Help Jim, a Veteran, Keep His Home

Hello all. I'm Jim. I won't bore you with a long-winded biography, just a little stuff. I'm 70, a Veteran, and disabled. I don't have use of my legs, so I am either in bed or my wheelchair. I'm pretty well house and yard bound. I'm grateful for the care VA gives me. I don't know where I'd be without them. I've had a good life. I was married for 41 years. My wife passed away in December 2017. We never had any kids because we stayed in love and, as best friends, we never needed or wanted much beyond each other. We met while I was in the military, stationed at Ft. Riley, Kansas. She was from Nebraska while I was from Long Island, New York. We met in 1975 and moved in together in 1976, the same year I got out. We relocated to Southern Indiana in 1978 at the suggestion of a friend. Gloria, my wife, went to work and I went to school and did various jobs to help get us by. I graduated with a degree in Electronics Technology and immediately went to work as an Electronics Technician and Field Service Engineer for a machine tool manufacturer. That job led to a 22-year stint working at a Ford Motor Company, later Visteon, supplier plant. The plant closed in 2008. At the exit interview, I was warned that being 55, I was going to face a near-impossible task of reentering the job market at my age, in spite of my education, experience, work history, and abilities. They were right. I had begun experiencing neurological issues affecting my balance and mobility some years before. I had two cervical fusions about 5 years apart. Each cervical blowout had cut my spinal cord, creating a number of issues, but I could still get around. Things continued to slowly degrade until, by 2019, my legs would just give out and I couldn't regain control of them. In January of 2020, I had surgery on my lumbar spine. COVID hit, and I wasn't able to get follow-up visits with my surgeons or physical therapist. My legs never fully came back. I was using a walker and was able to hobble around. But things continued to worsen. I fell several times, breaking my left leg fibula and chipping my left elbow. The last two falls I had took my ability to stand or walk at all. In April of 2023, I had another major surgery on my thoracic spine, including fusions, laminectomies, and installation of three metal rods to keep things from getting worse. But I lost all use of my legs and am wheelchair-bound and will be for life. Last year, I was finally diagnosed by Hines VA Spinal Cord Injury Hospital in Chicago with a condition called Autonomic Dysreflexia as another addition to the injury that took my legs. As best as I can describe it, AD affects functions of your body you have no conscious control over, like breathing, kidneys, blood pressure, etc. It's operating with a bad wiring harness with potentially fatal results. My case primarily has been wild fluctuations in blood pressure where it plunges to levels I pass out or it rockets up scary high. If you've ever seen the film, Dr. Strangelove (if you haven't, you should), I feel like Slim Pickens' character riding that atomic bomb like a rodeo bull as it plummets to Earth after he dislodges it from the bomber where he unstuck it by hopping on it. He hooped and hollered, waving his hat like a cowboy on the way down. Anyway, because of my paraplegic condition, I require full-time assistance. I need help with everything: getting in and out of bed and my chair, dressing, bathing, using the bathroom. I also can't do things like meal prep, laundry, general housework, or yard work. The worst part is knowing I couldn't escape my house on my own if it caught fire! Fortunately, I finally have a wonderful couple who live with me that take care of me. Albert is the son of one of my oldest and best friends. He and his wife, Cindy, are a true Godsend to me. Before those two, my desperation to try to find someone to help me had me bring in some bad people. The first caretaker started becoming abusive and was taking advantage of me. I finally got him out thanks to my VA social worker and some good friends. To fill the gap, I asked this woman I knew, who had returned to the single life, if she would be interested. She was living with her mom and wanted to move out. I'd known her for 8 years and she never gave me any reason to mistrust her. She jumped at the chance. I didn't know it, but she had started smoking meth. At the time, I knew very little about meth or meth users, so I likely missed any signs. She arrived July 4th, 2023. It was fine the first week. Next thing I knew, her mom more or less moved in. Her brother and his girlfriend were here nonstop. I spend most of my time in my room. The main things in my life are there, my computer and hospital bed. Since my house is small, and maneuvering my chair is difficult, I just stay there. It took a bit before I started getting suspicious something was going on. The most telling thing was they just started acting aggressive, although nasty is a better word. By mid-August, things culminated in a frightening psychotic episode that I still feel fortunate to have survived when I was home alone with her. She physically harmed me and took my cell phone and unplugged all the Amazon Echoes around my house when I tried to call for help. I had attempted to call a friend to help me, so she took my phone. I tried again using my Alexa, which was when she went around and unplugged and hid all of them. She missed one, and it did call my friend. He answered the call and thought at first it was a butt dial. He heard me yelling and immediately came over and walked in on her, interrupting whatever she had planned. She freaked when he showed her his phone and told her he'd been listening to her for 20 minutes. She ran off and never came back for her stuff, and neither did the rest of her family. The weird and threatening phone calls began shortly after. She left a message saying if I canceled or put a hold on my bank card, she was going to have me put in jail. Really? When I looked into it, all my money was gone. They cleaned out what little I had saved and most of the current SSI deposit before I knew what was going on. I got the police involved at that point. They caught both her and her brother driving to the ATM and making withdrawals. She was caught and arrested, yet received less than a slap on the wrist of 60 days, told to not contact me, and that was that. Neither her mom, brother, nor his girlfriend were ever even questioned. The bank dragged its feet getting my money back. At one point, they threatened to cancel my account. The point is that my November property tax payment wasn't made for that year because I didn't have the money. By the time the bank repaid the stolen money, the autopay shortage penalties and interest took it immediately. This continued and still does. There were months I had to purposely overdraft for food and household supplies. Each overdraft drew a penalty of $39 for every occurrence, plus daily interest until the overdraft was repaid. A dollar overdraft was a $40+ mistake. I only have SSI, so I get paid monthly, and the bank would clean out my deposit right away. I don't live very extravagantly, either! I was unable to pay my property taxes that year and wasn't able to pay later because my money was being taken right off. I had already sold off anything of value I had. I was over my head. The result: the County put my house up for auction, and it was sold last October. By law, I have a year to pay the tax and penalties, which means, paid by October 24, 2025, or the winning bidder gets possession of my home. My home is now in what's called recovery, so besides the taxes, I have to pay the county's attorney and processing fees, court costs, and whatever was required to put it up for auction. When I recently called to find out what the amount was, it was about $6200. And it grows continuously. Originally, the amount I owed was less than $1400. I had that covered until it was stolen. As it stands, I have no avenue for acquiring funds. A year and more after running out of money resulting in numerous overdrafts month after month wrecked my credit. I can't get a loan. I don't own anything of value anymore to sell. I have no one to get anything from. I am terrified of becoming homeless as a paraplegic and being 70 years old with my sketchy health. I have nowhere else to go. I don't want my life to end this way. So, that's my story. This is why I'm asking for help. Thanks, if you made it this far. Quadruple thanks if you can help.