The ex-BF phoned me three times in three and a half hours yesterday. He finds nothing good in his life. That's his fault. Being the less than congenial person he's become, even his kids find him exhausting to be around. He's laid off from work but so are many others. He's collecting unemployment; many don't have that. He's sick, probably at death's door. I remind him that he's been dying for as long as I've known him. Now he wants me to help with his taxes because he just can't do it. Fine, I'll help. But stop whining.
I visited a friend yesterday who's in the hospital. Walter is a customer at the restaurant, one of those guys who sit at the counter for hours drinking coffee and discussing the future of the world. He's 82, I think. No family except a sister who doesn't speak to him and her husband who's a great friend to Walter. Walter was limping two weeks ago and had lost a lot of weight. He wasn't in much and I told his brother-in-law that a gimpy hip doesn't cause weight loss. A few days ago Walter phoned his brother-in-law in the middle of the night to take him to the hospital. He's still there. He has bone cancer and about six months to live. Treatment options don't offer much hope. Apparently it's a fast progressing cancer. Walter said he just didn't know if he would take radiation and chemo; the doctors told him his chances of improvement with treatment were 1 in 20 and he doesn't think the odds are worth it. I told him it's better than 1 in 100. He thinks he'll contact hospice and get things set up because he has no one to take care of him. Is this not the saddest thing?
Before the holidays I had asked Walter what he was doing for Christmas. He said that he hasn't celebrated holidays since he lost his family in 1962. It's not something to ask about so I didn't. Yesterday the guys at the counter were talking and told me that Walter had lost his entire family, wife and children, in a house fire. He would have been 35 in 1962. He remarried when he was 75 to a woman of 55, hoping for a few good years of companionship. Within two years she had died of cancer and Walter is still alone. Yesterday I asked him if his sister would come to see him. "I doubt it." What do I say to a person who has no one?
This is what angers me about the ex. His problems are all of his making and he can't stop complaining about how miserable his life is. Take a look at Walter's life and shut up.
1 comments:
I see this reflected with hospital patients. The ones that are the hardest patients to care for are the ones who really don't have cause to complain or be on their lights all of the time. The patients who are truly ill with hard prognosis are the ones who tend to be the most grateful for anything you do for them and the nicest ones to care for. And those are the people who really have cause to moan and complain. Go figure.
Post a Comment