HUGE sigh here of I don't know what.. despair?

How to start a week, hey....

Sunday, Peter didn't call. He missed it altogether! Well so did I... mostly... I was so exhausted I slept till quarter to two in the afternoon, and had gone to bed at ten p.m.

And he finally called me this morning. It sounded pretty awful, he had just fallen out of bed again.

He didn't know what day it was. How encouraging.... He wants his tee-vee back, and the telly-com.... well, they are really the pits. Sometime this week, hey.... have been fighting....

As if it were 'important'. He should have been in the hospital at the beginning of last month, but no....

And I get to SIT there and watch him degenerate.

Such fun. NOT.

He hardly eats anything I make for him... and I can cook well....

And I can't FORCE him to get his arse to hospital.

We all know the mantra.... no rights.

But this morning he called and said, 'I just can't DO this any more. I want to go to a Pflegeheim.' That's a nursing home. Here, that is everyone's greatest fear, believe me. There are Dickensian horrible ones, and good ones.

On the pretext of going out and getting some groceries... I went to a social services external office just up the street from where he lives. I hadn't even noticed it for months.

Now, that is a touchy situation. I am not related, etc. etc. So I had to couch it as 'concern for a friend.' Uh-huh...

A young thing, about thirty if that... and she searched the data base... and I had to give her all my data, of course... drives me nuts.

She wants to go there at the end of the week or the beginning of next week, because... her supervisor is on vacation. Uh-huh. And the supervisor has to be there.

I really, REALLY did not want to go into hysterics and off the charts for anger in her office, so I restrained myself.

And I said, 'Listen, he has belonged in a hospital since way before Christmas, and won't go, and I can't force him to. And this morning he said he wants to be in a Pflegeheim, because he can't DO it any more. Please, please TALK to him.'

It was humiliating.

And she said, 'If that is what he wants, I know we will find a little place for him.' Uh-huh'

I got back to his place.... and he seemingly be-shat his wheelchair, even the armrests, and his bedding....

Now THAT is a sight to behold.... Just don't ask, ok?

The sooner they get there, the better.....

It got worse.... he told me... his neighbor takes his money to have him call me on his handy. And a good deal of it. The other one from the Middle East fought with him, and didn't want his money just to make a short call. So he gave him twenty Euros to put into a bank account 'for his beautiful son'.. Whereupon the guy said, 'How many times do I have to tell you we have a daughter?' The guy from the Middle East and his wife look by every day. They seem very nice.

Oh... La-la Land.

This break in reality has come so suddenly.... I just cannot find words... and it breaks my heart.