In my last post, I described how my husband hunted down Doris' new bank card number, so that he could once again go online and pay little things like, oh, the municipal taxes on her house.
Well, guess what? You know it.
The number still isn't giving him access.
Anthony: "What the @#&^$%@!"
Anthony: "I got the new number Monday afternoon. I tried using it first thing Tuesday morning. She couldn't have possibly lost her card again after we saw her, and then gotten to the bank Tuesday morning to order a new one, all before I tried to get access! What the #*&$@#%!"
Me: "Total agreement."
So our plan is to make an apointment with the bank, discuss the issue and see what we can come up with to manage the situation better.
As Anthony bemoaned, we'll probably have to hire a lawyer after the meeting. To send the bank threats. Because in the past, they've pretty much refused to co-operate with Anthony, even though he has Power of Attorney, and can wave around signed medical documents from Kookytown General stating that Doris can't take care of business anymore, and doesn't understand the consequences of her own actions.
Heck, she can't even remember most actions.
As you may well imagine, Anthony isn't looking forward to the bank meeting.