Curmudgeon is old...not as old as one would think, but old...I've heard old people don't sleep much. I can attest to that fact. Curmudge, as I call him for short, lived alone for a long time before I came to stay with him the end of June. The place was a disaster area! I had to wonder how on earth he hadn't gotten sick. I shouldn't even go here, but I have to. Anyway, back then I only had a few days to spruce the place up before I went into the hosptial for major surgery. I was away for six days and came back to find the place disasterized again. It was awhile before I could get about and after the cleaning again. I was pretty slow moving. The place needed drastic attention! Today, my chief complaint is he's stopped doing anything for himself.
Curmudge hasn't been sleeping well at all. He hasn't been feeling well either, for about three weeks now I guess. I've been trying to reason with him...he just can't hear me. No, no, it's more like he doesn't want to hear the truth, so he turns a deaf ear. Stubborn, very, very stubborn. I get that he might be hard of hearing, this is what he tells me anyway; but I think his hearing is selective, especially when I'm trying to explain something he doesn't want to hear. He's copped to not listening once or twice. Now that's a milestone. I win! Or do I? I wonder.
I'm concerned he may have developed type 2 diabetes. His feet are so swollen. He insists he doesn't have diabetes, and his reasoining is that the docs would have found it in July when he had a physical prior to having surgery on his wrist. His asumption might be correct, but I think not. Anyone his age can develop diabetes of the aged. It's common in folks over 60, and he is that, over 60. Nag, nag, nag. That's what I do...I suppose. The point is, I'm concerned about his feet and his overall health. He hasn't been taking care of himself.
I've finally managed to get him to call his doctor...he did that this morning. He's on a waiting list. If another patient cancels they will call him to come in. I'm a little miffed. He told the nurse he'd been sick about a week. That's just not true! It's been almost three weeks. But what do I know? He's known to have indulged in excesses of alcohol, he might well have alcohol poisoning. But then I can't make that determination, only the doc can. I don't want to go into too many details, it's not supposed to be my business anyway. He wouldn't be a happy camper if he knew I was blogging about him.
I've been after him for about a week now too, to get himself into the shower, wash his nappy clothes, and the soiled bed linens. EW! YUCK! GROSS! My reasoning was and is, if he cleaned himself up he would feel better? I dunno, maybe, could just be wishful thinking on my part. 'Nuf said on this point.
Wooohooo! Hooray! Finally some motivation! Everything is getting washed! The stink will go away, maybe? Here's my thinking on this...if it is odorous enough that I can smell it with my dysfunctional sniffer, then others can too. It's worse than my kittes litter boxes and that's pretty bad, 'cause I take care of the litter boxes every day faithfully. They're parked next to my desk.
......and the latest good news is, he didn't wait for the docs office to call him in. He just announced he was going to the office to wait to see someone. Hooray! Wooohooo!