Dad had a doctor’s appointment today and I didn’t feel like cooking only to run into drama again — and he hadn’t ordered breakfast last night, either — so I snitched three of his breakfast pancake-dogs and had the leftover coffee. I’m not proud. If it’s sat in the coffeemaker carafe overnight I’ll still fucking drink it. I like cold coffee better than hot anyway.
He had a hard time getting around today. Well, this is what happens when you forget what a microwave is and get all proud and pissed off because someone didn’t make everything fucking perfect for you and you throw perfectly good food away. Then you’ve got no energy and you can barely walk. I didn’t say anything, just helped him get around. He at least seemed to have gotten over the evil grump thing, for now, which helps the overall situation.
He wanted a chili cheeseburger for supper. It is pretty simple: half a bun, cook the patty, put the cheese slice on, heat up some microwave chili (see? except I heated it up), spoon that on top. I cooked some fries too, and for once they were a kind he sort of liked. And he actually finished his supper.
Except the universe has a hate-on for me recently, because he got diarrhea later. The problem with being old and slow is that if your guts go faster than you do, you will be in trouble. I guess it isn’t a severe hate-on, because what mess he couldn’t hold in hit the bare floor (no carpet! no rug! yay!) in his bedroom and apparently did not splash anything else. Another thing about old people, or at least this one, is their gut flora must change or something because things are not as rank as they used to be. I got things cleaned up okay. He’s got an extra Depend in the bathroom in case he needs it — and the thing is, he usually doesn’t. But lately he’s gotten the runs a few times. He advised me to spray Lysol in my room in case it’s something catching. Boy, by the time I have cleaned up your hypothetically infected shit, spraying my room does no fucking good. I swear he has this magical-thinking outlook about damn near everything, but if you asked him, he’d tell you he’s practical. No, Dad. Really no.
You see me talking about this all casual-like. I was definitely grumbling about it to myself between my ears, but I did not give him any shit (he made quite enough of his own, thank you) and there’s no reason to. We can’t help when our bodies don’t work right, and he was embarrassed enough. The only reason I am even talking about it here, which a lot of people would view as public humiliation, is because we need to know this sort of thing happens to the elderly and that someone’s got to fucking clean it up. Because right now you are fobbing off the care of the elderly on unpaid female relatives and underpaid care employees and that’s bullshit. Maybe if we all understood we are all headed for this ourselves if we live long enough, we might rethink that whole strategy.
And for the record, though I would not like to deal with this every day, I would rather deal with this than with him giving me attitude about food, or anything else really. There is no intent involved with malfunctioning intestines. There is all sorts of intent involved in being mean to someone.
If I end up having to wipe his ass, though, we’re going to talk because if I’m not gonna get paid for this other than room and board, someone needs to get paid for it. He needs to quit drinking anyway. I don’t know if that is contributing to his general situation. When he was last in the hospital his nephrologist suggested he might have neuropathy in his stomach, because Doc sees that sometimes in diabetics who, for probably obvious reasons, are a large part of his patient population. I don’t see why that couldn’t happen lower down the GI tract as well. Or something else could be going on. My money’s on Dad does not tell his doctors everything, even though if he did then it’s possible they would have something that could help him. I don’t know exactly what he is expecting to happen here.
He does seem to expect to die soon. Both his parents passed away in their early 70s, and he’s 72. He’s in a bad way now himself. But fuck, if I knew I was about to croak, I still wouldn’t want to put myself into situations where I’m shitting on the floor. That just compounds the misery. It isn’t worth it.
I need to get out and Uber (Eats) tomorrow, Friday, and Saturday or I am not going to make my insurance payment by the absolute last due date on the 21st. If it’s not looking good to get it done but I have some of it, I can ask Dad for the rest and he’ll probably be all right with that, but I’d rather not go there. If I aim for $70 a day to account for gas (say, $20 a day for that — so $50 above that) and make sure I get all of lunch hour, it might be possible. Youngsville seems to be pretty good for tips and that sort of thing, and now that I know they’re kind of close to Lafayette, I’m more willing to give them a shot once I’m there. And then I have to keep going after that because I have to re-up the fan site domain. Letting that go is not even an option.
I don’t know why I bother. I enjoy the hell out of the big man but I know why I do and it’s kind of sad and pathetic. It also keeps me out of trouble, and God knows men never seem to add anything but money (when they’re not taking it) and misery to my life, and I can make my own of both and it won’t even give me an STI. So if I’m gonna be into a guy, let it be a completely unavailable thing. But it still feels like “putting too much energy into a man who will never appreciate me,” which is exactly what it is, and I wouldn’t do this for any other guy anymore. Closest I’d get is going to see that Scottish comedian in Houston when he heads out thataway, and I probably won’t even do that, because I wouldn’t just have to pay for the ticket. It’s a five-hour trip one way and I’d need one night in a motel to be safe, minimum. I see lots of his funny stuff online. That probably will have to be enough.
I need to find out how to order a physical SIM from Visible by Verizon. If I can do that then I can finally switch to something cheaper and get a local number. I will wait until after I get the insurance and big man’s domain paid. Hosting isn’t due until 2 May.
Okay. Need sleep fall down go boom.