57: Frontotemporal Dementia Patient's Last Big Adventure

"Guess who's spending Christmas with us?" Matt announced as he walked in the door, his arms loaded with gifts and packages.
It's Christmas Eve and Matt just got home from work. He's got three bottles of wine, two cookie trays, a  couple of beautifully wrapped gift boxes, and a mysterious cardboard box that looks rather heavy for it's size. I take the cookies from him before they fall and he places everything down on the island countertop.
"Who? Who's spending Christmas with us?" I ask curiously.
Matt picks up the plain cardboard box and announces, "Frank!"
Matt had Frank cremated after his passing, but I never dreamed that he could then be mailed to us. I thought we would be taking one last, long trip back to South Mountain.
"That's Frank? Oh my gosh, get him off the countertop!" I was appalled that Frank's ashes were mingling with my Christmas treats.
"He can play Apples to Apples with us again." I suggested.
Matt said, "He'll probably win again too!"

Frank spent Christmas on top of the breakfront overlooking our Christmas dinner, spending it with us in a way. Honestly though, now that his spirit is free, I know he's not with us. If he could be anywhere right now, I know he's with Frances and Eric. After Terry passed away, I felt an odd presence for a few days. I admitted to Matt that I felt that Terry stayed with us for a time after she passed away and he said he also felt her. He said he knew even before the hospital called us that she had passed. He felt a breeze near his face a few minutes before the phone rang and he felt that it was her saying goodbye. Even my son Brett felt that he had an encounter with her spirit. I don't feel anything with Frank though and Matt says he doesn't either. But I still don't want him hanging around my house for long after the holidays.

"What are your plans for Frank?" I ask Matt after New Year and all the decorations have been cleaned up.
"I'm not sure yet." Matt answers.
"I think we should take him back to his home. That's where he would want to be the most." I said

"I think I might go to Ocean City, take out a boat and sprinkle him in the ocean. I'll call my brothers and see when they can make it." Matt seems like he's already thought it out in his head. Of course, I immediately think of the scene from "The Big Lebowski" when Walter and The Dude sprinkle Donny's ashes in the Pacific Ocean "that he loved so well" but the wind picks up and the ashes land all over them. I keep it to myself though. I'm sure it will be a good family outing, giving them all closure in sending Frank off to his last big adventure.

56: Final Outcome for FTD Patient

Frank lingered for about a year at South Mountain. Once, when we visited I thought he may have reached out for Matt, but it was hard to tell if there was any intention to the slight movement. The last time Matt and I visited him, we stood in his room awkwardly, wondering what to do or say until Matt finally said, "I'm going to go speak to the nurse."
I replied, "Go ahead, I'll stay here and keep Frank company."
I began chatting away about family members, dropping names that would be familiar to Frank and filling him in on the latest accomplishments of the children. There was no apparent reaction, just vacant eyes staring into space, but I continued on the chance that he could hear my voice. Soon, I had a visitor. One of the other residents, a very tall middle-aged man, came into the room. I said hello, but he didn't say anything, he just stood behind me in the corner of the room and listened too. I was a little disconcerted at the expression on his face, which seemed slightly cross, but I tried to include him, even though he didn't know who I was talking about. A few minutes later a woman, about sixty years-old peered into the room at us. She looked angry and impatient at me, like she was wondering when I was going to go home and leave them alone. She continued to pace outside the room in the hallway, but checked in on us from time to time. If she had a watch, I think she would have been checking it. Next, a handsome, friendly older gentleman came in smiling. He walked right up and stood beside me, shoulder to shoulder at Frank's bedside. I looked at him and said "Hello, do you know Frank?  I'm his sister-in-law" The man smiled back at me and mumbled something I didn't understand. He looked at Frank and made a sad expression and mumbled something unintelligible, but with an appropriate somber tone for the condition that Frank was in; extremely thin with contorted limbs. I continued with my long-winded speech about our current events as the man stood next to me, arms folded, nodding his head and smiling, looking from me to Frank, like he understood what I was saying, but I don't think he did at all.  All this time, the tall gentleman stood behind us in the corner, maybe just curious at this new stranger, but not able or willing to participate, and the impatient woman lingering a few seconds at a time in the doorway.

When Matt finally returned from speaking with the nurse, he found the crowd I had congregated in Frank's room and had to squeeze past the angry woman in the doorway. He looked at me quizzically, like "What in the world is going on here?" He said, "Boy, I just left you alone for a minute!"  Truthfully, I was glad he was back because I was a little nervous about the tall man. I introduced Matt to my new friend beside me. "This is my husband, Matt. He's Frank's brother." He smiled at nodded at Matt. We said our goodbyes to everyone, but I almost felt bad leaving them. They seemed so eager to have someone new visit. I knew this would be my last visit.  Frank was so gaunt and pale, it was clear he wouldn't be with us much longer. I kept it to myself though, I knew Matt wouldn't want to hear my dire prediction.

Outside, it was a perfect, beautiful sunny October day. The leaves were beginning to change colors to vibrant oranges and yellows. Matt and I took the self-guided driving tour around the Gettysburg landmarks and took a walk through the path on the battlefield, eventually making our way to Little Round Top where the view is spectacular. Especially on this brilliant clear day, where the leaves are in a colorful blaze of glory just before they burn out and fall.

Frank has fought his battles too.  His divorce, the struggle to maintain a relationship with the children he cherished who turned their backs on him, and the anguish over losing them, his legal issues, and his battle for his health for seven years, have all been formidable foes. He finally surrendered in December, just before Christmas. A nurse called and said Frank's breathing was labored and she didn't think he would make it through the night. I had noticed a rumbling in his chest when I was there in October and I knew it wasn't a good sign. He wouldn't be strong enough to clear any fluid in his lungs and it would eventually turn into pneumonia. Only an hour later they called to say that Frank had passed. He was 53 years old.  Matt and his brother had just visited a final time just a week before, but still he was surprised to hear. Matt, as always, still expecting the best case scenario will be the outcome.

55: Hospital Attempts to Send FTD Sufferer to Jail

We failed to get any spousal support from Frank's wife to help pay for a private nursing home. This unfortunately left Frank in the hospital with no therapy and very little human contact beyond feeding and changing diapers. We tried to have him moved to a hospital near us but since FTD does not require medical care, no hospital could admit him. The social worker at the hospital wasn't helping at all and finally the hospital administrators became frustrated with their situation. They couldn't help Frank, he did not require medical treatments, so they couldn't bill Medicare for anything. They felt Frank was a losing proposition for them in a time when many hospitals are desperately crunching numbers. They sent a letter to the district attorney and the judge in his criminal case from the alleged violation of the PFA Kat had against him. They stated that they could no longer care for him and requested that the judge transfer him back to prison. It's unbelievable that a hospital would make this request knowing that a prison is ill-equipped to care for a dementia sufferer. As a matter of fact, Frank was very near death from malnourishment when he left jail. Thankfully the warden refused to accept him back, knowing that he would debilitate further if admitted back to the prison, even in their hospital ward.

This close call made us finally realize that we had to make a tough choice. We had to make a decision to do not what was the best for Frank, but the best we could do for him. This meant looking further away for his care, to a place that we could not visit often. In the course of my job,  I knew of a nursing home owned and operated by the state of Pennsylvania called South Mountain Restoration Center. They take difficult cases like people with mental illness that many other nursing homes do not accept. The good thing is they take Medicare, so it wouldn't cost any more than what Frank had. They also have a good reputation for providing proper care and treatment. The bad thing is that it's a three hour drive from our home, which turns into a six hour drive when you make a round-trip. With working and taking care of our family, this will limit our ability to see Frank as often as we had been, which was once or twice a week.

Watching Frank waste away in the hospital was difficult, with the pressure from the hospital to discharge him, we knew we had to make this sacrifice. Matt called the hospital social worker and asked her to call South Mountain to see if they would consider admitting him. She had never heard of it, which is surprising since it's the only nursing home in the entire state that is run by the state, but she agreed to try.  By the end of the day we had our answer; they had an open bed and they would accept Frank. He was to be transferred via ambulance by the end of the week.

It was bittersweet. We knew we were doing the best thing we could do for Frank, but it was sad knowing that he would be so far away. Frank didn't know what was happening and didn't seem to comprehend any communication. Still one wonders if he can hear and understand but can't express the acknowledgement.

The social worker from South Mountain called Matt to introduce himself and let us know that Frank was doing great and getting used to the place. They go for walks outside on the grounds and have group therapy and physical therapy to try to regain some strength. He says that they will call and include Matt in the monthly team meeting so Matt can be part of the team planning Frank's care and treatment. The psychiatrist also called to introduce himself and asked for information about Frank and the progression of his disease and his former life. We're very impressed at the level of communication and the concern they have for giving Frank the best treatment they can provide for him. Matt creates a scrapbook of Frank's life. Starting with a family picture from when they were young, football pictures throughout the years, Frank in his trendy mauve tuxedo at the senior prom flashing those dapper dimples, then a few pictures of Frank and his children. We wanted the staff to know that this is the Frank that we know; he's handsome and athletic and a family man, he's not this shell that's left.

Matt arranged a road trip with his brothers to go visit Frank about a month after he was admitted. They meet at our house before starting out on the three hour trip. They stop and have lunch in Gettysburg, just outside of South Mountain, before driving up the windy, hilly road toward the nursing home.

South Mountain Restoration Center is a grand old piece of 1930s architecture built at the top of the Blue Ridge Mountains with beautiful scenery as far as you can see. They go in through the heavy doors and into the white carrera marble clad foyer. The security guard gives them directions on how to find Frank's room. They find Frank sitting in the dayhall in a comfortable geri-chair. They call out to him but he doesn't respond or react. The brothers pretend nothing is wrong and pick Frank up by the arms and walk around the halls with him, helping him along the corridor in a slow procession trying to pretend that nothing has changed. They're cracking jokes and laughing like they would have done ten years ago, before life changed for Frank. Poop falls unexpectedly from beneath Frank's robe onto the floor, which send them all into fits of laughter. Often in times of stress, humor is the way people arm themselves to prevent the reality of the situation from knocking them down. Many years ago when my great-aunt, my grandmother's sister, died we had a similar reaction. She was a very sweet, kind woman and lived a few houses down the street from us when we were growing up. She unexpectedly passed away, and it was very sad. At the funeral mass I sat next to my sister, and while we were very sad, one of us made a comment about going across the street to get water ice at Marcy's Water Ice and somehow, it sent us both into fits of hysterical, silent laughter that we couldn't stop. We were convulsing in laughter with tears streaming down our faces at the silly thought of getting some of that delicious icy treat during the funeral. Finally, my brother left his seat two pews in front of us to come back and reprimand us for our inappropriate behavior. We told him what was so funny, and instead of putting an end to our silliness, he started laughing too and in the end all three of us had to leave the church and go outside for fear of laughing out loud. I don't know why, but it seems things that are mildly funny any other place are really hysterical in church, or any other place that is not supposed to be funny, like a nursing home.

President & Mrs. Eisenhower

The battle of South Mountain was fought in September, 1862 as General McClellan closed in on General Lee. The Battle of Gettysburg was fought in July, 1863. For those interested in military strategy, Gettysburg is a fascinating, yet sad place.  A best-selling book called "The Killer Angels" was written about the Battle of Gettysburg and a movie starring Jeff Daniels was made based on this book. This is also, of course, the place of Lincoln's famous Gettysburg Address. Another little known fact is that after he left office, President Eisenhower retired in Gettysburg to his farm right on the battlefield that he had purchased in 1950. He hosted many international dignitaries showing off his prized Black Angus cattle to people such as Nikita Khrushchev, Charles DeGaulle, Winston Churchill and Ronald Reagan. His home is now kept as a museum. It is a quaint little town and a huge tourist attraction for civil war buffs, especially in the summer for the re-enactment of the battle.

Visiting Frank was tedious, but Matt planned to make the trip as often as possible. Being able to tour Gettysburg added a small reward for the long drive.

54: Courtroom Drama II

It seemed as if Mulva Fargo and the judge had been conspiring before we got there. The first thing Fargo said was "The Plaintiff has no guardian judge, so we can't move forward with his petitiion."
Before the judge could speak, Angelo pulls the document out from our county courthouse that appointed Matt guardian for Frank.
"The plaintiff's brother has been appointed full guardian" Angelo states as he shows the judge the document.
There is stunned silence. The judge and Fargo peer at the paper with their mouths open like it's a genie that just popped out of a bottle. 'Uh,  uhh, I don't think we can accept this. It's not from Delaware County." The judge finally speaks an octave higher than her normal speaking voice.
"That's right judge, we can't accept a ruling from Montgomery County." Fargo parrots the judge and she says "Montgomery County" with disdain like only cretins are from Montgomery County.

"There is no jurisdiction on guardianship." Tom DiLiberto offers.
The judge knows he's right, but she just had to let this sink in a moment. She and Fargo did not plan on actually having to move forward on this case. They had no idea that Matt would obtain guardianship. Their plan was to halt all proceedings for lack of guardian even though she finalized the divorce without one.

Tom DiLiberto took control from here. He cut through all the bickering and told them what he wanted for Frank; half of Kat's retirement account. It is to be examined by an expert in pension valuations and a number determined. This new attorney is so professional and competent, everyone is mesmerized by him and instantly agrees to everything he says. He's like a legal Svengali. He made a simple, professional argument and didn't waver off his path with petty remarks and side comments. If I had to offer advice to anyone with legal issues, it's to ask around and hire the most well-respected, competent attorney you can afford because in the long run, it will be well worth it in speed of settlement of your case.  Fargo was taking advantage of her position in the courthouse causing Angelo to chase his tail, taking up time and money. The emotional toll on our family, including Angelo, has been huge. We wanted to help Angelo get back into practicing law and at the same time help Frank. It seemed it would be helpful to have someone that knew us take on the case, but we found out it wasn't so. Angelo was too emotionally invested to be effective and he just didn't have the experience to leave his emotions out of the case and ended up giving Frank an enormous bill for his legal service. He worked on the case morning until night, often spending hours at the library doing research. He claims he had to turn down other work to address Fargo's constant filings. Angelo is so angry now that he no longer speaks to us because Frank could only pay a small fraction of the very large bill he handed us. The difference between Angelo and Tom side by side was very apparent, Angelo stood to the side of the proceedings like a third wheel on a blind date. Even he knew he was out of his league and all he could do was observe how it's done.

Tom and Angelo left the judge's chambers with a verbal settlement agreement. He had to sell it to us now. Matt and I and his brother were ushered into a conference room. The judicial candidate asked if she could come too and we were happy to have her in case we needed an impartial opinion. We wanted alimony from Kat to help Frank find a nice nursing home. The first thing Tom said is "You're not going to get alimony. They don't do alimony in Delaware County and if you did get it, the most you would get is $200 per month. That's not going to help anything, so you need to get this idea out of your head. I'm not going after Fargo either. I'm not going to attack another attorney, so that's not happening. (This may have been a swipe at Angelo and his gutter attacks on all three involved attorneys) We've reached a settlement agreement, we're going to split her retirement in half. It's a good offer and they've agreed to it, I think you should accept it."

We were disappointed that he wouldn't even try for the alimony. This is not your typical divorce; this man actually needs to be supported. I tried to argue our case but Tom interrupted me. "You will not get alimony, the judge will not order it. You need to let that go. This is the best you can do for your brother and also the best thing for you too so you can finally settle this. I can argue it for you but it will go on another year. Is that what you want?"

I look around the room at Vince, Matt, the judicial candidate, and they're all looking back at me, so I speak up. "She should have to support him. She's gotten everything. The kids, the house, the money, all their stuff  . . . everything. She's sitting there all fat on top of the pile of their lives. Frank's gotten nothing. I think it's time she gave something back."
Vince looks at me and says, "Thank you Susie."
I'm a little fired up, so all I can do is nod at him.
Tom answers me, "It's not always about what's fair, or what's right. Sometimes it's just the best we can do."
I look at the judicial candidate, and she looks back at me sadly with a nod of resignation. "He's right, take the deal." she says.

Just then the door to the conference room opens and there's a woman standing in the doorway. She looks as if she's about to say something, because her mouth is open, but she's not saying anything. I think she's incredibly rude for interrupting us and finally I say to her, "Yes? Can we help you?"
Her mouth engages with her brain and she finally stammers, "Are we ready to continue?"
Tom answers, "Yes Judge, we'll be out in a moment."

I guess if I had looked her up online I would have known it was the infamous judge, but I had no idea and she certainly didn't fit my imagination of what she would look like. Delaware County seems to have this weird fashion time warp. She looked like she was straight out of the late seventies, with a bad Farrah Fawcett hairdo and sparkly blue eye shadow. I thought maybe she was a secretary who needed the conference room for carrying on her affair with the married bailiff. Once I knew who she was I was a little embarrassed that I spoke to her in that tone. We all noted that something threw her off when she opened the door. She was about to speak but couldn't get the words out. It was something she didn't expect. I think it must have been our judicial candidate. She was sitting directly opposite the door and would have been the first person the judge saw when she opened the door. It was an interesting and perplexing reaction.

"So, do we have an agreement?" Tom asks the room.
Matt speaks up, "Yes, I'm a little disappointed, but if that's the best we can do, then we'll take it."
"You've made the right decision." Tom replies. "Let's go tell them."

We walk out of the conference room and find the judge at her desk, and Kat and Fargo at theirs. I had no idea that they were all right outside of our room and I'm wondering if they just heard all that just transpired.  We had to file past everyone to get back to our seats, I feel their eyes on us and I feel like I'm in a weird parade.  The bailiff calls court to order and we all have to stand.

The judge goes over the agreement and asks both attorneys if they agree, which they do.  At the end, Fargo asks if she can make a statement. She and her attorney stand up while she reads this long speech about how she will not be held accountable for any malpractice, no one can sue her for acting improperly, and such. Matt and I look at each other in shock at this bombshell. I'm looking at Angelo and waiting for him to say something. He's just sitting there staring straight ahead like a zombie. I feel like jumping up and objecting, but I have to guess that Angelo knows what he's doing. Fargo finishes absolving herself of any wrongdoing and the judge bangs her gavel to finalize the proceedings.

As professional as he was during court, Tom's exit has to be the most unexpected, unprofessional exit I could have expected. He's the first out of the room; at the bang of the gavel he jumped up and hurdled over the railing into the spectator section, then ran out of the courtroom like a plaid-clad super-hero on his way to solve his next case. It wouldn't have been so amusing if he didn't have on that trendy plaid suit, but the total picture gives everyone some unexpected comic relief.

Matt, Vince, Angelo and I go out to lunch afterward. We're sitting in a booth at a local seafood restaurant discussing the case. I say, "What was with that speech Fargo made?"
Matt answers, "I know, I couldn't believe it!"
Angelo asks, "What speech?"
"You didn't hear her? She made a long speech about how she's not accountable for anything she did." I respond.
"No, I didn't hear it." Angelo states simply.
Matt and I give each other another glance. We can speak without saying words, but we'll talk about this later. How could he have missed it? Where was his mind while she was orating for several minutes absolving herself of any wrongdoing after he's been accusing her of nothing but wrongs since he's been involved in the case?

We just hope that this is finally the end and we can all move on. Frank's needs are what is important to us at this moment and we need to get back to focusing on this and not Kat's drama club. There's nothing but drama surrounding this family though.

53: Courtroom Drama I

Our day in court finally arrived. We awoke early, but it wasn't hard because I was so nervous I was up well before my alarm went off. I fretted over what to wear. I thought I should dress conservatively for court. I also thought we should make a good impression on the judge, especially after the newspaper article accused them all of misconduct. Matt and his brother wore the usual guy outfit, blazer, shirt and tie. I chose a flattering black pencil skirt and a black three-quarter sleeve cardigan sweater with pearls. I even had extra time to style my hair in cute, loose waves.

Angelo insisted we be there thirty minutes early. We stopped off at Tom DiLiberto's office but he never came out to the waiting room. We didn't get to meet him until he arrived at the courthouse. We went through a metal detector and found our way to the assigned courtroom. Domestic Court looks like the set of Judge Judy. There's the largest desk for the judge, two slightly smaller desks for the defendant and plaintiff, and a railing with three rows of chairs behind it. Matt and I, his brother and his aunt and uncle take a seat behind the desk that Angelo settled into on the left side of the room and wait for everyone to arrive. First Nicholas Zinc arrives with his own attorney. He offers to testify that Fargo never offered him interrogatories and that she also threatened to have Frank arrested for violating the PFA if we didn't finalize the divorce and drop our request for alimony, but only if we promise not to hold him liable for any negligence on his part. He holds out a paper for Angelo to sign. I'm fine with this but Angelo won't sign; he wants to leave his option open to sue Zinc later. So before court even starts we have our first drama. Nicholas' lawyer says "Then we're out of here. Let's go". They abruptly get up and stalk off. Next in walks a wild-haired tramp with a too tight skirt and blouse. She traipsed in a circle around the courtroom on wobbly heels like a ring-girl in a boxing match, then announced to the two bailiffs off to the side, "I don't even know why I'm here." and she exits. I guess that this is Frank's second attorney Tammy from the hot dog cart. Another woman passes her in the doorway. I recognize her from her campaign posters. She's a Democratic candidate running for judge. I walk over and introduce myself to her and thank her for coming. She tells me that she was a nurse before she was a lawyer so she is particularly interested in this case. She took time from campaigning at the train station to come over and observe the proceedings today. She's the one who told me that a Democrat hasn't been elected to Delaware County Court since the year 1790, or something like that, so she's not really expecting to win, but I told her that I would help if there was anything I could do. The reporter who wrote the article sticks his head in the door. He looks around, waves at us and goes back out again. The next arrival is Tom DiLiberto. He's not what I expected and he doesn't look like a former federal agent. He's a thin wiry guy with receding hair slicked straight back and shiny. Even more striking than his hair was his suit. It was a gigantic plaid print, on the jacket and pants and it was very slim fitting. It wouldn't have been so bad if it were just the jacket or just the pants but on both it was too much pattern. He made a very striking appearance, but not at all what I thought a former federal agent would wear to court.

Matt and I were looking to buy a house in Philadelphia a few months ago. My two older sons are in college there and we thought we would buy them a house to live in rather than pay someone else rent. We had several appointments scheduled for a Saturday afternoon. The first house was a lock box so we just walked in, looked around and left. The second house was occupied so the realtor rang the doorbell but no one answered. She rang again and still no one came to the door. Finally, the realtor called the owner to tell her that we were outside. We could hear the conversation from the realtor's side, "Hey, this is Emily, are you home? We had an appointment to show your house? . . . oh, uh, . . . really? No, he's okay . . . okay bye."  Emily the realtor turns to us and says, "they're home but they didn't want to let us in because they think Matt looks like a fed." The door opens and a woman is standing there. She looks apologetic, "I'm sorry, come on in." We walk around with Emily and quickly decide this cluttered, ninety year old house isn't for us, but we stop to chat with the owners on our way out the door. There's a large dog cage on the floor of the front room and there's a baby running around. She said the baby loves sitting inside the cage and laughed and explained that strangers might think she's keeping her baby inside the cage. We all laugh and it becomes an ice breaker. The man, who was a little paranoid a few minutes ago, opens up and tells us that he's the third generation of his family to live in the house. His great grandfather bought the house when the trolley still ran up and down the street. He told us that one day his great-grandfather got drunk and passed out in the middle of the street and when the trolley came by it drove over him and cut off his legs. It must have been the way he told the story, but we all laughed. It seemed funny at the moment, but I felt a little embarrassed later that we laughed at a man getting his legs cut off by a trolley. Matt looks more like a fed than the actual fed, so I guess you can't tell a book by it's cover.

"Paulie Walnuts"

The courtroom door opens again.  In walks Kat looking more heavy but with the same dark helmet lady-mullet hairdo that she had twenty years ago when I met her, now there's a little gray on the sides which gives her a "Paulie Walnuts" kind of look. Right behind her is Mulva Fargo wheeling in a hand cart loaded with three large document boxes, another woman is behind her also with a handcart full of boxes. Obviously, this is to lend more drama to this sideshow.

The judge shuts this circus down before it even begins. A woman comes in and says to the attorneys, "Judge would like to see you in her chambers." Angelo, Tom and Fargo exit the courtroom leaving just us spectators behind. We've got a party on our side of the courtroom with family and our new friend the judicial candidate. Kat is on the other side all by herself, sitting there staring straight ahead. This morning one of the things I was worried about is if I should say hello to her. She gave me my answer by not even looking my way once. I felt a bit sorry for her today though. Just a few years ago she would have been next to me laughing and talking too, part of the group. It's sad that she's taken this low road of turmoil and subversiveness.


                                                     

52: Cracking Under Pressure

"Susie, why did you have to get poor Angelo involved in this mess?"  Betty, Angelo's wife, called me a few days after the article hit. "You know he can't handle this pressure." Betty was worried about Angelo's state of mind. He had given up practicing law these last ten years or so in favor of real estate. Handling people's problems, like lawyers do, is not for everyone. If someone cannot wall off the job from their real lives, or operate unemotionally they may become troubled. Actually, I was getting worried about Angelo too. The enormity of Frank's problems combined with his severely declining health, the unbelievably uncaring attitude of not only the court, the hospital and the community, but of his family also, have all combined to make us all incredulous at the cold, callousness of the human race, in particular when it involves money. It is said that money is at the root of evil for many people, but it seemed Frank's family and his wife's attorney in particular.

Angelo was calling me several times a day to rant about his pressures. He was also calling Matt at work constantly. Matt has a stressful, high pressure job and needs to be able to concentrate. I tried to tell Angelo that even I don't call Matt unless it's important. This didn't stop him from calling Matt several times a day. Even when Matt would try to explain to him that he couldn't talk at that moment, Angelo would become offended, thinking that Matt was not respecting his time, and would continue his ranting anyway. Even Matt's co-workers were complaining about Angelo's constant disruptions at work. He was ruminating on the case; how he wished he hadn't taken the case on,  how he hated Fargo, and how the judge was conspiring against us, how he wished he could trade places with Frank and just mentally disappear.  He was becoming paranoid about everyone, including Matt and me, and he began turning my own parents against me. Angelo needed to be able to put it all away and only deal with it when he needed to; that's what lawyers do. He wasn't putting the case away when he wasn't working on it, he was thinking about it constantly and everything became personal. He began talking about the bill and how much the case was costing him, professionally and personally. He claimed he couldn't take on new cases because this one was taking so much of his time. Every time he brought it up, it was some skyrocketing amount even though he knew Frank was destitute. Angelo became so irrational that I began suspecting either drug abuse or a personality disorder. Even my children began complaining about the constant deliberations in our home. I found myself hoping that Angelo wasn't going to drop by, because his behavior was becoming emotionally overwhelming. Every thought that entered his head became our emergency and must be acted on immediately. The stress was affecting everyone, which permanently damaged our relationship.

"I'm so sorry Betty, I had no idea it would come to all this." I apologized. If I had known it would become this complicated I never would have allowed him to get involved. I think we need some reinforcements. We're hiring another attorney to help Angelo." Matt and I knew that Angelo was in over his head on this. A divorce should not be this complicated, or continue for six years when there are no assets to fight over, and Angelo was becoming increasingly paranoid. At Angelo's insistence, Matt called an associate who was a federal agent. He told her about what was going on at the courthouse. Local government corruption wasn't really her thing, she investigates drug rings, but she recommended an attorney in Delaware County who was a former federal agent, Tom DiLiberto. A local attorney that the judge was familiar with could also help even things up for us. Matt called him, told him why we needed him, and asked him to go to court with Angelo. Angelo sent over the load of briefs and filings that had been exchanged up to this point. We never even met with him before our day in court, but he inspired confidence with his direct and efficient demeanor.

Our day in court was coming up soon; three weeks from the day the article was in the paper. Angelo began sending out subpoenas. Fargo claims that she answered interrogatories about the divorce. Interrogatories are questions that each party are supposed to answer about themselves and mostly about their finances. Fargo refused to allow Kat to answer any new interrogatories, claiming that it was done already six years ago, but she wouldn't let us see them because they were in storage. Nicholas Zinc told us that there were no interrogatories done so we knew that she was lying again. Then she said that Tammy Cavalier had them. Angelo subpoenaed Nicholas and Tammy Cavalier to get their testimony about the missing interrogatories, so then she said that they were lost.

Angelo, Matt and I were still looking at all angles to gain us some psychological ground with Fargo and the judge. Since it was mid-October, election day was right around the corner. We called every candidate running for judge in Delaware County to point out our article in the newspaper and offer our support if any of them would like to use the court's misjudgments in Frank's case against them. We got three call-backs that showed interest in our case. What it was going to amount to, I wasn't sure. There hasn't been a Democrat judge elected to Delaware County Court since the year 1789, or something like that. I'm not sure if Frank could change that, but if any of them wanted to give it a go, we were offering our support. We were trying to get a packed courthouse to show support for Frank. I was counting on these few candidates to show up, the reporter, one of Frank's brothers, and their aunt and uncle. I envisioned the aunt sniffling into a lace hanky and me comforting her with an arm around her shoulder. I thought maybe someone could make audible huffing sounds when Kat testified. I was actually worried for Angelo that they would charge him with contempt of court to punish him for the article. Angelo had us so paranoid, I didn't put anything past these people.

Meanwhile, Frank was still in the hospital. They weren't using the restraints as often because we complained to everyone in the hospital. They had to have extra staff to take care of him. We often saw someone in there feeding him or helping him walk in the hallway. That was the best they could offer though. He needed nursing home care with activities and therapy. The social worker at the hospital hadn't been able to find a place for him yet, but at least the hospital seemed to have a better attitude toward Frank's care.

51: Frank Hits the Print

"Susie, did you see it?" Angelo called me, shouting into the phone, first thing in the morning.
"See what?" I ask.
"The article, it's up." Angelo is excited beyond words. "I wish I could be a fly on the wall at that courthouse today."
I was just walking into work. "You're kidding, oh my gosh!" I had butterflies in my stomach all of a sudden. It's a scary thing to go public. We were opening ourselves up for scrutiny and airing our dirty laundry for all to see. Also, I didn't know if the judge would retaliate against me or Frank in some way, it was a risk I felt we had to take. I threw my purse down on my chair and started up my computer. After waiting a couple weeks for this article, I had kind of forgotten about it. It didn't hit the paper as fast as I thought it would, so I was wondering if the reporter had changed his mind. Maybe he was just waiting for a slow news day. Either way, he didn't warn me that it was coming. He never contacted me again, even after I sent him a thank you email for showing concern for our plight. I guess because it wasn't personal, he's just doing his job, and moving on to the next story.

The article starts out describing his visit to the hospital. He said that he told Frank that his sister-in-law sent him, but Frank looked at him with incomprehension as if he was trying to figure out if he was a person or a thing. Then he described his physical appearance, thin and pale. Next he says that Frank has Frontotemporal Dementia, an incurable and progressive disease. That's all he says about it, but if the FTD Association had collaborated on the article, it could have been more, and this will haunt us. He goes on to call the judge out by name for finalizing the divorce while Frank was in prison and unrepresented in court and he says that Fargo is "alleged to have engaged in an unethical conspiracy to deny this patient his rights." He also calls Kat out for having an affair with another man. So we pretty much covered all the players, and now they all have a reason to hate me.

By 10am there are comments posted on the article. The very first comment muses that Frank must have been an alcoholic, because no one ever has dementia at age 51. This upsets me, especially that it's the first comment and anyone reading it will be influenced by this one thing. I call my contact at the AFTD again to see if they'll change their mind about getting involved now that the public thinks that FTD is from alcohol abuse. I plead with him to post a comment from AFTD to dispel this myth officially. Again, the director feels that it goes against their mission to educate the public about FTD by educating the public about Frank's FTD. She says that she can give me information and I can post it myself. This causes me to fire off a nasty email to her:

I'm sorry that you feel this way. It's a wonderful time to comment on the misconceptions that occur with this tragic disease. The first comment to post on the article felt that he must be an alcoholic to have dementia at age 51. This deeply offends me and I felt that your organization should be the ones to set things straight. If I post, it seems that I'm only defending Frank because we're related.

I am deeply disappointed that you do not feel, as I do, that this would be a great time to make the public aware of AFD. You have no idea how long it took us to find a diagnosis for Frank. Most people have never heard of someone so young with dementia. He had been to a psychiatrist, psychologist, neurologist, general practitioner and finally a three week stay in a hospital psych ward before we finally knew what was wrong.

You could have made a difference for so many people experiencing this same thing. I'm sorry that you are not the advocates you claim to be. Keep your pamphlets, because by the time someone needs them, they already know all they need to know the hard way.

The issue is debated all day about whether Frank was an abuser or not, how men are treated unfairly in divorce, someone posted a nice message about being a caregiver. There were many comments that were extremely personal. One said that they knew Frank and he was abusive, one said that since my children went to private school that I should be able to afford to take care of him and gave out personal information about us. It was quite obvious that the Green family were posting up a storm. I didn't want to get involved in fighting in an online forum so I restrained myself from responding, which I'm sure drove Kat nuts. Right before I went to bed I checked the comment section one more time to see if there was anything new and there was one last comment posted at 11:00pm. It said that Frank should "kill himself like his mother did". This one actually frightened me with the hate and viciousness. I reached for the mouse and clicked off the web page as fast as I could, as if a snake had just popped out of the screen. This is not information that anyone knows about us and could only have come from Kat or Little Dick (see entry 18). I went upstairs to tell Matt that I think he should see it and by the time he came downstairs and we logged back on to the article, the comment had been removed by the newspaper. Matt was concerned enough to call the reporter the next day and he expressed shock at the horrible comment and said he was sorry we saw it and that he removed it right away. Matt told the reporter, "Well, now you know what we've been dealing with. The Greens are trash. Frank wanted to get married and he married the first thing that came along, to his detriment."

Speaking to a reporter about a very personal issue was a difficult thing to do; it goes against my nature to draw attention. We were outraged at what was perceived by us as the judge, lawyer and courthouse employees working in concert against us, and I was grasping at anything I could think of. I believe that calling into question the groups integrity forced the judge, who had only been on the bench for two years,  to realize that she needed to end this game that she was letting her girlfriend, Fargo, get away with and get serious about the job that she was elected to do.

50: Publicity for Frank's Case and FTD

"This shit is starting to piss me off." I'm not usually like this, but this is getting ridiculous.
Frank is lying in a hospital tied down to the bed 23 hours a day, I think he knows Matt, but I don't think he knows anyone else There's no place to put him that accepts Medicare around here. We've tried. The social worker for the hospital is calling us every few days to see how our search is going. Almost as if she hasn't tried anywhere herself. Every time Matt asked if she tried different places, she acted like she hadn't thought of that one yet. These are places in a 30 mile radius that she hasn't tried; we're wondering just what it is that she does. She speaks the lingo they may be looking for and we don't, so we have to push her to call. She just wants to put pressure on us to figure it out. The hospital administration is putting pressure on her to get rid of Frank. They can't help him and he's costing them money now because Medicare stopped payment for him.

It's July, we were supposed to have our "emergency" hearing for spousal support for Frank that we tried to schedule in February. The woman in Domestic Relations at the courthouse must either really hate Frank or really love Fargo. The hearing we asked for in February was scheduled for April, but that got cancelled by Fargo and rescheduled for July. Now, Fargo says she has a "medical procedure" and it's been re-re-scheduled for October. I guess Delaware County's idea of an emergency is different from ours. From being tied to the bed all day, Frank can no longer walk without assistance. Matt pointed out to the nursing director that there are regulations regarding restraining a patient, she thought that if it was for his safety that she could just keep him tied up all day. They explain that they don't have the staff to take him to the bathroom and feed him all day, so they put him in diapers and put a tube in his stomach to feed him from a bottle. Complaining to the judge in our case does absolutely no good, she couldn't care less, and she let Fargo get away with canceling another hearing. It's inhumane, and I'm getting quite angry.

I called the Disability Rights Network to complain about the treatment we are receiving by the courthouse. Maybe we're doing something wrong, because this doesn't seem right. They do actually listen to Frank's story and call me back two days later to say that they can't take his case. They can only take on so many cases and this one doesn't meet their criteria. I call the ACLU next, they listen to my story, but are not interested. I call the Association for Frontotemporal Dementia. They listen to my story,  but decline to get involved. They tell me that they really only do education, like giving out information to patients and caregivers. I explain that Frank still has DUI charges pending because he couldn't follow the series of instructions the officer gave Frank to test for DUI. Despite having no alcohol or drugs in his system they refuse to drop the charges. If they want to give education, how about giving education to the police forces in the area about dementia and how it can be mistaken for DUI. No, they can't do that either. This truly disappoints me because they could have really made a difference just with this one topic. But they tell me that they can give me some information if I want it. I politely decline. I called the Alzheimer's Association and tell them Frank's story. They don't advocate, they just give out information they explain to me.

"Okay, now why do they do all this fundraising if they don't actually do anything?" I ask Angelo.
"I guess to pay for all those pamphlets they give out." Angelo offers. "Susie, maybe if we get a reporter interested in the story, you know, shed a little light on the case, the judge will feel some pressure to stop siding with her girlfriend Fargo."
"Well, I've made so many calls already, what's a few more." I agree.

I start with the Philadelphia Inquirer and Daily News. I send emails with this crazy story to every reporter listed on the web site. I'm sure they get tons of people thinking they have a story. I don't get even one reply back. I contact the local newspaper next. Again, I send the same email detailing Frank's deteriorating condition and the unfair treatment we have received by the courthouse employees and judge. I explained the missing documents, the hidden divorce decree without notification, the judge's refusal to appoint a guardian for Frank even though the court's own psychiatrist said he was incompetent to stand trial, the delays in our "emergency hearing", allowing his physical condition to decline in prison for something we're not even sure that he did, but we are sure it was in retaliation for asking for alimony, Fargo telling the judge that Frank never paid child support even though it drove him broke, also telling the judge that Frank was the one holding up the divorce because he wouldn't sign the papers even though we have letters from Fargo, in writing, saying that she will not agree to any settlement. Fargo lies so much I think she doesn't even know the truth any longer and I've had enough of their abuse of poor Frank. He can't carry this torch any longer, but we can, and we're fighting back.

I park my car at work on a Wednesday morning and I am about to go inside the building when my cell phone rings. I pull it out of my purse and look at the screen and see it's the newspaper. I'm so excited, my mouth suddenly goes dry. "Hello?" I ask with trepidation. My voice shakes a bit. I know this could be really big or a really terrible mistake, but I won't know until I do it.
"Hi, Susie?" the caller asks.   "Yes" I say sounding more excited than I feel.
"I'm a reporter and I'm interested in the story you sent me about your brother-in-law."

He asks a lot of questions. He wants to know about my relationship with Kat, if Frank was abusive in any way that I know of. I explain to him the phone call she made to Matt recently where she described Frank's anger at the vacuum cleaner. If there was any anger directed at her or the children, she would have said it then. He asks about the courthouse and he says that everyone knows that Delaware County has a corruption problem, but no one knows what to do about it. He does warn me that if he writes this story, we may not be happy with the outcome. He explains that he's done this type of story before and sometimes the public opinion is different from what one expects and it actually has negative consequences. I discuss this issue with Matt and Angelo later that day and we all decide that it can't get much worse for Frank and this may be just what we need to level the field a little bit. Maybe some sunshine on these people will help end the torment they have put Frank and our family through. The reporter was very thorough. He spoke to Angelo even longer that he spoke to me and Angelo gave him all the briefs and correspondence that he had that related to the case.

The first thing I did was call my contact at The Association for Frontotemporal Dementia. I was really excited. I told him, "You say you are interested in educating the public in FTD, well here's your chance. Talk to this reporter about what this thing is so the people reading the article will know what FTD is. I think it will give a great dimension to the story and bring some publicity for what you do."
"Well, I have to talk to management first. I'll get back to you as soon as I can." my contact explained.
"Well, okay, but don't take too long. He's writing this story now." I say.

I get a phone call back from him about an hour later and he says. "Sorry, they say they can't get involved in legal issues."
I am absolutely incredulous. "Are you kidding? This is your opportunity to do what you say you do in a big way. How could you let an opportunity like this go? There are people out there just like us, going from doctor to doctor, trying to figure out what's wrong and not finding answers. It took us four years to get a FTD diagnosis. You don't even have to talk about Frank, just give a general statement about what FTD is."
"Sorry Susie, the director declined. She said she can't get involved." the guy explains to me.
"Well, tell her I think she's making a huge mistake. I truly question her commitment to her job and her stated mission to help people find information. I am terribly disappointed."

I get an email back from the director:

Thank you for contacting us, and I am sorry to hear about the situation with your brother in-law Frank. The Association for Frontotemporal Degeneration is a non-profit organization whose sole mission is to advocate for people who live and work with FTD. Our goals include: promoting public awareness of the disease; providing information education and support, to people diagnosed with FTD their families and caregivers; educating health professionals such as, doctors, nurses, and residential facility staff; and supporting research into treatments and ultimately a cure.

A key part of our mission is to help people find the information and support they need to manage the effects of FTD. One of the most useful things we can offer is a connection to others who live or work with the disease and are willing to share what they have learned. Please consider this message an introduction with an open invitation to check back with us whenever you need help finding resources or support.

I think AFTD can be most useful in this situation by offering information about FTD and dementia care to your family or the attorney handling your brother-in-law’s case. I encourage you to direct people to our website and anyone is welcome to contact us via the helpline by e-mail or phone with questions. I have also attached an overview of FTD as a pdf which you are welcome to share as you want.

We do not have the resources or qualifications to do advocacy on an individual basis beyond providing information but I have included some links to other resources below. Because FTD is rare there is not a lot of professional expertise available and often the real experts are other caregivers who may have faced some of the issues you are confronting and are willing to share resources and support. This may be most helpful in terms of finding a long-term care facility able to provide Frank with the care he needs. We list caregiver support groups and medical centers with expertise in FTD on our website at the link below and I encourage you to contact the people listed for more information.

They want to give information to people who already know they have the disease; that's the easy part. By the time this thing is diagnosed, we already know more than we want to know. I have no choice but to accept this; we go on with the article without them.

49: FTD Regression

"Three-forty-one . . . three-forty-one . . . SET . . . HUTHUTHUT!"

Frank is in the dayhall, or former living room, of the group home that he has been accepted into. This is a large room with a television on the wall and chairs lined up in rows for the residents to sit and watch tv. There are about six people in the room, including Frank, and two aides.  He must have been hallucinating again. The aides said he began announcing play calls before he ran at the row of chairs and started throwing them around the room. The chairs lined up in neat rows must have appeared to be players on some imaginary opposing team, blue plastic uniformed football players. Maybe he's reliving his past glory days when he was one of the stars of the football team.

The director of the home was very generous to give Frank this opportunity to live there and for having the compassion to help him get out of prison. According to her, he was near death from starvation after not being cared for in prison. She did her best to help him gain back some weight and become stabilized on medications. He needed more time, but he wasn't going to get it. This was actually the second episode of inappropriate behavior in only a month. One of the residents told Matt later when he went to pick up Frank's things that the first incident happened when the aides were laughing at him and Frank became angry at them and threw a chair at them. When Matt asks the director about it she denies that this was the reason for Frank's episode. He had begun this behavior of sitting and standing over and over again which annoyed and distracted everyone around him and could have been the cause of the first incident. After the second incident the director called the police and an ambulance and Frank was taken to the local hospital.

This downward spiral that began when he lost his job with AT&T and his wife began seeing another man, continued. Frank couldn't catch a break. The physical stress and emotional anguish he had endured for these last six years had to have taken an enormous toll on him. Maybe he would have gotten frontotemporal dementia anyway, but he is 51 years old and I can only wonder if he wouldn't have gotten it so early or so severely if he hadn't been tormented by his wife and the court system.

Matt and I arrived at the hospital three days after he was taken there. We inquire about his room number and we are directed to the sixth floor. Matt and I step off the elevator into a bustling ward. The lively hallways are filled with staff and carts, and noise.  Most of the staff smile and say hello as we pass; a nurse asks who we're there to see. When we tell her, she says, "Oh, he's our favorite patient, and he loves the ladies!"
"Really?" I ask. I'm kind of surprised that he can still recognize an attractive woman.
"Yeah, especially Donna, she's his favorite. He eats best for her." the same nurse responds.
I look over at the nurse who is blushing. She's got big, long, blond permed hair and a cute face. She's pretty, not in a subtle way.
She just smiles and says, "We're taking good care of him."
They direct us to Frank's room which is just at the corner near the nurse's station. We walk in and he's just lying there staring at the wall.
"Hi Frank" Matt says "How ya doin?"
Frank looks at Matt without seeming to recognize him, then looks away and continues scanning the wall in front of him with his eyes.
We notice that he is tied to his bed in four-point restraints. Soft velcro ties are around his wrists and ankles which are tied to the corners of the bed. He can't move, he can only lay on his back. There is a tv on right next to him, but he doesn't look at it.
Matt goes out to ask the nurse about the restraints. She explains that he fell out of bed, so they keep him tied down when no one is there. She said that they come in and walk him to the bathroom several time a day and they untie his hands while he has his meals. They have to feed him though, he doesn't feed himself. He is so malnourished that they will be inserting a feeding tube into his stomach to help him gain some weight quickly.

While Matt is gone, I sit next to Frank and hold his hand. I began chatting about the weather and the kids, and anything that pops into my head. Frank's eyes scanned the wall behind me even though I was right in front of him. Every so often he would look at me hard, like he was concentrating on my face, then he would look away again and scan the wall. This is the first time I have seen Frank since that day in municipal court when they put him in jail. That was only three months ago, but the difference is shocking. His weight, his facial expression, and the frailty is not something I was prepared for.

48: Last Will

Air Force Thunderbirds

The summer before Frank was arrested, we took him on vacation with our family to our beach condo in Ocean City, Maryland. It was the annual Ocean City Air Show and we knew Frank would love it, because, of course we do too. He loves anything military, especially Army, from his time being in the Army Reserves. We sat on the beach with a cooler of sandwiches and drinks watching the air show over the ocean all day. Highlights were the C-130 cargo plane, it's amazing to see that enormous plane flying by. The F-18 Hornet is just absolutely thrilling when it flies by and you hear that incredible sonic boom a few seconds later. The star of the show is the Air Force Thunderbirds. They do those amazing tricks and fly-bys and it was definitely worth waiting for. That night on the boardwalk the Navy Seal Parachute team parachuted down onto the boardwalk and jogged past us and into the event tent. Those guys are true rock stars, and each one more handsome than the next. It was a great time and thinking back I am so happy that we were able to spend some good times with him while we could.

That weekend we thought it was time to talk about his will. It was hard to bring up, but something that we realized was necessary. Not that he had any money or any items of value. The few things he might have had were left at his house the day he had to leave it when Kat got her PFA. There is a divorce settlement pending though and we were expecting that at some point in the future Kat would be forced to pay Frank what she owes him, just a basic dividing things down the middle settlement, but it could be a significant amount of money. Matt said "Frank, we have to talk about your will."
Frank answered, "I'm going to live forever. I feel great."
I said, "I know Frank, I feel the same way, but it's good to be prepared anyway."
Matt asked, "What do you want to do Frank, you want to leave everything to your kids?"
Frank answered, "yeah, that's good."
I said to Matt later, "Why would he want to leave his kids anything. They know he's not well and they don't care. They could call him if they wanted to, they're not little kids any more. He spends more time with us and our kids than his own. We're his family now. I think we should suggest leaving everything to his beloved niece and nephews; you know, the ones that actually care about him and spend time with him."
"Susie, you know how much he loves Frannie and Eric. In the end, I want them to know that no matter what they did, or didn't do, that their father still loved them more than anything in the world. It doesn't matter how long the distance or how deep the hurt, in the end, they were still the most important thing to him. That's what a father does, and that's what Frank would want." Matt explained.
He has a good argument, but I'm a little angry at them and I wish I could ask them to explain themselves. "Frances hasn't called Blaise since he asked her to call her dad for his birthday, and she dropped him and Brett from Facebook too. What's with that?
Matt insisted, "Well, after we pay off his debts, there probably won't be anything left anyway, but I'll try to make sure there's a few dollars left so they know he still thought of them . . . and Kat will know that if she hadn't dragged this out for so long that her kids would have gotten all the money right back instead of it going to your cousin's attorney fees."

47: FTD Patient Admitted to Group Home

"How's it going Frank?" Matt asks Frank brightly, trying to sound positive while visiting him in jail.
"Good" Frank answers in a robotic kind of voice. His voice sounds a little different; like a higher, weaker tone. He's lost a lot of weight too, and his eyes look sunken and dim. He's probably down about forty pounds from when he first was arrested less than two months ago.
"We're trying to get you out of here Frank. We're looking for a nice place for you to go." Matt assures him.
"Okay" is all Frank says.
"You lost a lot of weight; what's going on? I thought you liked the food here." Matt has never seen Frank this thin.
"They're stealing my food." Frank answers.

Matt is shocked at the difference in Frank's appearance and demeanor. He looks over at one of the guards standing nearby. He offers, "Yeah man, he's kind of having a rough time now. All his buddies left and there's a whole new crew here now. They're giving him a hard time, I think it's been rough on him. We have to keep him in his cell for his own safety."
It was the interaction with the other prisoners that helped improve Frank's condition initially, but now,  being kept alone, basically in solitary confinement, languishing in his cell, has had a horrific deteriorating effect. Apparently Frank is not the only person this has happened to. A lawsuit has been filed against the Pennsylvania Prison System for keeping mentally ill prisoners in solitary confinement without proper medical care.

A social worker for the prison called and asked us if we found a place for Frank to live yet. He explained that the warden doesn't think Frank belongs in jail and wants him out. Perhaps he is as alarmed as we are at Frank's dramatic decline. Frank has been found incompetent to stand trial, so there is no reason for him to be in jail other than the judge will not release him to us; maybe with good reason. There is no question that Frank is debilitating in prison though and we need to figure something out. I'm perplexed why the social worker is asking us if we've found a place for Frank, when it's his expertise. He must not even be trying. I called "A Place for Mom" but the best they could do is a half-way house about three hours away in the mountains near the Delaware Water Gap. It's a beautiful park and camping area, but we would rarely be able to visit and they provided no nursing care, just a bed in a home. That would not be a long term solution. Finally, based on a recommendation from the social worker, Matt called a group home right near the prison. It's a regular house in a regular neighborhood, but it's been converted to a nursing home with ramps and a big parking lot and houses about ten people plus two staff and a nurse. The director, to our surprise, agrees to interview Frank to see if he's a suitable candidate for the home. We get great news that she will "take a chance" on Frank; her words. She reported back to Matt that Frank is "dangerously malnourished". She said that she felt that Frank was in imminent danger of death by starvation if we didn't get him out of George Hill Prison quickly.  This woman is our new hero.

The only hold-up is that the home cannot accept someone with criminal charges against them. Through the social worker, the director of the group home communicated to the warden that the charges need to be dropped. The warden called the judge in this case to let him know. This is not the woman judge from Domestic Court, this is a male judge from the Civil Section assigned to Frank's PFA violation.  This judge seems like he's trying to be fair; unlike our experience in Domestic Relations. He realized that Frank needs this group home, but he can't drop the charges himself. He has to call Fargo. Fargo has to call Kat who, in her passive-aggressive manner,  refuses to drop the charges.  The judge had to call Kat and Fargo into his chambers for a meeting in person to berate Kat into doing the right thing.  I don't know what he had to say to her to get her to do it, but knowing her, it took a lot of pressure. Meanwhile, while all this negotiating is going on, there's an empty bed at the home losing money. The director told us that we had three days before they were going to go to the next person on the list. This was just one more way that Kat could hurt Frank and I have no doubt that if she knew of the three day time limit, she would have taken four to make her decision.

Two months after arriving at George W. Hill Correctional Facility, Frank leaves looking like a hollow shell of the person who went in.

46: FTD Divorce Under Suspicious Circumstances

The letter to Fargo's office was headed with "third request". "Please forward to my office all orders and correspondence related to the court hearing dated April 7."
Angelo was trying to get to the bottom of what happened at the secret hearing on that date that involved Frank but we weren't invited to.  Angelo saw it on the courthouse's web site of previous hearings. Three weeks after he asked for the order of the hearing to be retrieved from the court files, he got a phone call from the cabal of secretaries in Domestic Relations that his file was ready to be picked up. Angelo went that very day, an hour drive into Delaware County, to the office of Domestic Relations where the women work who thought it was so funny when we showed up for the canceled hearing.
"Hello, I'm here to pick up this order." Angelo hands the woman the file number. She turns and looks through the files for a few minutes and says, "I'm sorry, it's not here. Did someone tell you it was here?" the woman asks innocently.
Angelo is fuming already. "I just got a call this morning! What do you mean it's not here?"
"It must be in the judge's chamber, try over there." she offered.
Angelo was shuffled around the courthouse from one office to another; being passed around like gossip at junior high. He finally ended up at the office of the District Attorney to complain. The woman in the office looked at him like he just landed there from planet Mars and asked to be taken to her leader.  Angelo was beginning to feel like he was on another planet. He hadn't practiced law in a while, but when he did, in Philadelphia and New Jersey, he had never run into such an unscrupulous bunch as these people. He had no choice but to leave empty-handed after being told the order was lost. What was   in this order that no one wants him to see?

He continued pressure on Fargo to hand over the order, as she is required to do, because the secretary never did produce a copy for us. Two months later, after the appeal period was over, Fargo's office finally sent a copy of the order. We found out that Kat and Fargo had their secretary friend, the one that thinks this is all so funny, set them up with a court date to finalize the divorce before our hearing, thereby rendering our request for spousal support immaterial. So, she had our hearing cancelled yet held one of her own without any notice to Frank's home or attorney. The transcript was even more unbelievable. This divorce has been unfinished for seven long years because Kat refused to sign the papers because it would mean handing Frank money. The first thing the woman judge asked was "Is this divorce uncontested?" Because she noticed that neither Frank, nor any attorney to represent him, was there. Fargo answers, "ummm . . . the other side hasn't shown up. We don't know why."
Here is Fargo lying under oath with Kat standing silent right next to her. They both know exactly where Frank is, in jail, because they put him there. The judge asks no more questions and finalizes the divorce. Fargo asks the judge for Frank to pay her $2500 in attorney's fees and the judge says, "why don't you take $3,000 just to make sure you have enough to finish up." Fargo thanks her and it's over.

These are two women who know each other very well, they are both on the same committees and boards and they both went to the same law school as well. I can't imply that there was collusion, but to finalize a divorce after seven years when the plaintiff or his attorney wasn't even there is a little questionable, especially when this very same judge refused to appoint Matt guardian of Frank at a previous hearing. It should have been postponed at the very least.

Angelo appealed the decision so we could move ahead with our request for support saying that our hearing could not be stayed for not having a guardian, while her hearing moved forward. Our appeal was set to be heard in July along with the support hearing with the same judge. Meantime there was alot of papers flying back and forth. Angelo wrote a brief with our issues and Fargo had to answer. The main question was why weren't we notified about this hearing. Fargo said that she sent a notice to Frank in prison and she had to assume that he read it. Angelo answered back that if you knew he was incompetent to have a hearing for the spousal support, why would you think he would be competent enough to be the sole receiver of a notice of a hearing to finalize his divorce. She answered that if Frank were truly incompetent, there would be a doctor there to read it to him.  Her answer that she admits that she sent notice of the divorce hearing to prison is a direct contradiction to her sworn testimony in court that she had no idea where Frank was, which is a crime known as perjury. Finally, she expects us to believe that she feels that there are doctors hanging around the prison reading mail to people and making sure their attorneys are notified of any pending legal proceedings; it's preposterous.

45: Appointed Guardian of FTD Patient; for Frank's Sake

"Plaintiff's request to be granted 'guardian ad litem' denied. I suggest you take it up in Orphan's Court."
That was the ruling by the first judge that let Nicholas Zinc out of Frank's case which was the first time Matt asked to be made guardian for Frank, just for the divorce case. Guardian ad litem is not a full guardian, it's just a guardian appointment to be able to negotiate on behalf of someone for a particular area, but not everything. We really didn't want to be fully responsible for Frank at that point mostly because I didn't really know how liable we would be for him. Say he gets into an accident and gets sued, or does something negligent; would we be legally responsible for any hot water he found himself into? Matt had gotten turned down three times by two different judges in Delaware County Courthouse to be appointed guardian ad litem. There was no reason given, but all three times they told us we had to go to Orphan's Court. Orphan's Court is for full guardianship which would give Matt the power to conduct any and all business on Frank's behalf. After we did some research we found that a guardian cannot be sued or held financially responsible for any debts or liabilities so we decided that since Frank was found incompetent and Matt was going to have to go to court for him, that he would have to go to Orphan's Court after all.

Fargo was using Frank's incompetence against him. She had our hearing for spousal support cancelled because she told the docket clerk that we couldn't proceed without a guardian. The woman who works in Domestic Relations that seemed to be working for Kat's attorney, rescheduled it for three months later, now a total of eight months to wait for an emergency hearing. Still, two Delaware County Judges refused to appoint Matt guardian. We decided to go around them and go to our own courthouse where a person can still be treated fairly.  Orphan's Court in Montgomery County appointed Matt legal guardian of Frank after reviewing all the medical evaluations we had. Normally, the incapacitated person would be there also, but since Kat had Frank jailed, that was going to be difficult. Someone from the courthouse took the hour long drive up to the prison and interviewed Frank. It was a slam dunk after that. Matt was appointed legal guardian by the court of Montgomery County and had papers to prove that he was legally able, and required, to look out for Frank's best interests. There was no one better suited to do this because Matt took his responsibility for Frank very seriously. He took Kat's and Fargo's victimization of Frank very hard. There was no one but him to try to get justice for his brother. He could see that Kat paid Frank what he was owed financially, but he could never right the wrongs she committed to him and the children emotionally; all for Frank's sake.

44: FTD Support Hearing Goes Awry

"Let's see . . . ummm, no; there's no record of any hearing today. Are you sure it was today?" The woman at the court clerk's desk takes off her reading glasses and looks up at Angelo quizzically. Meanwhile another woman in the office is standing behind the front desk off to the right side and we hear her on the phone. She's looking directly at us, like she's speaking to us, but she's on the phone. "Yeah, they're here now . . . yeah." she giggles.

Our emergency hearing for spousal support, that we've been waiting five months for has suddenly been cancelled with no notice or reason. Apparently someone in the office thinks it's hilarious though. What does Mulva Fargo do to get the courthouse personnel to tamper with cases for her, I wonder.
"Who do you think that woman was talking to on the phone?" I say out loud to Angelo and Matt. We all already know the answer though.  No one even answers me.
Matt and I both took off from work today. We weren't needed to testify and Frank wasn't going to be there, but we felt it was important for the judge to know that someone cares about Frank even though Angelo said we didn't have to go.
"We must have stepped in some deep shit here. I don't know what's going on, but that case was on the docket yesterday. I know because I checked it to make sure the time hadn't changed." Angelo looks like a mixture of anger and confusion. I think we all feel the same way. Suddenly I feel paranoid, like we just stepped into a private club where everyone knows each other and we are standing out like nudists at a suit convention.
"You guys get out of here. No sense hanging around. I'll see what I can find out." Angelo seems distracted. I was mixed with relief and disappointment. No one likes to feel duped or ridiculed, but I really wanted our day in court and I felt like doing some yelling. I had to leave it to Angelo to get to the bottom though, so Matt and I left. Since we were all dressed up with no place to go, we treated ourselves to a nice, quiet lunch at a beautiful old colonial restaurant near home. We don't talk about anything much but Frank these days though, and it's becoming exhausting.

Angelo tracked down the guy who schedules the docket for Delaware County Courthouse and asked him what happened to our case. "Yes, the other attorney told me that you weren't ready for the case." he said in his superior tone, as if this was a good reason.
"What do you mean? You take her word that I'm not ready for my case?" Angelo asks incredulously.
"She said that you couldn't proceed without a guardian for the plaintiff." the docket clerk explains.
"Where's the judge? Did she approve this? Because as far as I know you can't just cancel my hearing because the other attorney wants you to." Angelo is exasperated. The guy shows no reaction and has no response. He just walks away from Angelo quickly, like he has someplace more important to be and leaves Angelo standing there.

It's not like Fargo didn't know who Angelo was. He sent a very polite letter to her office introducing himself as Frank's attorney and in the final paragraph wrote that he was looking forward to meeting her on the 28th at the courthouse for the APL hearing. He got no response from her, probably because she wasn't planning on showing up for it. Keep in mind also, that this very same judge who was presiding over this case is the same judge that turned Mat down, twice, to be appointed guardian ad litem for Frank. It is required for a judge to approve the cancellation of a hearing if it is within twenty-four hours.    So did she approve the cancellation of our hearing for need of a guardian and at the same time refuse to appoint Matt guardian?  It's been six years that Fargo and Kat have delayed things, they're not going to stop now, especially when Frank has some unknown, i.e.  not Delaware County, attorney that is easily manipulated by the courthouse employee shenanigans.

Before he left the courthouse Angelo checks the docket one more time to see if it was rescheduled at all. While perusing all files for 'Layton', he is surprised to see that there was a hearing three weeks ago. Angelo sucks in air, "What the hell is this?" he says to himself. He goes back into the office where the cabal of treacherous secretaries work. The three of them all look at each other when Angelo walks in. "Hey, can I get a transcript of this case?" He hands the woman a piece of paper with the case number on it. The same woman that was on the phone laughing at him before is still snickering with her head down. He looks at the name plate on her desk and makes a note to himself to find out who she is and why this case is so important to her.  "I'm sorry sir, that case isn't in our files any longer. I'll have to order it from the records." the woman looks blankly at Angelo, but he's feeling all their eyes on him. He's tries to stay calm and not give the impression he's on to their tricks because he knows that will only make it worse. "Okay, that's fine." Angelo says calmly. "When will it be ready?"
"I don't know sir, it could be three weeks." the secretary claims.

Angelo gets in his car and drives an hour back home to Betty and the kids, and solace. He looks around his nice home and his beautiful family and thinks, "What the hell am I getting into here?" He feels like he just stepped out of the Twilight Zone.

43: FTD Sufferer Incompetent to Stand Trial

"Will Francis Layton come forward!" the court bailiff announces.
There's suddenly a mumbling of voices and running. Distant scuffling can be heard. They've brought Frank in from jail for his hearing on the PFA violation that Kat complained about from two months ago. Someone whispers to the judge and he gets up out of his seat, steps down from the high platform that his desk rests upon, and disappears through the doorway.

"Matt, I've never seen anything like it." Guy Newman, Frank's friend and attorney from his previous, more normal life, states sadly. "They put Frank in that holding cell and it was like he was a caged animal. He was actually climbing the walls."
"So what happened?" Matt wanted to know.
"Well, he was trying to rip the bars out of the wall, and the guards were actually afraid to get near him; and that doesn't happen too often, I can tell you. There was no chance that they were going to bring him into that courtroom for his hearing."
Matt let out an audible sigh, "So what's next?"
"Psychological exam." Guy explains. "Everything is on hold until we find out if your brother's competent to stand trial. In my opinion, he's not, and they'll have to drop charges. Where does that leave us, I don't know."

Matt was dumbfounded by this news. It seems like just when there's hope that Frank is improving, he suddenly gets much worse. Our plans to bring Frank back home are dashed by this new aggressive behavior that we didn't count on. Frank is to stay in jail until a full psychological exam is completed and a new court date is set.  At that point the judge will follow the recommendations of the court-appointed psychiatrist.

Dr. Arthur Boxer is a very well respected psychiatrist on the Main Line of Philadelphia. He's got a CVA a mile long, serving on many boards and educational institutions along with his own private practice. He also works for the state as the court's appointed psychiatrist. We were very fortunate to have this opportunity for a complete mental exam for Frank from such an experienced and knowledgeable doctor. According to Dr. Boxer's report, Frank had a complete lack of knowledge and understanding of his present circumstances and environment. His condition, FTD, caused him to not be held accountable for his activities as he lacked the ability to comprehend his actions which led to this situation. He was rendered incompetent to stand trial with no hope of becoming competent in the future.

There wasn't exactly a hearing, just a meeting in the judge's chambers with the DA and Guy Newman, who has been extremely generous to Frank. He donated his professional services at no charge for his old friend for any criminal charges like the PFA and DUI. There are still incredibly good, caring people in the world. The judge will not release Frank to us unless we can assure him that someone will be caring for him 24 hours a day. Since that's impossible, the only option for Frank's release is to a nursing home. I called every place I could find on the internet within our area. I thought it was hard before he was arrested to find care for him, but to find a nursing home that was interested in accepting someone from prison is nearly impossible. This is what I'm most angry about now. Kat is so hateful and spiteful, that six years after Frank filed for divorce, she's still punishing him.

This arrest is only because my cousin Angelo filed for spousal support and Kat doesn't want to pay. If Angelo had any experience working as a lawyer he probably would have known the court would not award spousal support to a man that is not caring for the children in any way, but that's another story. Due to his lack of experience working as an attorney, Angelo was on the wrong path with this case the entire time. We felt we were doing him a favor of giving him a job when he needed it, but he mistook our generosity for desperation and became someone we didn't know.

At the time we felt that since Frank had been found incompetent, the hearing would go our way and Kat would be ordered to help support him in some way.

42: We're All Just Actors in the Great Movie of Life With FTD

Matt and I took a little Sunday drive out to George W. Hill Correctional Facility. I don't know what we were thinking, we didn't do any research ahead of time. I think we thought it would be like visiting a hospital or something.  Just driving up to the guard station was intimidating, with razor wire everywhere and gates that seem like they could trap you at any moment. We found out that they have a narrow window of visitation times, so we couldn't go in anyway. I was actually relieved because as I was reading the dress code guidelines posted at the gate, I changed my mind about wanting to go in. I read, "no tight fitting clothes, no see-through clothing, females must wear bra and panties . . ." I don't think I belong here, and I certainly don't want to be checked by a prison guard to see if I have on panties. I know I've been exposed to things that I wouldn't imagine I would have had to go through lately, but this is all a little too ghetto for me.
"I'm sorry, but checking me for panties is a deal-breaker, say hi for me." I said.

Frank's hearing isn't for another month to see if they are going to sentence him or let him go for violating the PFA. Matt called the prison Monday morning to inform them of Frank's Frontotemporal Dementia and that he is taking Abilify to prevent the hallucinations associated with his condition. He spoke to a nurse in the health suite and she said she would make a note. It took them about a week to notice that Frank was a little different. The phone rang, caller ID says it's the prison so I answer immediately. "This is the nurse at George W. Hill. We have, your brother I guess it is, in the health suite here. Is there something wrong with him?" Never mind that Matt had already called the health suite and told them what was wrong and gave them a list of Frank's daily medications. Apparently this information wasn't noted after all and he hadn't received any medications at all. At least they finally figured it out and he will spend the rest of his incarceration in the hospital wing of the prison.

With the narrow visitation hours at the prison, and Matt's work schedule, it was difficult to find a compatible time to visit Frank. After Frank had been in jail for about two weeks, Matt finally got there. He said it was very difficult getting though security. Not only is there a metal detector, but a scanner to detect narcotics, and a dog. There are no wallets, or money, no watches or jewelry, cell phones, no hoods, no double layers of clothing, so if you have on a shirt and sweater, you have to take one off. One time he forgot that he had his watch on and by the time he walked back out of prison and through the mile-long walk back to the parking lot, visiting hours were over.

Matt sat down in the visiting room with Frank. By the way he described it, it sounded like the visitation room on one of my favorite shows, "Arrested Development" when George Bluth was in prison. Like a small cafeteria with short rectangle tables and guards around the room watching for conduct violations. ("no touching!") We had been so worried about how someone like Frank would hold up in prison. He can't follow directions, doesn't communicate well, doesn't comprehend what people are saying to him; how could he keep up with the demands that prison life would hold for him? Our worries were unfounded; Matt said that Frank looked great. He was communicating better than Matt had seem him in months. He had a huge smile, and said the food was great, and had made friends.  One of the other prisoners shouted over, "Hey Frank!". Matt asked, "Who's that Frank?"
Frank answered, "Oh he's just one of the actors, they're all actors. You're getting the money, right?"
Matt is slightly confused. "What do you mean Frank?"
"We're making a movie here. All these people here are in the movie with me. They put the money in my account right?" Frank is off his meds and is probably hallucinating right now, but it's a good hallucination, I guess.
"Oh, yeah, I got the money." Matt goes along since it makes Frank happy.
"We'll go see it when it comes out." Frank seems really excited.
"Hey, how's it going." Frank waves at another prisoner walking past.

Matt came home feeling much better than he had in weeks. Frank believed he was the star of an action movie being filmed at the prison and seemed more vocal, thoughtful and happy than he had in weeks. Probably due to the constant interaction he was experiencing with the other inmates and guards. Which suggests to me that symptoms of FTD can be improved by living in a stimulating, group environment.
"I wish I had been there to see him Matt." I said. "Next time you go I'll make sure I put on my prettiest panties."