|
Vern Arnold, 1935
This is an article about his wife, Helen, who was a long-time teacher
at East High.
'I hope to die soon'Ex-teacher falls into system; death proves only way
outBy Lou Kilzer, News Staff Writer
April 13, 2001She read the book Final Exit. She hoarded medications for the
right day. She talked of stepping in front of an 18-wheeler. Helen Arnold, a
retired French teacher at East High School, wanted to die. It was the only
escape she could find from a system determined to protect her from herself,
even against her will. Until her 83rd year, the Colorado native had lived a
fiercely independent life. At Windsor Gardens condos, Helen refused to use
her walker -- and often fell. Friends saw bruises, but she dismissed them.
Falls, she insisted, were not important. Her pastor grew concerned. "She had
inner-ear problems,'' Les Felker said in an interview. "What I was afraid of
was that one day I was going to go to Windsor Gardens and find her dead.''
On March 16, 1995, his fears were nearly realized. Helen Arnold fell again,
but this time broke a bone in her neck. Though the accident left her with
little worse than a stiff neck, it was enough to bring on guardians and
conservators and judges. And with them, Helen's independence disappeared.
That part of the story is not unique. Many Coloradans lose their
independence every year in probate proceedings throughout the state.
HELEN L. ARNOLD Died: June 2, 1998, age 86 Case history: Guardianship
established after she fell and broke bone in neck in 1995. Time spent as
ward: Three years Sample of expenses: Helen was billed $4,643 for an
attorney to argue against her own attorney, whom she paid $3,269. Personal
history: University of Denver graduate; taught French for 27 years at East
High School. Judge, jurisdiction: Magistrate Sandra Franklin, Denver Probate
Court Family status: Son Spencer was only living immediate family member.
From her letters to the court
"I have no money, no phone, can not go to the dentist or doctor (I need both.)
I can not even buy a much needed girdle or pair of shoes . . . It would be
simpler if I complied to the probate rules and were dead. I think about that
escape all the time."
"I am far from being senile. . . . I admit I fainted one morning, fell and
broke a bone in my neck. I was perhaps confused for a period, but there are
no ill effects except for a still-stiff neck. So what?"
"I hope to die soon. How would any of you feel if at 83-84 you lost
everything you had?"
"I (have) no other assets left. Being destitute now, death is my only answer.
I am too old to work and no one wants me."
But those involved agree that Helen's persistence in her fight against the
system was exceptional. In the end, her case raises questions about how
Colorado's system of probate law treats elderly people who want to live out
their lives taking risks and making decisions that the state routinely
permits young people to make as soon as they reach the age of 18. Helen
Arnold was born in Glenwood Springs on Sept. 3, 1911. Five years later, her
family moved to what would become Denver's fashionable East Seventh Avenue,
where, Felker said, she grew up comfortably.
The family traveled to Europe in the 1930s, he said, visiting a castle that
had belonged to an ancestor in the 1300s -- a castle where Martin Luther was
said to have once hidden from a papal army. Gifted in languages, Helen
received a master's degree from the University of Denver, studied at the
Sorbonne in Paris, and later taught French and language arts at East High
for 27 years. In 1966, she and her husband, Vern Arnold, moved into Windsor
Gardens. Thirteen years later, Vern died.
Helen stayed in the condo, and in the 1990s, she took out a $69,000 mortgage
to provide money to her son, Spencer Arnold. The years had taken their toll,
emotionally and physically, on Helen. Eleanor Lewis, a member of Helen's
Presbyterian church and herself a former schoolteacher, helped out where she
could. But she told the News that Helen was determined to live on her own,
even though she was a "very, very lonely woman.'' Helen's son had a starker
assessment of his mother's condition. "She was a very angry woman. She was
hostile depressive,'' he said in a recent interview. He considered her "demented.''
After she broke a vertebra in her neck, he decided to take charge of her
affairs. "I thought this would be a good time to take some action,'' he said.
While she was in the hospital, Spencer Arnold asked that she undergo a
psychological examination, insisting that his mother lacked the capacity to
care for herself. Seven days after the fall, psychologist William Locy
examined Helen at the Rocky Mountain Rehabilitation Institute in Aurora. His
conclusions were dire. Helen, he wrote, was likely suffering from "significant
overall brain dysfunction,'' in a manner "consistent with a brain-damaged
individual.'' Armed with Locy's results, Spencer and his lawyer went to
Denver Probate Court a week later and told the magistrate that Helen "suffers
from dementia, which impairs her ability to make or communicate responsible
decisions . . . .'' As can happen in probate court, Helen, who had the most
at stake in the hearing, did not appear. She was still in the rehabilitation
center. Spencer was appointed her guardian and conservator. To raise money
for his mother's care, Spencer started selling her personal property --
artifacts from Europe and South America and from her parents -- and in less
than a month had her Windsor Gardens condo under contract to be sold. At
first, Helen, living at Life Care Center in Aurora, went along with the idea
of Spencer being her guardian. But when she heard of the proposed condo sale,
she protested vehemently. "I had expected that by now I would be home and on
my own as usual,'' she wrote the court on May 16, 1995, two months after the
accident. "I strongly object to (Spencer) trying to sell my apartment. He
has no right to deplete my meager finances to nothing. The apartment is all
I have after giving him all my savings . . . .'' Two days later, the court,
responding to Helen's plea, appointed attorney John Berman to represent her
interests. Human Network Systems was retained by the court to prepare a
report on the case. In early July, Gordon Wolfe, owner of HNS, delivered the
report. "Mrs. Arnold denies any deficits. She states adamantly she can take
care of herself,'' he concluded under the heading "Denial/Manipulation.''
Helen, Wolfe wrote, "is a highly intelligent woman who wants/ needs control
of her life. When she feels she is losing control, she is prone to
manipulation and acting out.'' Wolfe proposed a variety of living
arrangements that would slowly spend down her assets at rates ranging from
$500 to $1,500 per month. That same day, a psychologist threw a curve that
momentarily complicated matters for the probate court. Kathryn Kaye, hired
by Spencer's attorney to conduct a further examination of Helen, filed a
report finding almost nothing wrong. Helen was "alert, fully oriented, and
able to attend to assessment tasks,'' Kaye found. "Information processing
speed was normal . . . Speech was consistently clear and distinct . . . Ms.
Arnold performed extremely well on abstract verbal reasoning tasks.'' She
was "an intelligent and well-educated individual whose test performance
shows intact areas of attention, concentration and information processing,''
Kaye found. In the critical area of memory,
Helen's scores "were at the 50th percentile or above compared with her age
group.'' "There is no evidence of progressive dementing illness,'' Kaye
determined, and "no mental status deficits.'' "Ms. Arnold could return to
independent living with assistance of a visiting nurse or care manager.''
Spencer says his mother deceived Kaye. "I think she just pulled the wool
over this gal's eyes,'' he said. "I really do.'' At a hearing to determine
the care Helen needed and decide whether the condo sale should be approved,
Helen raged against her loss of freedom. Finally allowed to speak, she
talked about her beloved home, telling how she had mortgaged it to lend
money to Spencer, whom she expected to make the payments. She said she had
given no one permission to sell her furnishings and other possessions. But
her testimony could not reverse her fortunes. The magistrate approved the
sale. Helen was confined to assisted-living and nursing homes. Spencer
eventually resigned as guardian and conservator, agreeing to pay his mother
some $27,000 to settle the dispute over her assets. Gordon Wolfe took over
as guardian and conservator. Helen continued to complain in a series of
letters to the court (see box). But her physical and financial condition
deteriorated. In August 1996, Wolfe wrote to the magistrate that Helen had
recently been hospitalized for dehydration, anemia and gastrointestinal
bleeding -- and that her estate was now valued at $21,788. In February 1997,
Wolfe's company wrote to Spencer asking him to supplement his mother's
income. Her assets were down to $1,399. Wolfe's company had been receiving
approximately $900 a month to handle Helen's affairs. In September 1997,
Helen went from a nursing home to Aurora Presbyterian Hospital for treatment
of dehydration and a urinary tract infection. In January 1998, Wolfe wrote
to Spencer that his mother had a balance of $125.98. He asked that Spencer
make $2,165 a month in payments. On June 2, 1998, Helen Arnold died. Berman,
Helen's attorney, believes she was a victim of prejudice against the elderly.
She was not senile and did not deserve to lose her freedom, he said in a
recent interview. She was "only old.'' It was unfair, he said, to have her
life rearranged by a psychological examination done so quickly after a
serious injury. "Within 24 hours, you are so disoriented, it's terrible. (A
hospital) is the worst place. I'm not saying doctors cheat or lie. They
don't. But they are very, very deliberate in finding where there are weak
spots, and they're very easy to find.'' Pastor Felker believes Helen needed
more supervision because of the falls. But he didn't understand the dementia
tag. "I'm not a professional doctor,'' he said, "but my conversations with
her were pretty standard for somebody that age.'' Locy, the psychologist who
first found that Helen was suffering brain damage, told the News he never
intended that to be a final diagnosis. "People change, get worse, get better.
All of the above.''
But Spencer, her son, believes the decision was right. "Over the years, with
the onset of dementia, she learned how to hide her problems very, very
well,'' he said. He is certain his mother was demented, he said, pointing to
her death certificate: It lists the cause of death as Alzheimer's. Except
where otherwise indicated, the information in this story is based on court
records.
http://images.scripps.com/denver/cmf/index.html
|