It does sound like a very frustrating situation. Personally, I would want regular updates from someone, regardless of whether there was anything new to report. No news is good news, but you still gotta hear that there's no news. I hope this situation turns around for the better. Dealing with family is always tricky, but when the government is also a player, that's where it really gets difficult.
I went through a very combative episode with the local health care system and authorities years ago when my grandmother was dying of cancer. First, the hospital kept giving her cold sodas and Popsicles after abdominal surgery.
No, that's contraindicated to the extreme. They wouldn't stop, so I told them I was going to cook up some real chicken soup (organic chicken, cook it in crock pot for 24 hrs, along with organic veggies - perfect, healing food). I told the doctor, the nutritionist, and the nurses (all of whom argued with me about diet even though I had infinitely higher levels of training in nutrition than all of them combined) that I would cook up a few gallons of soup and bring it so they could all also enjoy it, as long as they made sure she was eating 3 bowls daily - hot!
The nutritionist argued that she had no appetite and was suffering from nausea and could not be released in that condition. I told her that was because of all the cold crap they were giving her and that the nutritionist was going to learn something in a few hours, and I also left with the admonishment that if anyone served her another cold drink or Popsicle, I was going to bring a Super Bomb Pop (those giant red, white and blue rocket-shaped Popsicles) and shove it very deep inside that person, somewhere very uncomfortable. And yes, I would bring extras for the security guard as well. And no, I wasn't joking either. And I made that part crystal clear. I told them: "Ask my grandmother if you think I'm joking."
Came back the next day with the soup, my grandmother refused to eat. Nutritionist is standing there with a cocky grin. I said: "Grandma, just take a sip. I just want to know if you think I cooked it as well as you used to."
She took a sip, then another, then devoured the bowl and asked for seconds. It was my turn to smirk at the idiot nutritionist.
She left the hospital 24 hours later.
Then we got some whacked out Jesus-freak therapist visiting her at the house. The woman stood next to my grandmother's bed and pointed at the dresser, where she had a picture of me, my brother, my mother and my uncle (her son) and a picture of Jesus. The lunatic therapist starts pointing at the pictures and squealing (like a child might): "Oh look! He's my friend! That's my best friend in the whole world!"
as if speaking to a child. She was talking about Jesus.
My grandmother asked: "Who is this ass-hole?"
(grandma did not mince words!). She told me that she did not want this therapist back - ever! The therapist got pissy with me, so I told the therapist that she should go play with Jesus, because she would not be coming by anymore.
She retaliated by calling Senior Protective Services and claiming my grandmother wasn't being fed. In reality, my grandmother told me she was going to skip breakfast because the meds made her tired and she wanted to wait until I brought more soup which was brewing at home, later in the afternoon. We had all her meds listed and coded, time sheets for taking it, evaluation forms I'd fill out to track her progress, and a refrigerator full of food along with charts showing what she ate and when (so I could evaluate her appetite and make sure she was eating enough). She had far better and more professional care, around the clock, than she ever got at the hospital.
I went to get the soup and I got a call from my uncle (her son, who was there with her 24/7 and especially any time I couldn't be there) and he told me they had sent people to investigate and they wanted to take her back to the hospital. I knew she only had months or even weeks to live, and she told me she would NEVER go back to that hospital alive. If they took her there, she would have died. I told him to ask who was in charge and put that person on the line. I told them I was on my way over and that if she was removed from that house, I was going to track down and murder in cold blood and in the most brutal manner imaginable, every single person involved with removing her, authorizing anyone to go remove her, or taking any part in the decision to remove her. I was quite graphic. I told them to ask my grandmother about my training and my temperament. They fled quickly, and wisely left well enough alone.
I got a call from the police and senior services shortly after, asking if I had "used threatening language" towards the health workers. I said no, it was not a threat I made. What I did was made a sacred vow
to hunt down and murder brutally in cold blood anyone involved in removing her from that house. Don't f*cking test me. I explained how she was being taken care of, and that any removal or attempt at removal would be viewed by me and my family as premeditated murder and that I would indeed track down and kill everyone involved. I had never been more serious in my life. Sometimes, you need to go above and beyond the law and handle things yourself, because they tend to think they are in charge and can do what they want. They very wisely backed down and never bothered us again. But yeah, dealing with these people can be a chore.