'd bought a new bed (despite her claims that she has no money) and had asked the handyman in the home to throw the old bed in the dumpster outside. That bed is Gilly's, and was only on loan to Mom. Fortunately, it turned out that he hadn't thrown it out yet, so I will be picking it up tomorrow.

Lindsay was really late getting to us, and Gilly had to get going in a hurry, so Gilly was already stressed about that too. Mom was saying "I'm sorry, but..." to everything, which means she's not one bit sorry for anything. I said to her "Sorry isn't good enough."

Her TV is still broken, so last night she occupied herself by taking a bunch of ornaments and crap from around her room and piling them up on her bed. She ended up sleeping in her armchair because she completely buried the bed. She called both me and Gilly this morning asking for boxes, which we took over with us. Mom claimed several boxes were ready for us to take away immediately, but when we got up there she had all these glass and ceramic ornaments piled up to overflowing in a few boxes. We said no way were we taking them like that, and she had to wrap them all in newspaper and box them properly. This is typical of my mother. She had a whole box of old newspapers on the floor that she had gathered for disposal, but it never occurred to her to use them for wrapping.

Anyway, in discussion, Gilly became very upset and said that she was at her wits' end with the hoarding. She's overextended with school out of town, and homework, and work, and didn't know what she was expected to do. It was clear she was very concerned but also extremely frustrated, and also worried that I was going to be angry with her for expressing this. She became totally overwhelmed and left, at which point I started telling mom off for putting so much stress on both of us and having no interest whatsoever in helping herself or considering the damage she has done to us over our entire lives. I mentioned how we had gone for family counselling when Gilly and I were young, and it only resulted in three of us talking about Mom's abuse and Mom trying to blame everybody else for everything. I talked about the counsellor asking Mom why she
was so focused on herself when her daughter was sitting there crying her eyes out because she was in so much emotional distress. Mom's response, then and also today, was "But look at all the stuff you've done to me." Lindsay looked sad to hear the extent of the dysfunction in our family, but didn't comment.

Mom tried to change the subject from cleaning to her wanting her TV fixed, and I stopped her and said we weren't there to discuss that. Lindsay asked if we were willing to go in and clean her room, and I said yes, but ONLY if Mom isn't present. If Mom's there she wants to tell us a story about every scrap of paper and piece of string, and won't let us throw things out. Initially Mom said no, but Lindsay convinced her that it was what needed to be done. Shin suggested that since Gilly's not available to help, that we ask our friend Shari to help us, and Mom pay her for her time. (Shari loves this kind of thing, and has done some work with Mom recently.) Mom reluctantly agreed. Lindsay said that if we let her know in advance what day we'll be there, she will make sure that Mom doesn't bother us. If Mom tries to interfere while we clean, Lindsay will forcibly remove her from the room. (Note: My mom is always saying nasty things about Lindsay, but we really like her and keep thanking her for being the enforcer so Mom focuses her rage on someone other than us. Lindsay is actually a really awesome person, with the patience of a saint!)

So the deal is that Mom has until the end of this weekend to remove as much as she can herself. Lindsay will inspect next week, and then if (when) she deems it still too messy, we will go in and clean the room ourselves for one or more days. On February 20, Lindsay will inspect again, and if it's still not good enough, Mom will have to pay a professional to finish the job before March 1. However, I am confident that we will be able to get it cleaned up well enough ourselves. We also said that Mom must start going to some kind of counselling again, as she hasn't in a couple of years and I figure she needs someone to monitor her mental state and her worries consistently. I also spoke to Lindsay on Monday and asked her to have the doctor examine Mom's medications to see if she might be manic from having too much. She has lost about 60 pounds in
recent months due to the care in the home, and last time she had a significant weight loss, she had a psychotic episode due to her medications not being reduced correspondingly.

At the end of the meeting, we took the empty boxes up to Mom's room. She had piled a whole bunch of ornaments and random crap on her bed last night, and then slept in her armchair. She claimed there were some boxes ready for us to take away, but we refused because they were just overflowing boxes of glass and ceramic items with no protective wrapping on them at all. Beside the bed, she had a whole box full of newspapers she had gathered for disposal, so I told her she had to wrap each piece and put them in boxes and close the boxes or we wouldn't take them. She had also taken her armchair and flipped it upside down, something she frequently did with the couch when we were kids. She would decide to "clean" the living room, and that meant flipping the couch and dumping off all the shit she'd piled on top of it, then taking a broom and sweeping the mounds of junk from behind and under the couch into the middle of the room. She would then upright the couch and fall asleep on it, and never finish the job. She could never understand that the stuff behind the couch was not what most needed to be cleaned, and that she should focus on the stuff on top of the couch and on the floor. This is characteristic of a person with frontal lobe brain damage, which she developed years ago due to her MS.

I came home and slept for the afternoon while Shin went off to work. Mom left me a message asking for more boxes. When I woke up, Shin came home so we went out together and got more boxes from the liquor store. We delivered those boxes and took away six neatly packed and sealed boxes for donation to the thrift store tomorrow. Mom insisted I take them to the Salvation Army store "because they're the best charity", but that shop is way out of the way and inconvenient for unloading the car into. Anyone who wants to purchase my mom's junk will be able to find it at Talize.

When we left the home, I texted Gilly to thank her for coming and let her know that her presence DID make a difference, even if it didn't feel like it did. I also wanted to make sure she knew I'm not angry with her for leaving or being unable to help with the cleanup. She was still doubtful about how helpful she was, but she's probably relieved to know I'm not planning to yell at her for leaving.

In Nibbler news, she is very active today and seems to be walking better, although still a bit awkwardly. She's very snuggly and was talking in my ear while I laid on the bed tonight.

My favourite picture of Nibbler, in her space pod. <3

Nibbler enjoying her therapeutic yogourt!
 

Update on Nibbler:

The vet says that she is definitely on her way out, but certainly seems to be not suffering and wanting to continue. She has some kind of abdominal tumour, which doesn't surprise me because her upper body has gotten thinner in recent months but her belly is a bit bulbous, slightly more on the right than the left side. After some discussion with the vet, I decided to take her offer of medication and see how she does. Since the antibiotic I've been using has been helping her, the vet gave me a stronger one to keep her on. She also prescribed a pain killer in case she's feeling any discomfort.

She's 100g, so somewhat underweight but not wasting away yet. I need to weigh her regularly and make sure she's not dropping a lot of weight suddenly. If she stops eating or shows any other major signs of distress, I can take her back at that point and it will only cost me $30 to have her put down. Today's appointment, including drugs, cost $117. Still not money I can really spare, but it's far better than paying $130 to have some stranger steal her into the cold and put her down without examination.

The vet was great, and told me I was doing all the right things.

I figure Nibbler is a little old lady, had a good long life. If she stops eating, she's telling me she's ready to go. I'll be ok with it when I know she's ready. For now, she's eating like a pig! She's 2 1/2 years old, which is like 80 for a hamster.

I am sitting here very frustrated in my thoughts. The Animal Control officer today was just doing his job, and he was polite and listened to me when he came over. I have no complaints about that. However, he made some very serious mistakes that concern me about his performance of his job.

1. He showed up with a cat cage to transport a hamster in. The holes in the cage were big enough that she could have crawled through. However, in her condition she likely would have gotten her head through ad then not been able to push her body through because one foot is not working properly. She could have strangled in transport.

2. He didn't see any problem with transporting a tiny animal without any insulation around her, in weather well below freezing. Even if his truck was warm already, the shock of the icy air hitting her directly as he walked across the parking lot could be enough to kill her. He clearly isn't aware that not only can her tiny body not hold heat, but hamsters are from Syria, and are suited only to warm temperatures. They can suffer if they have a draft in their cage indoors. Transporting her as he intended would have been as cruel as me leaving her on my back step to freeze.

3. As he was leaving, I suggested he wash his hands in my sink. He declined, saying he had hand sanitiser in the truck. I guess he's one of those people that believes alcohol gel will remove any traces of faeces, urine, blood, saliva, and hair that may have been on his hands from handling Nibbler. Knowing this upsets me, because he not only handled Nibbler and could easily have infected her with something, but he also touched Rocket as he came in the door, because Rocket was trying to escape into the hallway. I know Rocket is healthy, but who knows what stray and sick animals he's been handling throughout the day?

Unfortunately I didn't think to note his name, so I can't report him anonymously. I feel strongly that this needs to be reported, but I also don't want the Humane Society getting on my back when I just got them off my back.

I e-mailed a friend who works for the Humane Society but is on maternity leave right now. She responded:

"If you are concerned voice your concerns definitely. Do it diplomatically. Don't make it about complaining make it about having concerns and there shouldn't be any problems. They keep record of what officers go where so that's not a problem. Good luck and I'm glad nibbler is doing well."

I'll write a letter, mostly cut and paste of my above post.

My mom is SUCH A BITCH. We've been getting along so well for so long, and then her obsession with control and death and "punishing" me for not doing what she wants just came back out of the blue and totally blindsided me. Shin's out of town for a couple of days, so I woke Leslie and she kept me from having a full-on panic attack.

My mom was here 2 nights ago and Nibbler was bleeding badly from her bum again. She pooped out a big blood clot, but then pooped solid poos after and was OK. I gave her antibiotics and yogourt, and she's been better. This treatment has been very effective for these recurring issues over the last few months. I think this time it was caused by giving her a fresh carrot the night before. It seems to cause inflammation or something, so I won't give her carrots any more. Just the veggie puff treats and regular food. However Mom has been obsessed with trying to convince me to drown her since she saw the blood the other night.

At 2PM today Mom called me and said she reported me to the Humane Society for animal cruelty. I've been volunteering there for several years, and the last thing I want is for them to believe I'm an animal abuser!

I called the HS to explain, and the woman wouldn't let me get a word in edgeways. I finally broke in, explained that I have been caring for her and she's better, she's eating voraciously and drinking lots, walking around and cuddly. She demanded I take her in by 4PM for euthanasia, and I'd be billed $130! I said I didn't take her to the vet because it's $85 and I can't afford it. She said "Don't worry, we'll give you 35 days to pay it." As if that's any better!

So then I was trying to call my mom to demand she pay for it, but she was on the phone with her fucking asshole child molester brother for ages. Meanwhile, the HS called me again and was harassing me to take her in, saying they will just do it and I'll pay later.

I finally reached Mom, and she was yelling at me, and I yelled at her, and she said she wouldn't pay. "I can't afford it," she said, even though her income is more than mine and Shin's combined, and she recently spent several hundred dollars on catalogue orders (she gave them my e-mail address, so I get all these messages when she's ordering crap) and also just bought herself YET ANOTHER new coat, plus a had, gloves and purse to match, and then she bought two handbags because she liked the cats pictures on them and appliqued the pictures on to her coat. Yeah, bitch, don't tell me you can't pay when you're wasting your money on this shit.

I woke Leslie up and she was helping me call vets to see what could be done. All the time Nibbler was wiggling around snuggling into my bra, and I was crying all over her.

So there's the Farley Fund here, where they pay for vet care if you don't have money. However, they only pay a certain amount per vet clinic per year, and there are hardly any hamster vets around here. I reached one in Preston and they said they could see her on Monday afternoon, and they'd find out if they have any funding left to cover it.

So I made appointment, and then animal control showed up at my door. The guy had a kitten cage with him. _To take a hamster in. _ Holes big enough for her to walk through.

He asked to see Nibbler, and I reached into my boobs and pulled her out. She was freaked out and pooping all over me, solid, bloodless poops. He held her, looked at her, I showed him she ate. She wanted treats so badly she bit me when I pulled them away for a second!

I put her on the table, showed she was able to walk, although she has a draggy foot so she walked in circles. He called the vet clinic to confirm the appointment. He decided I know more about hamsters than he does (he thought they live 5 years, when it's really 2-3) and said since she doesn't look to be suffering and I have an appointment, he'd leave her with me.

I told him if I really truly thought she might be suffering, I'd put her down in a heartbeat, but she's not.

So I called my mom and had another fight with her, and all she wanted to talk about was her broken TV. She has no empathy for the distress she put me through.

Nibbler wouldn't have made it there, I don't think. Putting her in that big cage and carrying her out to the truck would have frozen her. She may have died from the cold before she got back to the shelter. Hamsters are from Syria, and they can't handle cold. If I have to transport her, I carry her inside my clothes. I do lots of research on hamster care, and also consult with a friend who has had hamsters for years.

My friends who have only known my mom since she got better are baffled. They are used to her being nice to me. I keep telling them she's bipolar, obsessive, and a control freak. She also has an obsession with euthanasia. A couple years ago, her cat was sick and she couldn't afford treatment, so she tried to have her put down. The vet and I worked hard to convince her to surrender Maria to the vet's care, and eventually she did. Maria took 5 months to get better (major GI condition) and was adopted by a responsible family who take excellent care of her, according the the vet's report. Mom still says she wishes Maria had been put down so she didn't wonder what happened to her.

She also tried to convince my uncle to pull the plug on their dad while he was in a medically-induced coma. She didn't understand that he was recovering. She's just totally obsessed with everything being disposable.

She's been obsessed with death for years. When someone talks about a deceased spouse, she asks "How old was he when he died?" She calls me from her seniors' home and reports on who died today. In Newmarket, one of her pastimes was going to funerals of people she only vaguely knew. When my dad died, she immediately threw out all his clothes, took his neatly-arranged drawer of financial documents and dumped them out of their envelopes into the recycling bin, and started cashing in her RRSPs. She couldn't wait to erase the sum of his life. The day Mom was here, she was updating her will (something she's wanted to to do for months) and also asked me to do Power of Attorney forms for her. When I asked her how she wanted the POA forms filled out (who to give POA to, whether Gilly and I should be jointly or severally responsible) Mom just said "Just divide everything evenly." When I told her that's not what POA was for, she said "Just don't keep me alive. If something happens, let me go." Those kinds of answers are typical for someone with her type of brain damage, because she doesn't fully process the question.