Getting Ready
A short list of things to take care of now, if someone you love has dementia.
Note: I am not a lawyer and everything in this post is very specific to my own experience as a U.S. citizen and a Texas resident. Please keep that in mind as you’re reading and check this information with the relevant experts in your local area.
Mike wound up in the ER for the first time after his Parkinson’s diagnosis as the result of a bad fall. This happened at the height of the Covid pandemic, so I worried that being in the ER was itself a danger—but we didn’t have a choice. He had injuries that clearly needed immediate medical attention.
I worried about a million things during that hospital visit, eventually including the number of times I was asked about documentation I didn’t have. Over and over, I found myself saying No. I began to feel woefully unprepared for a situation I hadn’t quite realized I needed to be preparing for.
But that experience made it clear to me that a Parkinson’s diagnosis had placed us on the fast track toward needing to, as they say, get our affairs in order. Within a few weeks of that ER visit—and with some guidance from a friend who has a law degree, but no longer practices law—I was able to put together a stack of documents that has made my life much easier, on more than one occasion.
If you love someone with any level of cognitive impairment, it’s a good idea to think about getting these documents in place while that person is still able to participate in the process and sign forms on their own. Once that’s no longer possible, you may have to have them legally certified as incompetent—an additional (and painful) step that you can avoid by being proactive.
Wills
Note the plural: if you’re part of a married couple, you and your partner should have individual wills. This allows each partner to make changes whenever necessary, without the cooperation of the other party. Having wills in place can streamline the process of settling an estate after someone dies, because what might seem logical isn’t necessarily what the law presumes to be true.
Powers of Attorney
Again, note the plural. Different powers of attorney exist for medical and legal situations; you’ll want to have both in place. Having Mike’s medical power of attorney allows me to decline medical treatment on his behalf and save him from upsetting trips to the ER when he takes a fall at his memory care facility (if that fall doesn’t result in obvious injury.) It also allows me to approve physical therapy to strengthen his muscles, potentially preventing those falls. Having Mike’s legal power of attorney allows me to request the distributions from his retirement account that now help pay for memory care.
A power of attorney can be durable or contingent. In the first case, it’s always in force; in the second, it’s in force only when someone is incapable of speaking for themselves. When it comes to a person with dementia, you’ll want durable powers of attorney in place so there’s no question about whether that person is capable of making decisions on their own behalf.
If you’re working with a financial advisor, ask them to explain the various permissions associated with each account they manage. Although I have Mike’s legal power of attorney, we misunderstood one of the permissions associated with his IRA when we set it up and failed to check a particular box. That created a small hoop I now have to jump through every month. Not a catastrophe, but an error that could have been avoided simply by asking questions instead of presuming that having Mike’s power of attorney gave me carte blanche authority.
Rights of Survivorship
Seeing a pattern? Note the plural.
Depending on the state where you live, you may need to file a Right of Survivorship document for your home and any accounts you share with your loved one (checking and savings accounts, for instance), in order to ensure that jointly-owned property becomes yours after their death. The laws in your state may not presume that all shared assets go to the surviving spouse; many blended families create inheritance provisions for children from previous marriages, so having a Right of Survivorship document in place settles the question of who gets what.
Also important to remember: every credit card account has one owner. (This is so the credit card company knows who to come after for late payment.) If you share a credit card account with your partner, you’re either designated as the account owner or an “authorized user.” If you’re the latter party, you’ll lose access to that credit card account when your loved one dies. It’s a good idea to have at least one credit card in your name only, just to avoid finding yourself without resources. I’ve been slowly moving all our autopay accounts to the card in only my name.
Depending on your cell phone provider, the situation may be similar. I was required to prove that I had Mike’s legal power of attorney—and then fill out an additional, T-Mobile-specific power of attorney document—before I had the authority to manage our family account. Since Mike is listed as the account owner, no changes could be made without his authorization until I went through that process. (I wasn’t even allowed to upgrade my own phone without his approval! Had Mike been aware of this, he would have canceled our T-Mobile account on the spot.) If you’re thinking “No big deal, I’ll just move my phone to my own account,” guess again. That line (and therefore that phone number) probably belongs to the account owner—so unless you have their power of attorney, it’s not going anywhere.
Advance Directive
Also known as a living will, this is the document that allows your loved one to express their wishes with regard to end-of-life care. Importantly, an advance directive is not a legal document: whoever has your loved one’s medical power of attorney can choose to respect or deny their stated wishes. This is why it’s generally a good idea to have one person with medical power of attorney, to avoid arguments about who has the authority to make these decisions and delays caused by disagreements.
Mike and I had long discussions about end-of-life care while he was still cognizant enough to know what we were talking about, so I’m confident that following his advance directive will mean doing exactly what he’d want, when and if the times comes for making those decisions.
Do Not Resuscitate order (DNR)
The name pretty much says it all: with this documentation in place, no attempt will be made to use CPR or defibrillation if someone’s breathing or heartbeat has stopped. Many people think a DNR means allowing their loved one to suffer until they die, but patients with a DNR in place can still receive pain medication, antibiotics, and supplemental oxygen; only CPR and defibrillation (or a ventilator, if your loved one is hospitalized) will be withheld.
Keep in mind that a DNR can be revoked at any time by anyone with medical power of attorney. You aren’t making a hard and fast decision by putting this documentation in place—just offering guidance in the event of an emergency for which you aren’t present.
You don’t necessarily need the help of a lawyer when completing these documents; standard versions for your state may be available for free online. Mike and I were able to complete them with a little guidance from the friend I mentioned earlier.
You likely will need to have these forms notarized, however—and even if they don’t technically require that extra step, it’s always better to have something notarized unnecessarily than be faced with a person who believes, albeit incorrectly, the paperwork in your hand is invalid without it. Notary services are often available by appointment at places like the UPS Store and charged per signature. Our financial advisors’s office provides this service for free.
Taking care of paperwork is never enjoyable—and doing this particular kind of paperwork carries significant emotional weight. But the peace of mind that comes of knowing you have everything in place is absolutely worth the time and effort it takes.



So good, Pam. Thank you. I didn't think about a DNR other than it’s something we’ll have to take care of “some day”. Guess I might need to look into this sooner than I thought.
There’s something very honest here about the mismatch between outward readiness and inner readiness. We can pack, plan, and perform competence while still carrying fear or grief, and the act of preparing is often how we metabolize that reality.
Thank you for writing this with such restraint and clarity!