I started checking in on Miss D three times a day bringing prepared foods and juice. My husband fixed Miss D’s bedroom lamp, got her television working and mopped the kitchen floor. It bothered Miss D to see her floor so dirty, not knowing how to clean it.
I put the juice in Miss D’s refrigerator and saw raw chicken in a roasting pan, a dozen eggs and butter. She must have gone to the store the night before. I took the raw chicken to my apartment and cooked it for her, leaving the eggs with hesitation. Miss D using the stove scared me.
The APS caseworker called me today and told me she had talked to the granddaughter. It did not sound positive the granddaughter would get involved. The relationship was complicated.
I found the cooked chicken in a trashcan in the living room. I began seeing a pattern of Miss D cleaning out her refrigerator each day, throwing out perfectly good food. If you gave her a dozen muffins, she’d eat them all in one day.